Why I Prayed for Pacquiao’s Defeat

By Carlos H. Conde

Andrea: Unhappy is the land that breeds no hero.
Galileo: No, Andrea. Unhappy is the land that needs a hero.
(“Life of Galileo” by Bertolt Brecht)

In June, when he was scheduled to fight the Mexican David Diaz, I wished that Manny Pacquiao would lose. He, of course, won that match via a TKO in the 9th round.

Last Sunday, as Pacquiao happily jogged to the ring buoyed by Queen’s “We will, we will rock you!” I wished again for him to, just this once, lose. He, of course, pummeled Oscar de la Hoya to submission.

Tough luck.

I checked Pacquiao’s stats and was actually dumbfounded to learn (you can tell by now that I’m no boxing nerd) that in his 11 fights since December 2004, Pacquiao only lost once, in a unanimous decision at that in favor of Erik Morales, in March 2005. Twice after that, of course, in rematches in 2006, Pacquiao made sure that Morales realized that that victory in 2005 had been a fluke.

I do not wish Pacquiao ill. Indeed, he is probably the greatest boxer we ever had. As I wrote in this piece on the day he showed de la Hoya that a boxing legend cannot wear fishnets and tutu and get away with it, he is a source of inspiration to many young and poor Filipinos who dream of striking it big in boxing.

I wished for Pacquiao’s defeat because, in another time and under different circumstances, I would embrace him as the national hero that many view him to be. But right now, he is such a national distraction.

I would even venture to say here that he might have a hand in the Arroyo regime’s survival. Why, as I pointed out earlier, Pacquiao won all his fights, except one, from the time Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo allegedly stole the presidency in May 2004 up to the present. And each time, Arroyo used him to prop up her image and he willingly went along.

Each time Pacquiao fights, we seem to collectively press the PAUSE button on our national life. And after each victory, we press PLAY but we can’t seem to focus on anything anymore because we are overwhelmed by the euphoria that inevitably ensues. It’s like watching an episode of CSI while knitting at the same time.

I know, I know. Pacquiao provides a respite from all this political ruckus, you would say.

(And Malacanang thinks, too, that he does. Executive Secretary Eduardo Ermita said Sunday that Pacquiao was a “saving grace” because his victory came at time when all the “political noise” against the regime is loudest. Environment Secretary Lito Atienza even chose not to appear before the Senate to defend his department’s budget and went instead to the US to watch the bout. “I consider it as a responsibility. Manny was facing the most important fight in his career and, of course, my worry was what will happen to our country if Manny loses,” Atienza was quoted as saying, by way of explaining his trip to Las Vegas.

Imagine that. This guy, whose department has absolutely nothing to do with sports, thinks that if Pacquiao lost, the country would be torn apart. Which is to say, perhaps, that it might put his master in Malacanang in trouble if Pacquiao did lose and suddenly Filipinos realized that they’re, after all, in deeper shit than they cared to admit? Which kinda proves my point, doesn’t it?)

Pacquiao does provide a respite from all the bad news and from all the political intrigue. (You often hear that these days, mostly from Filipinos abroad who, of course, left the motherland precisely because of all the problems we face.) But we can only invoke the significance of Pacquiao as an intermission if we’ve been doing enough to deal with all these problems.

By definition, a respite is a break from something that one has been doing regularly for some time. What exactly have we been doing lately?

Have we been storming the barricades and demanding accountability from this corrupt and oppressive regime? Have we expressed enough outrage over this regime’s continued use of its power to muzzle the truth about the 2004 elections and other scandals? Have we shown enough indignation over the killings and kidnappings and disappearances and all the violations of civil liberties and human rights that continue to occur on a daily basis?

If we answer yes to these questions, then we can self-righteously invoke the give-us-a-break argument. If not, we don’t deserve a hero like Manny Pacquiao.

Then again, considering our willingness to be razzle-dazzled by an excellent gladiator like him, perhaps we do.