Heroes

Heroes

By Prospero E. Pulma Jr.

Note: I wrote this essay after Manny Pacquiao humbled Erik Morales in February 2006.

Two pictures published days apart on the Inquirer’s front page caught my interest. Both depicted heroes, but it was the only characteristic that they shared. One showed Manny Pacquiao atop an ornate float, waving to legions of applauding fans that lined the route of his homecoming parade. His ardent admirers had braved the elements just to get to glimpse of the sports icon, and Manny reciprocated their adulation. The event was a fitting tribute for a man from humble beginnings who had brought immense honor to our country and had achieved a feat that pedigreed and grizzled politicians could only dream of: unite the whole nation behind him.
Another picture published three days earlier had another hero as its subject. But there was no army of adoring fans; the hero did not ride on a gilded float- he was not even in the picture-and the desolate landscape made the photograph bleaker. Only the wreckage of an OV-10 Bronco attack aircraft protruding from a murky fishpond marked Captain Aniano Amatong's temporary grave. The scene reminded me of rifles, fixed with bayonets, erected on shallow mounds as ersatz tombstones for fallen soldiers.
While the whole nation watched The Pacman pummel Erik Morales to submission, only a few souls witnessed Captain Amatong maneuver his obsolete and crippled warplane, sans his copilot whom he ordered to eject, past a residential area before he crashed it on an open field with no loss of civilian life. They recovered his body nearby, but they did not held it aloft before the world like the hero that he was. There were no effusive expressions of gratitude or nationwide keening. Apathy accompanied the tragic demise of a good man.
The righteous pounding of chests and political grandstanding that I anticipated over the loss of another antiquated aircraft and experienced pilot did not materialize. National security took a backseat to boxing while politics regained its enviable position in the front when two controversial political figures mounted the ring after the referee proclaimed Pacquiao the winner. It would make anybody mourn to believe that another hero has died in vain.
Captain Amatong's heroic death only merited minutes of television airtime and broadsheets devoted less than a page to his story - squeezed between snippets of the Pacquiao saga and politics, of course - before the media switched to the more pressing matter of covering the boxing sensation's itinerary, which included and television appearances and photo sessions with politicians who badly needed him to prop up their abyssal popularity ratings and deodorize their stinking reputations.
I understand that the country has an insatiable thirst for heroes, and Heaven sent us two in a span of days. But our proclivity to be star-struck, to prefer the blinding klieg lights of fame to anonymity, made us only see one hero, and ignore the other who has done the nobler deed. I also understand that aside from our affinity to celebrities, we also possess a nasty penchant to vilify. Now, imagine if Captain Amatong followed his copilot in bailing to safety. We would have tagged him a heel and crucified him for letting others die.
I am grateful to Manny Pacquiao for lifting our sagging national pride, for dissipating the filthy air of politics and making us breathe the fresh air of national unity even for a few hours, making us believe that, pound for pound, the Filipino is a peerless fighter and could beat the world's best - Mexico's best in Manny's case – and proudly waving our flag before the world.
But I doff my hat off to Captain Amatong. He did not only redeem the sullied honor of his brothers-in-arms, he also reminded me that the Filipino is still capable of immense sacrifice for love of country and his fellowmen at a time when he is plagued with doubts about the nobility of his character. The fearless captain may have soared into the sky as a pilot, but it was his self-sacrifice that brought him to the heavens.