More tears left to cry

Over lychee iced tea in an office lobby kiosk, a British lawyer based in Singapore asked: “So how’s everything in your country?”

My eyelids fluttered, not because I was flirting, but because I was still trying to get over the tears welling in my eyes from furiously scrolling for more news stories on the cave rescue of the 12 Thai boys and their soccer coach. I already knew that coverage would trigger all sorts of maternal responses in me, but like a junkie, I kept on looking for different feature stories on the incident. (Did I ever tell the story of how I went to the Thai border with Myanmar and had the chance to interact with stateless orphans stuck in foster centers? Heartbreaking.)

I wrenched myself back to the present, hemmed and hawed, and finally responded: “I’ve actually never felt more bleak.” I plunged into all sorts of reasons, from the plummeting stock market and the depreciation of the peso, and then wailed into the impending constitutional amendments being bruited.

“Changes to the Constitution? What sort of changes?” Exactly my point. Nobody really knows what’s in there, except for the drafters who huddled and came up with this document that’s now floating, being bounced around among different government bodies, and discussed in scholarly tones by this and that official, but really, no one’s taken a good look

at it because nobody has officially released it.

For a document that’s so important, and which threatens to upset the fundamental order, even the very fabric, of this society, shouldn’t that document be circulated, and then comments elicited from all sectors? Shouldn’t the think tanks and the journalists and the scholars review it?

But no. That didn’t happen and that’s not what’s happening. Instead, the privileged elites of the judiciary and politics converged and, after some cross-fertilization sessions of sorts, suddenly gave birth to a magic potion that’s going to cure society’s ills.

What’s on that piece of paper? Some weird concept of federalism? Where a vague devolution of powers is going to occur from national to regional governments? Oh, perfect. More powers given to local politicians, when the track record of use of those powers hasn’t been stellar.

Devolution is good if we start from the premise that those who exercise those powers will know what to do with them. But given the misuse and the penchant for corruption by local officials, bestowing them with more chances to cadge moolah will lead to even more graft, and less development. (My use of “penchant” is an exercise in kindness. I really wanted to say something more biting).

A respected businessman who has had this country’s future at heart (and funneled hundreds of millions in charitable causes), on hearing the news of this draft federal Constitution, threw up his hands and said “Uh-oh.” If he’s reacting that way, should I be running scared?

A prominent lawyer posed this question: “so does that mean I get to be taxed thrice?” National, local, and now regional governments?

See? All sorts of issues. And no assurance or clarity. And the way things are running now, I feel that approval of this fundamental law is going to be a fait accompli. A Constitution that took into account only the views of a few minds, but not the input of a broader base, whose views should, and does, count. So back to the Brit lawyer. See how not optimistic I was on that occasion? My fluttering lids could very well have been in reaction to this new Constitution.

‘For a document that’s so important, and which threatens to upset the

fundamental order, shouldn’t it be circulated?’