MANY people I have spoken to about the missteps that have bedeviled Noynoy Aquino and his government have offered various ways by which he could have avoided or prevented them or gotten the situation under control.
But the scenarios all proceed on the premise that certain conditions are controllable or the damage they cause can be minimized. However, in the case of Aquino there appears to be one factor that not even his most astute advisers can control. Aquino himself. As a person. As someone raised the way he was. And as one who had to undergo the traumatic experiences that he did while developing into manhood.
My sympathies, therefore, go to those in his staff, like communication secretary Sonny Coloma, who have to face the media daily and try to put a positive – or at least, a mitigating – spin on the latest misguided missile coming out of their boss’s mouth.
In my book, How To Make A Benta – Anecdotes, Articles & Lectures from the Advertising Wars – I devote substantial space to the challenge of dealing with a PR crisis. The points I make are drawn from classic crisis situations, like that involving Tylenol in 1982, to the tightrope that Bill Clinton had to walk in the wake of the discovery of his dalliance with White House intern Monica Lewinsky, to situations that I personally had to deal with on behalf of my clients.
I must confess that nothing in my book covers a situation similar to that posed by a PR problem like Benigno S. Aquino III.
Here are excerpts from the section on Crisis PR:
“A public relations crisis is something that you would rather not have. But when one does come, a PR agency and its clients must be as precise as the captain of a submarine steering his craft through mine-filled waters, and as quick as a magic act in producing public statements and communications materials.
“A cardinal rule in dealing with a PR crisis – where the reputation or even the survival of a business hangs in the balance – is to take the perspective of the PR publics involved, and then to weigh the negative and positive tradeoffs of available options, both short-term and long-term.
“Taking the public’s point of view means that, even if you are 100 percent convinced of the righteousness of your position, you must learn to understand and appreciate why the other side believe you are wrong. That could hold the key to solving the problem, either on a win-win basis or in a manner that allows you damage control or makes the opposition sue for peace.”
Note that I am presuming a capacity on the part of the PR client (or the one confronting a crisis) to empathize with others, particularly the parties that are antagonistic to him. I’m also presuming a certain flexibility on the part of the client, an ability to adjust to situations as they occur.
From what I have learned about Aquino, he has neither the capacity to empathize nor to adjust to new conditions that require him to deviate from what he has already resolved to do.
None of the parties involved, least of all Aquino, may be expected to admit the real reason they were in Zamboanga on the morning of January 25. Was it the prospect of a Nobel Prize? Who knows?
In responding to the question why not enough was done to save the commandoes, Aquino asked the widows if they had ever played computer games. It was a question coming from left field. But if you consider that what Aquino had set out to do – the hunt for Marwan – was a virtual game for him, then you can glimpse how his mind works.
Hey, if Barack Obama and Team Six of the Navy Seals pulled it off in the hunt for Osama bin Ladin, why not Aquino with Purisima and the PNP Special Action Force?
Unfortunately, the situation went out of whack and neither Aquino nor Purisima was prepared for it. Being incapable of flexibility, Aquino could have just frozen.
According to the timeline provided by various witnesses and resources persons, on the morning of January 25, Aquino had ample time to take control of the unfolding disaster in Mamasapano and to order his senior people to undertake several tasks, all at the same time, from scrambling the nearby army contingent, to getting key players in the MILF and the peace panel involved.
Why didn’t Aquino do it? Was it simply due to lack of experience in coping with crisis? Or was it something else?
Recall how Aquino reacted to the Tacloban businessman who complained about being threatened with a gun at the height of the Yolanda onslaught. That should give us a clue. Aquino shot back to the complainant, “Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
That seemed to everyone like a heartless, cold-blooded response to a serious, near-fatal incident. But when you consider how Aquino may have seen himself in the shoes of the businessman and how he himself survived, you will begin to see why he reacted the way he did.
On August 27, 1987 at the gates of Malacañang, rebel forces ambushed Aquino and his security escort, hitting him on his nape and arm, and killing three of his bodyguards. To this day, Aquino carries a bullet in his body, his badge of survival. You can almost hear him declare dismissively, “You’re complaining about being threatened with a gun? I took two bullets and survived,”
Were the SAF commandoes under heavy fire? Well, wasn’t Aquino showered with bullets himself? He escaped alive. Why couldn’t they?
The lame explanations of Roxas, Gazmin and Catapang confirm the attitude that they took towards the firefight. Just another one of those. Did the fatalities already climb to 11 by noon? Well, wasn’t that the price of battle?
The families of the fallen 44 will probably scream upon reading this. But the transcript of the Senate hearing confirms that there was no urgency to extricate the commandoes as quickly as possible and at all costs.
And so 44 brave young men died. They did not just die. They were slaughtered. Butchered. Plundered.
Are the families of the SAF commandoes grief-stricken? Unfortunately, Aquino is incapable of appreciating their grief except in the context of his own. When he spoke at the necrological services at Bagong Diwa on January 30, he couldn’t help seeing the suffering of the families from the prism of his father’s assassination.
‘I remember watching alone the television in our residence in Boston, waiting for news about what had happened to my father. I heard the announcer on the television say: “Opposition leader, Benigno Aquino, was seen lying in a pool of blood; shots were fired.” Then, it was as if time had come to a halt; my surroundings froze and I lost my awareness of things, and my world was turned upside down. I could not explain the shock I felt.”
And when Aquino had a round-table discussion with the widows at Camp Crame on February 18, he said, “Namatay rin ang tatay ko, alam ko pakiramdam niyo kaya patas na rin tayo ngayon.” (My father also died, so I know how you feel. We are even now.)
A friend of mine quipped on FaceBook about Aquino, “Mabuti pa ang saging, my puso.” (A banana is better, it has a heart).
I think my friend is wrong, Benigno S. Aquino III has a heart. But it is meant only for himself.
([email protected])
