A TALE OF TWO WARS: HOW IRAQ & IRAN MIRROR US MILITARY LEGACY

 

When echoes of war carry familiar rhetoric, history doesn’t just repeat – it rhymes.

On June 2, 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump took to his Truth Social platform to proclaim, “Iran’s key nuclear enrichment facilities have been completely and totally obliterated.” The tone was triumphant, even celebratory – eerily reminiscent of President George W. Bush’s 2003 Mission Accomplished speech aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln, where he declared victory in Iraq with similar bravado.

U.S. President George W. Bush delivering his Mission Accomplished Speech

Two wars, two decades apart. But both are framed by sweeping proclamations of success, moral certainty, and national resolve. Yet, beneath the headlines and hashtags, lies a disquieting symmetry: wars justified on shaky grounds, pursued in the face of international dissent, and marred by consequences that reverberate far beyond the battlefield.

It Was Illegal

Bush’s Iraq War

The Iraq invasion in 2003 lacked credible legal justification. Iraq had not attacked the United States, nor was there compelling evidence that it possessed weapons of mass destruction, or that it posed an imminent threat to international peace. Moreover, Iraq was never proven to be involved in the September 11 attacks.

According to the U.N. Charter, military action without Security Council authorization is permissible only in clear self-defense. The U.S. acted without that mandate – effectively undermining the international legal framework designed to prevent unilateral aggression. Even within the U.S. and U.K., the decision bypassed crucial legislative scrutiny and set a precedent that many experts fear eroded global norms.

Trump’s Iran Attack

Few days ago, the U.S., allied with Israel, launched a preemptive strike on Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. Despite the theatrics of success, international voices such as former Scottish First Minister Humza Yousaf condemned the attack as a violation of international law. He questioned the West’s selective view of self-defense, pointing out that the International Atomic Energy Agency found no active Iranian nuclear weapons program at the time.

U.S. intelligence, as publicly shared by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, supported this: Iran’s Supreme Leader had not revived the country’s suspended weapons program. In other words, there was no imminent threat – only assumption.

It Was Unwise

Bush’s Iraq War

Beyond its legality, the Iraq war proved politically and strategically reckless. It fractured alliances, inflamed anti-American sentiment, and destabilized an already volatile region. It became a recruitment tool for extremist groups, fanned sectarian violence, and left a vacuum that years of occupation couldn’t contain.

Instead of isolating terrorism, it multiplied its breeding grounds.

Trump’s Iran Attack

Two decades later, public opinion had shifted. An Economist/YouGov poll taken shortly after the attack revealed only 16% of Americans supported direct U.S. military involvement. Dissent crossed party lines, with Democrats, Independents, and even a majority of Republicans opposing the escalation.

Meanwhile, talk of assassinating Iran’s Supreme Leader and pursuing regime change alarmed even geopolitical rivals like Russia, who warned such moves could ignite a broader war. The risk-to-reward ratio was as lopsided as it was familiar.

It Was Immoral

Bush’s Iraq War

The war’s toll on Iraqi civilians was staggering. Air raids and urban combat turned entire neighborhoods to rubble, claiming tens of thousands of innocent lives. Regardless of political calculus, such human suffering demanded moral reckoning.

Trump’s Iran War

The moral line wasn’t merely crossed – it was mocked. A video posted by Trump celebrated the bombing with offensive lyrics set to a parody song. It glamorized destruction and dehumanized its targets. As headlines buzzed, morality recoiled.

Trump posted a video celebrating the attack to the tune of "Bomb Iran"

Lessons Ignored

Jim Wallis, in God’s Politics, offered sobering lessons from the Iraq war – lessons that resonate all too clearly with the Iran attack:

1. Military might doesn’t erase moral ambiguity. Crushing a weaker force may win the battle, but never the ethical argument.

2. Unresolved injustice breeds endless conflict. The Israeli-Palestinian question remains at the heart of regional instability.

3. When preemptive strikes ignore overwhelming public opposition, they not only fracture domestic consensus but also erode the spirit of global cooperation essential to combating terrorism in all its complexity.

4. A world order anchored in unilateral decisions and military muscle, rather than in multilateral consensus and international law, builds a framework not of peace, but of suspicion – inviting chaos disguised as control.

5. Dissent during wartime is not treason – it’s fidelity. Faith leaders such as Pope Leo and everyday citizens alike remind us that real patriotism often sounds like resistance.

God, Guns, and the Danger of Divine Warfare

President Bush framed the Iraq invasion in spiritual terms – America’s cause, he implied, was sanctified. His final words in that 2003 address: “May God continue to bless America.”

Trump took that narrative further. After leveling Iranian facilities, he concluded with: “We love you, God.” It sounded less like reverence and more like self-congratulation.

Theologian Eugene H. Patterson warned of this very thing: “Religion is the most dangerous energy source known to humankind,” he wrote. When a government believes its cause is divinely endorsed, it becomes blind to consequences, contemptuous of dissent, and dangerously emboldened.

Prophets throughout history have called out this kind of hypocrisy, especially when cloaked in holy language. Their message remains timeless: real faith questions power – not just rubber-stamps it.

When the Past Is Prologue

This article is more than a reflection on foreign policy missteps. It’s a cautionary chronicle of how great powers, drunk on their sense of destiny, repeat the same errors – only with louder applause and sharper bombs.

If we are to learn anything from Iraq and Iran, it’s this: legality without legitimacy, strategy without wisdom, and power without conscience lead not to peace but to permanent peril.

Because in war, the most dangerous weapon isn’t a bomb – it’s amnesia.

Content & editing put together in collaboration with Bing Microsoft AI-powered Co-pilot & Grammarly

Head collage photos courtesy of Getty Images & design by Canva

Still photos courtesy of AP Photos, Getty Images, The Huffington Post, Shutterstock, & StockCake

BEYOND THE HEADLINES: MY SPIRITUAL JOURNEY THROUGH CFC AND GK

 

I was casually scrolling through the day’s headlines when a jarring one from Rappler stopped me cold:

“Sex, charity, and GK founder Tony Meloto: ‘I can open heaven for you’”

Shocking? Yes. But, in all honesty, it’s not entirely surprising. That headline unearthed a feeling I thought I had long buried – one that first stirred many years ago when I crossed paths with Gawad Kalinga (GK) on my spiritual journey. That journey, as strange as it sounds, began not with a sermon or a retreat, but with a routine medical check-up.

Nothing seemed amiss – until a call from our company clinic changed everything. A shadow on my x-ray. A second exam. A quiet conversation with our company doctor.

“No big deal,” he said with a half-smile. “Just a spot – it should clear in a couple of months.”

"What If?" Asks Fear

But fear, once awakened, doesn’t sleep easily. What if it doesn’t clear up? What if it’s cancer? I knew I had given fear a foothold with years of smoking. Now that reckoning had come.

Over the following months, I lived under the looming presence of that unspoken what if – a Damocles’ sword suspended by a fragile thread. My mind spiraled through the stages of crisis: shock, denial, isolation, resignation… and finally, something resembling acceptance. But it wasn’t serenity – it was surrender born of exhaustion.

What unsettled me most wasn’t the illness, but the illusion it shattered: that I was in control. That my proud resumé, cherished family, stable job, and a rosy future could shield me from life’s brutal curveballs. Even my relationship with God, I had to admit, had been more of a safety parachute – kept neatly folded away for emergencies.

But grace has a curious way of stepping in just when you’re slipping off the edge.

Louie and Me

Enter Louie - a Born-Again Christian friend whose easy joy and quiet faith became a lifeline. Through him, I found a spiritual community that welcomed me without question. Prayer. Fellowship. Worship. Bible reading that wasn’t just academic, but alive. What started as curiosity became a transformation. Over the course of seven years, it became my path to renewal.

"Even If" Says Faith

Somewhere along that road, I stopped thinking about the spot. Even if it’s still there, it no longer matters. My focus shifted from survival to surrender – to the work of faith and purpose that now included Couples for Christ (CFC).

God was orchestrating something. That time with Louie had laid the spiritual foundation for what would come next – my and Cherrie’s calling to serve as leaders in the CFC community.

And then came Tony. And GK.

Tony Meloto

Let me rewind a little – to one unforgettable weekend in our GK mission, a day that still glows in my memory like a quiet ember.

The Best Of Times

That morning, I told Cherrie to stay home. We were heading into rebel territory. Local officials warned us: don’t stay past sundown. Still, our team – mostly men, a few devoted doctors – loaded up a dump truck with tools we had paid for ourselves. We made our way to a remote village.

When we arrived, the place looked deserted. Quiet. Tense. An elderly man emerged and told our team that the local Muslim families had stayed inside. Cautious. Maybe afraid. And who could blame them? When had Christians ever shown up en masse to serve, not take?

But soon, our doctors began making their rounds. Then came the hammers, the paint, the sweeping. And then, something beautiful: doors opened. Faces emerged. Smiles formed.

We worked like we were chasing the sun. By day’s end, after the last heartbeat had been listened to, the last nail hammered in, and the final roof sealed tight, we quietly packed away our tools. Without closing ceremonies. No celebratory photos (no selfies yet then). Just a silent acknowledgment of work done, and a collective prayer that it mattered.

We drove off as dusk settled in and left the village quietly transformed – perhaps not just by what we did, but by why we came.

GK Bayanihan in action

People often ask: “Why do you do this?”

For a long time, I searched for an answer that made sense. Now I say: “It’s a God-inspired thing.”

From bottom left clockwise: CFC wives fellowship, YFC daughter Jan's birthday, Garv V on stage at YFC International Youth Camp below

But not all God-inspired things stay pure.

The Worst Of Times

The grand finale national leaders’ conference we attended in Manila felt more like a political showdown than a spiritual gathering. Tensions had escalated between the two factions: CFC founder Frank Padilla and GK figurehead Tony Meloto.

Amid the crisis, I could not believe my senses then when a supposed brother in an argument tried to have a physical fight with me. An eleventh-hour attempt for a reconciliation between Frank and Tony failed. The atmosphere was thick with discord. No more joy. No more peace. Just noise.

It was disorienting, even heartbreaking. We had given so much. We had risked much – traveling to remote, sometimes dangerous places; investing not just our money, but our family’s safety and time; and encountering people like Kuratong Baleleng’s Aldong Parojinog not for politics, but to serve the poorest of the poor.

And yet, the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace – had vanished from the community.

Let Go

It wasn’t long before Cherrie and I walked away.

You might ask, where does Tony Meloto’s alleged abuse figure into all this?

In truth, it doesn’t stand alone. For me, the warning signs were already there – the compromises, the dissonance, the quiet slipping away from the mission’s spiritual core. Frank Padilla once wrote in his book Friend or Foe: Fighting the Enemy Within about Peter, the rock upon whom the church was built – how even Peter could be deceived and used by the enemy, if only for a time.

His point was chilling in its clarity:

“If it could happen to Peter, it could happen to any of us. And if Jesus himself had called the disciple who was primus inter pares Satan, please do not be offended when I say that Satan can deceive you and use you for his purposes.”

Weeds Among The Wheat

I take no pleasure in that thought. I offer no judgment. As Scripture says in Matthew 13:24-28, the enemy often sows weeds among the wheat, quietly, while no one is watching. And sometimes, even a field that once bore rich harvest can grow tangled.

 But I believe the story isn’t over. Not for Tony. Not for CFC. Not for GK.

God is still working.

And in tension between heartbreak and hope, between what was and what can still be, I continue to hold fast to the truth that first called Cherrie and me: when we labor in love, unseen and uncelebrated, we are never alone.

Content & editing put together in collaboration with Grammarly & Bing Microsoft AI-powered Co-Pilot

Head collage photos courtesy of Rappler & Canva

Still photos courtesy of Vecteezy, Couples for Christ album, Tony Meloto file, Gawad Kalinga album, Family album, Freepik, & iStock

DUTERTE'S EL CID MOMENT: THE SPECTER OF POWER BEHIND THE INTERIM RELEASE

 

It started with a flicker of memory.

I was a kid, ten or eleven when I first watched Charlton Heston ride out as El Cid – lifeless, yet heroic – his body strapped to a horse, sword in hand, still leading men into battle.

I was tucked into a wooden seat in our town’s old movie house, eyes wide as the screen filled with dust, steel, and legends. It was the era of cinematic titans – Hercules, Samson, Ulysses – and my favorite muscle-bound hero, Steve Reeves. Those films weren’t just action; they were myth-made flesh. They etched into my young mind the idea that power, once embodied, didn’t just vanish when a man was gone.

My Favorite Movies in Grade School

One morning, sipping my coffee, that memory stirred again – but not from a movie - from a headline.

“Duterte Seeks Interim Release From ICC,” Philstar reported.

According to the article, former President Rodrigo Duterte has petitioned the International Criminal Court (ICC) for interim release, asking to be transferred to an undisclosed state. His 16-page petition lists four reasons: he’s not a flight risk; he won’t interfere with proceedings; he won’t commit more crimes; and “humanitarian factors” supposedly support his release.

The ICC is investigating Duterte over crimes against humanity tied to his bloody “war on drugs” – a campaign that left thousands dead and left families shattered across the country.

The government has officially acknowledged 6,248 deaths due to the anti-drug campaign. The ICC prosecutor has said as many as 30,000 may have been killed by police or unidentified individuals over the years. But now, his legal defenders claim he is no longer the same man. No longer president. No longer powerful.

His petition states:

“Mr. Duterte is no longer the President of the Philippines and does not command the same influence or power he is said to have abused during the period of the alleged crimes.”

That line haunted me.

Interim Release Bid Headlines

And almost instantly, El Cid came galloping back into focus.

If you haven’t seen the 1961 film El Cid, here’s the quick version: Rodrigo (a serendipitous name for our article’s gist) Diaz de Vivar, a knight of medieval Spain, dies defending his people. But his death isn’t the end. His wife, knowing how much his diehard supporters-soldiers (another serendipitous phrase) revered him, has his corpse mounted on a horse, dressed in full armor. He rides one final time, sword drawn, as a symbol. The enemy, who has feared the sound of his name, sees him and flees in panic - victory, even in death.

The man was gone, but the myth – the fear, the power – remained.

El Cid The Movie

Now fast-forward to today. Duterte, still alive, still armored with influence, is attempting to ride again.

Imagine him being granted interim release. Alive. Erect. Back in familiar terrain. For Duterte Diehard Supporters (DDS), his loyal followers, he would not be a man returning to rest. He would be a man returning to reign. Not in office, but in myth. In memory. In menace.

It would be his own El Cid moment – not a symbol of honor, but of impunity.

Let’s be clear: Duterte doesn’t need the presidency to be dangerous. He has a loyal DDS, a twin trump cards: a military indebted to him for doubling their pay and his “old friend” China’s Xi, and a mythos built around fearlessness and defiance. His war on drugs wasn’t just a policy - it was a performance. And its impact – on the streets, in communities, in our collective psyche – has outlived his term.

So, when his lawyers argue that he’s now powerless, that his days of influence are over, they’re not just wrong. They’re trying to gaslight an entire nation.

Because the truth is this: power doesn’t only reside in position. It resides in memory. In myth. In fear.

In Duterte’s case, power also resides in the very real machinery of loyal political allies, social media echo chambers, and a public image carefully crafted to invoke strength and survival at any cost like the P10-million troll farms in the 2016 presidential election.

That’s what makes the idea of interim release not just misguided, but dangerous.

It risks becoming a symbolic resurrection - a chance for Duterte to mount the horse once more, not to fight for justice, but to ride over it.

And just like El Cid’s legendary ride sent enemies fleeing in awe, Duterte’s release could send waves through the justice system, the ICC proceedings, and the fragile spaces where victims still wait for accountability.

Because even now, his DDS remain loud. Vocal. Ready.

Duterte Diehard Supporters (DDS)

Interim release could embolden them. It could intimidate witnesses, destabilize narratives, and pollute discourse with the same old tactics of disinformation, fear, and revisionism.

Let’s not forget: this is a man who has already won back Davao’s mayoralty in a landslide. A man whose mere image still causes chills or cheers, depending on which part of the country you’re standing in.

He is not a flight risk. He is a symbolic threat.

His release isn’t a matter of logistics or legal nuance. It’s a matter of principle. Of precedent. Of whether the global justice system will stand firm in the face of myth and might.

Because if Duterte is allowed to walk free – even temporarily – the message won’t just echo in the halls of The Hague. It will resound in every barangay where justice still feels like a whisper.

Petitioning for the interim release, Duterte’s defenders will claim he’s no longer a man of influence. But history tells us that influence doesn’t need breath to live on. It just needs belief.

Just like El Cid, Duterte represents a story. A myth. A Legacy. One that, if not confronted, will keep riding.

And not every legend deserves a second march into battle.

Let the dead ride if they must. But the living must be held accountable.

Content & editing put together in collaboration with Grammarly & ChatGPT 

Head collage photos and design courtesy of Getty Images, ICC, Microsoft Bing image creator & Canva

Still photos courtesy of IMDb, Amazon UK, Plex, GMA Network, Getty Images, IMDb, YouTube, East Asia Forum, iStock, & QuoteFancy

IMPEACHMENT: PARANG LARONG BASKETBALL, HIDE & SEEK, AT CHESS

 

Ang espesyal na artikulong ito – unang beses kong gumamit ng Pilipino (hindi ako laking Maynlla, laking Cotabato) – ay inspirasyon mula sa tatlong tao: Bayani Santos, Ana Marie Pamintuan, at si Senador Robin Padilla.

Si Ginoong Santos ay dating kasamahan ko sa trabaho noong kasagsagan ng corporate life ko at masugid na tagapagtaguyod ng paggamit ng Pilipino sa media. Si Ginang Pamintuan, sa gitna ng kaguluhan sa kahulugan ng forthwith, ay tama namang nagsabi sa kanyang Philstar column na dapat matuto ang mga abogado ng wikang naintindihan ng karaniwang tao. Si Ginoong Padilla naman, na muntik nang magkasuntukan sa kapwa niya Senador Joel Villanueva sa gitna ng napakainit na impeachment trial, nagpahiwatig kung gaano siya kadunong sa due process: “Ako po ay ex-convict. Kaya ako po ay sanay sa korte.”

Naalala ko tuloy ang mga banat ni Ginoong Padilla sa kanyang tinatawag na baptism of fire noong unang sumabak siya sa plenaryong debate sa Senado.

Dumudugong Tenga 

“Nahihirapan lang ako pag nag-e-Englishan na, medyo, ‘pwede dahan-dahan lang? Gano’n. Kaya mahalaga ‘yung journal eh, kaya binabasa ko’’yung journal kasi nandun lahat eh, mahalaga ‘yun.”

“Nakatunganga ako. Tango-tango. Bukas mababasa ko sa journal ito.”

“Hindi naman lahat hindi ko naiintindihan. Kapag gumamit lang sila ng mga English na pang-dictionary, marami, talaga, eh.”

“Lalo ‘pag nagtatalo na. “Yun naglalabasan ng mga Webster doon. Medyo dumudugo tenga ko.”

“Ang journal ko, may mga linya. ‘Pag may linya ‘yun ibig sabihin kailangan ko ng dictionary.”

“Pinipilit naman ni Senate President na ma-welcome ako. Siyempre bago ka eh, parang sa eskwelahan din, ‘pag bago, makisama ka muna. Pinipilit ko naman makisama.”

Sa paksang impeachment natin dito, para maiwasan nating dumugo ang tenga ng ating mambabasang kagaya ni Ginoong Padilla, iwasan muna nating gumamit ng wikang English. Ang ating sariling wika muna sa ngayon. Okay ba?

Sabi nga ng sikat na boxing ring announcer na si Michael Buffer: “Let’s get ready to rumble!”

Galing Magdribol

Bilang panimula, ang nangyaring impeachment trial, para itong larong basketball. Ang nakakataas ng kilay, matagal-tagal ding pinatagal ang laro ng kontra-impeachment team, na pinamumunuan ng Pangulo ng Senado. Sa tutuo lang, ang galing talaga nilang dumiskarte sa pagdidribol ng bola – crossover, between the legs, wrap around behind the back – para pang-matagalan, habang naiinis naman ang mga tao, sumisigaw, umaasa ng patas at klarong laban.

Pero sa bandang huli, imbes na maglaro, nag-desisyon silang mag-walkout – parang tumakas sa court at iniwan ang laro.

Parang sa isang stadium na puno ng pagkadismaya, hindi lang pinatigil ng walkout na ito ang laban – pinasiklab pa nito ang galit ng mga manunuod. At habang ang mga boo ay lumalakas, nagiging sigawan. Mas mainam siguro sa mga kontra-impreachment na senador na magtago – nakayuko – habang nagsisimulang lumipad ang mga piraso ng matinding galit ng publiko. Hay naku!

Ang susunod sa ating usapan ay tungkol sa mga senador sa nangyaring impeachment trial na nag-aanyong parang naglalarong mga bata.

Para madaling maintindihan, subukan nating isasalarawan itong impeachment trial na parang isang larong tagu-taguan.

Ginabi sa Pagbilang

Sa bersyong ito, buong tapang na itinakda ng Pangulo ng Senado ang sarili bilang isang taya – mayabang, makapangyarihan, at pa-drama. Samantala, ang mga senador na kontra-impeachment masaya namang naging tago.

Sa normal na tagu-taguan, pipikit ang taya at magbibilang, siguro hanggang 50, para makatakbo at makapagkubli ang mga tago. Pero hindi dito. Ang Pangulo ng Senado nagbilang ng napakahaba para pampatagal:1… 2… 999… 1,000. Pagkatapos ng matagal na bilang, ang mga tago? Aba, imbes na maghanap ng matataguan, eh, kanya-kanya silang nagsisiuwian. Parang alam din nilang wala sa plano ang makipaglaro. 'Tsaka, nagdilim na ang paligid at inabot na ng hapunan.

Sa dulo, ang tagu-taguan sa pulitika hindi naman talaga nakapagsimula. Ang taya nagpapabagal, ang mga tago nag-alsa-balutan, at ang talagang naitago ay ang kunwaring pagsisikap na gawing seryoso ang proseso. Anak ng tinapa!

Itong huling laro, hindi lamang natin lalong maiintindihan ang nangyaring impeachment trial, nakakatuwa pa itong ating pagsasalarawan na parang itong isang chess tournament.

Sige, kuha na ng pamatid-gutom – popcorn, juice, kung ano meron – at ihanda ang sarili sa matinding katuwaan!

Hipnotista, Multo, At Iba Pa

Naka-set na ang tournament chessboard sa gitna. Kumikinang ang mga piyesa, parang mismong demokrasya. Tumahimik ang madla. Ramdan ang tensyon sa hangin. Pero teka muna! Bago pa ginalaw ang unang pawn, biglang tumayo ang team kontra-impeachment, kasama ang matalas na mata ng Pangulo ng Senado.

“Sandali lang!” sigaw ng isang senador. “Pinaghihinalaan naming ang kalabang bishop ay nasa ilalim ng hipnotismo ng isang magician na nakatago sa Row C!” Nagpadala ng seguridad. Walang na-detect na hipnotista, pero may isang nahuli na sobrang gigil mag-eyebrow workout.

Bago pa makabalik sa laro, panibagong protesta na naman. May isang senador na nag-akusa na ang kalaban ay may suot na AI lapel pin na nagma-mind control – konektado daw sa isang misteryosong WiFi network na tinatawag na Deep Pawn State. Isa pa ang nagreklamo na ang kabayo ng kalaban ay naglalabas ng psychic waves mula sa buntot nito.

Nag-file ng reklamo laban sa galaw na padiagonal – “masyadong biased ito sa straight-line thinkers!” sigaw nila. Samantala, may nag-demand na ipagbawal muna ang rook castling hanggang ma-review ang castle privilege nito.

Nagkaroon ng krisis sa banyo: pwede bang lumabas ang players sa gitna ng laro? Kailangan bang ideklara ang intensyon nilang mag-flush ng toilet? Nagbuo ng mga komite, nagdaos ng hearings, tuloy-tuloy ang oras sa game clock.

May isa pang senador na nagsabing may multong umubo sa balkonahe – patunay daw ito ng paranormal na sabwatan gamit ang ectoplasmic interference. Pansamantalang naantala ang laro para sa isang emergency séance.

Tapos, may bagong gulo – may nagreklamo na sobrang dami ng pag-hum. “Masyadong maingay!” sigaw ng isa. May technician na sinugod matapos mahuling ngumunguya ng bubble gum malapit sa bishop. Ang tunog nalaman nilang galing pala sa isang vending machine.

Obra Maestra

Matapos ang napakaraming oras nang pagkaantala – magical na akusasyon, metaphysical na haka-haka, at maikling debate kung dapat bang bigyan ng legal representation ang pawn, sabay-sabay tumayo ang team kontra-impeachment, idinaklarang malas ang tournament chessboard, hindi legit ang rules, at ang buong laro ay isang Marxist-Jesuit tech conspiracy.

Sa huli, sa mala-teatrong exit, dahan-dahan nilang tinalikuran ang chessboard, lumabas ng tournament hall, at naglabas ng press release: nagdeklara ng panalo – sa larong hindi man lang nagsimula.

At dahil doon, sa kasaysayan, naitala ang chess tournament na ito bilang isang obra maestra sa stratehiya na hindi paglalaro – isang tagumpay sa pagpapabagal, palabas, at mala-pantasyang panglilito. Walang check. Walang mate. Puro… “check please.”

Ano ba yan?

Content, translation, & editing put together in collaboration with Bing Microsoft AI-powered Co-pilot

Head collage photos courtesy of ESPN, Pngtree, Clipart.com, Monkey Pen, Daily Tribune, Rappler, & Canva

Still photos courtesy of Sound Cloud, Alamy, Graphics Factory, Clip Art Library, ESPN, & iStock

A TALE OF TWO TALES: DONALD-ELON & BONGBONG-SARA IMPLOSION

The Power That Devours: When Alliances Turn Poisonous

In the ruthless arena of politics, alliances are often less about shared ideals and more about strategic survival. Power brokers clasp hands not in trust, but in trembling calculation – temporary truces sealed with smiles and secrets. But what happens when these expedient pacts begin to rot from within? Across two continents, two such uneasy alliances are now buckling under the weight of their own contradictions, laying bare the true cost of political convenience.

Latest Development

The Senate voted to return the articles of impeachment against Vice President Sara Duterte to the House of Representatives.

Borrowing from the language of basketball, the anti-impeachment senators had long been freezing the ball, skillfully dribbling it around as the crowd grew restless – boos echoing from those hoping to witness a fair and decisive game. In the end, however, they chose not to play at all, effectively stopping the game by walking out of the court entirely.

Much like in a stadium seething with betrayal, this political walkout didn’t just stall the match – it ignited fury. And as boos swell into roars, these senators would be wise to metaphorically shield themselves – heads bowed – as the debris of public outrage begins to fly.

But this moment is no isolated act of cowardice. It’s the climax of a dangerous gamble – a Faustian bargain now crashing into its inevitable reckoning, casting a long, chaotic shadow across an already volatile political landscape.

How did we arrive at this combustible crossroad?

Faustian Bargain Comes at a Price

Power is rarely pursued in isolation. It’s often brokered, traded, and compromised in a grand balancing act where ambition meets opportunity. But some alliances – the most volatile – are Faustian bargains: deals struck for quick gain, blind to the seeds of ruin they sow.

And now, the consequences are arriving with uncanny synchronicity – one storm brewing in the United States, another erupting in our own backyard.

On one side of the world, we have Donald and Elon: two larger-than-life figures whose once-symbiotic bromance has soured into a public feud. On the other, Bongbong and Sara: the face of a once-dominant UniTeam, now reduced to a brittle, fractured alliance barely holding its form.

What binds these stories isn’t geography – it’s their anatomy. Both were marriages of convenience, not conviction. Both thrived on mutual need, not mutual respect. And both, as it turns out, are unraveling with eerie symmetry.

In both tales, the warning is the same: Faustian bargains may offer glittering short-term gains, but they extract a toll that’s very rarely worth the price.

The Donald-Elon Bromance: When Politics Meets Business

For a while, Donald and Elon were a power duo, bound by mutual benefit rather than mutual admiration. Donald’s presidency meant deregulation and government contracts, which were gold for Elon’s empire. Elon, in return, lent his voice to Donald’s policies, helping bolster his status among business elites.

But here’s the thing about deals made for convenience, not conviction – they don’t last.

When Donald’s economic policies threatened Elon’s ventures – particularly in green energy and defense contracts – Elon started distancing himself, openly criticizing Donald’s leadership. And in true Donald’s fashion, retaliation was swift – he threatened to revoke Elon’s lucrative federal contracts, setting off a high-stakes feud between two of the world’s most powerful men.

The public fallout was spectacular. Elon, furious over Donald’s spending bill, called it a disgusting abomination and accused Donald of betraying the American people. Donald, in response, lashed out on Truth Social, saying:

“I’m very disappointed in Elon. I’ve helped Elon a lot... Elon is upset because we took the EV mandate, which was a lot of money for electric vehicles, and they want us to pay billions of dollars in subsidy. Elon knew this from the beginning.”

Elon didn’t hold back either. On X, he fired back:

“Without me, Trump would have lost the election, Dems would control the House and the Republicans would be 51-49 in the Senate. Such ingratitude.”

Donald, never one to let a challenge go unanswered, escalated the feud:

“Elon was ‘wearing thin,’ I asked him to leave, I took away his EV Mandate that forced everyone to buy Electric Cars that nobody else wanted (that he knew for months I was going to do!), and he just went CRAZY!”

Now, Elon’s businesses are feeling the heat – Tesla’s stock has taken a sharp hit, and his ties to government contracts are hanging by a thread. Meanwhile, Donald loses one of his most influential backers, leaving him politically vulnerable as his administration struggles through its final years.

What started as a mutually beneficial alliance has turned into a battlefield, reinforcing a truth that echoes through history: power-driven relationships rarely survive the weight of their contradictions.

Interestingly, the "ugly scenario" projected in my last month’s ATABAY article "Tesla’s Risk: Is Politics Driving Musk Off A Cliff?" appears to be edging toward such a proverbial fall:

Tesla’s sales plummet beyond recovery, leading to mass layoffs, regulatory scrutiny, and investor withdrawals. The brand collapses, potentially forcing a corporate restructuring or acquisition.

The Bongbong-Sara UniTeam: A Marriage of Convenience Gone Wrong

Here at home, the alliance between Bongbong and Sara once seemed unbreakable – two dynastic forces united for electoral triumph. He needed her mass appeal; she, his machinery - to keep her political future secure. Together, they swept the elections, promising stability and continuity.

But like the Donald-Elon bromance, this was never built on trust – only strategic necessity.

Six months before the 2022 election I wrote in my ATABAY article “Letter To Inday Sara Supporter Who Is Also My Friend”:

Bongbong is running under the umbrella of multiple parties with a throng of vested interests. Aiming now for the 2028 presidency is a horde of younger and ambitious breed of second-generation leaders emerging from a band of dynastic political clans embedded in Bongbong’s camp.

The UniTeam cracks emerged quickly. The once-promising partnership soon descended into political infighting, eroding public confidence, and weakening their grip on power.

And now, things have taken an even darker turn.

Sara, once poised for a presidential run in 2028, now faces an impeachment trial, threatening to derail her political future entirely. Meanwhile, her father faces trial at The Hague for crimes against humanity, casting an even larger shadow over her ambitions.

What was once a platform for strength and unity has become a battlefield of scandal and uncertainty, forcing her to fight for survival rather than ascend to power.

A Striking Parallel: How These Alliances Mirror Each Other

Though thousands of miles apart, the implosions of Donald-Elon and Bongbong-Sara share profound similarities.

Transactional Relationship: Neither partnership was rooted in trust; both were purely tactical, driven by short-term gains rather than lasting loyalty.

Power Struggles: As soon as personal ambition clashed, loyalty evaporated, and both alliances began their downward spiral.

Public Disillusionment: The very supporters who once championed these alliances now watch in frustration as they unravel in real-time. Here and now, nabudol has become the buzzword.

It’s an age-old political cycle – an alliance built on ambition alone rarely survives the inevitable reckoning.

Political and Business Implications: The Price They Must Pay

The fallout of these Faustian bargains won’t just fade away – they will reshape political landscapes and economic fortunes in both countries.

Donald and Elon

Donald’s Presidency Weakened: Losing Elon’s support means losing influence in key industries, creating economic uncertainty and political vulnerability.

Elon’s Business Empire in Jeopardy: With Tesla stocks crashing and federal contracts under threat, Elon must rethink his political strategies fast.

Bongbong and Sara

Bongbong’s Governance Challenges: With Sara’s impeachment trial unfolding, internal stability may damage his remaining years in office.

Sara’s 2028 Ambition Derailed: Facing impeachment and the weight of her father’s ICC trial, Sara’s presidential hopes are fading fast.

These alliances weren’t just fleeting political episodes – they were high-stakes gambles, and now both parties are paying the price.

The Reckoning Has Begun

The Donald-Elon bromance and the Bongbong-Sara UniTeam were never truly partnerships – they were transactions, power trades, and alliances of necessity, not trust.

And like every Faustian bargain before them, they’ve begun their inevitable self-destruction.

For Donald and Bongbong, the loss of their key allies weakens their legacies. For Elon and Sara, the political and legal fallout could derail their ambitions down to the ground.

The truth remains: unchecked ambition and moral compromise always lead to regret.

The reckoning has begun. The question is not whether these alliances have crossed the point of no return – it’s how much destruction they have left on the roads behind.

Senator Imee Marcos reacts to Marcos-Duterte alliance collapse

Content & editing put together in collaboration with Microsoft Bing AI-powered Co-pilot

Head collage photos courtesy of The Washington Post, UniTeam e-Boto,  iStock, & Canva

Still photos courtesy of bloomingbit.io, South China Morning Post, Pixabay, & YouTube

 

WHAT'S IN A NAME? ESCUDERO MEANS "SHIELD BEARER"

 

Back in grade school, I often found myself wishing for a more typical Pinoy name – something like Genaro, Domingo, Pedrito – names of my classmates I could still remember. Instead, I had Raymond - a name that stuck out just enough to raise eyebrows and inspire playful teasing.

It didn’t help that classmates and neighbors later rebranded me, Raymundo to fit the familiar rhythm of local names better. My parents told me I was named after Father Raymond, the English-speaking Catholic priest who baptized me. Somehow, learning that made the name feel a little less foreign – but barely so.

Acting Public School Principal during the Boy Scouts of Philippines Week Celebration

 circa 1966

Sitsiritsit: Spelling Nightmare

Then there was my last name: Seneriches. It was a spelling nightmare for anyone hearing it for the first time. Some, trying to dodge the spelling blunders, would break into the folk tune Sitsiritsit, alibangbang… – a light jab that left me smiling awkwardly while quietly wishing the ground would swallow me up.

As I grew older, I learned there was more to my surname story. Our original family name was Cereneche. But during the Japanese occupation, a relative of ours became a fugitive. In the name of safety, my parents and other relatives changed their surnames, giving birth to Seneriches - a name born out of necessity – a new identity crafted in uncertain times.

My friend Nards had his brand of wit, playfully calling me Senepobres. A spot-on wordplay. My dream of graduating from UP fizzled – not from lack of talent, but because of my pobre family’s financial standing. It’s a sob story I detailed in a previous ATABAY article titled My Life-Changing Year In UP.

My freshmen class circa 1967 at the University of the Philippines - Iloilo City

 I'm second from right, first row

Years later, while navigating my corporate life, a colleague named Wing reminded me of just how foreign my name seemed. She recalled our first day at work after college graduation searching a list of new recruits at a now-defunct steel manufacturing company. Among all the names, Raymond Seneriches stood out. She expected to meet someone foreign-looking, only to be greeted by a guy as unmistakably Ilonggo as uga kag laswa. We both laughed at the memory.

Construction group undertaking mass housing project for company employees

Now let’s get back to the title of this post - What’s In A Name? It’s a nod to the very first article I wrote when I launched this blog ATABAY, on August 21, 2021. Inspired by Shakespeare’s immortal line from Romeo and Juliet - A rose by any other name would smell as sweet - that article was my way of searching for the right name for this personal space. I eventually chose ATABAY, a term that means well in Binisaya. A source of water, of depth, of meaning. It just felt right.

Sara's Shield Bearer

But today’s title has a second part: Escudero Means ‘Shield Bearer’. That phrase came from a striking comment made by my college schoolmate and ATABAY reader, Dave. In response to my article Freeze The Ball: The Game Plan In Impeachment Delay, he shared the following intriguing insight (edited lightly for brevity) rooted in the etymology of names:

“One explanation for the Senate President delaying the impeachment process against lying, free-spending VP lies in his name. Escudero means shield bearer, and that is exactly what he is doing - shielding Sara Duterte from being held accountable for her extravagant use of public funds.”

Dave even added a cheeky observation about the Senate President’s first name: “In Brit slang, Chiz means deception.”

Senate President Chiz Escudero

To which I responded: 

“Thank you for your stimulating and unconventional insight. It immediately brought to mind Shakespeare’s timeless words: ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’ 

“Indeed, a name does not alter the essence of what – or who – it represents. As you pointed out, the name Chiz Escudero could signify a “deceptive shield bearer” in the context of VP Sara’s impeachment trial.

“Shakespeare’s wisdom holds even in reverse: a distinguished title such as Senate President does not necessarily transform the nature of the person who bears it. In Escudero’s case, the symbolism of his name remains unchanged despite the prestige of his position.”

Name That Resolution!

Speaking of Sara Duterte’s impeachment, here’s the latest buzz. Several senators are juggling different versions of resolutions aimed at dismissing the impeachment articles.

In the spirit of this name-centric piece, let’s play a naming game by naming each version of the resolution with a fitting moniker:

Jinggoy Estrada’s version:  Asked to read, but not sign it yet. 

Name: Read-Only Resolution.

Ping Lacson’s version: It is being passed around.

Name: Viral Resolution

Imee Marcos’ version: “Walang butas.”

Name: Leak-Proof Resolution.

Joel Villanueva’s version: Saw it in a group chat.

Name: Discussion Topic Resolution

Bong Go’s version: Mum’s the word.

Name: Silent Resolution

Koko Pimentel's version: Not authentic.

Name: Fake Resolution

Chiz Escudero’s version: Claims no measure filed.

Name: Scrap-of-Paper Resolution

Other senators' version: Not seen it.

Name: Invisible Resolution

And then there’s Senator Bato dela Rosa. At first, he said, “Meron ba?” about the resolution. Later admitted, “Galing sa office ko.”

Name: Sleight-of-Hand Resolution

Senator Ronald "Bato" dela Rosa

Looking at all these shenanigans, it’s hard not to feel like we’re watching a drama unfold in the House of Cards – and true to the metaphor, it may be one gust of truth away from collapse.

The Stones Will Cry Out

Let me end on a more somber and symbolic note. Last year, while scrolling on Facebook, I stumbled upon a photo shared by my friend Jingjing. It showed a pile of bato – stones – with a cryptic caption: Can you figure out what it says?

The answers were varied, some even humorous. One said, “Jing, it gives me a headache.” But hidden in the optical illusion was a chilling message: The stones will cry out.

It struck a chord. Bato, of course, is the senator’s nickname. In the biblical context, the phrase comes from Luke 19:40: “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out.”

If truth is silenced - whether in The Hague or the Senate – sooner or later, the truth will find its voice. The stones themselves will speak.

A Final Jest

And now, to lighten the mood, a throwback to a college joke I found in Jingle Magazine - a perfect sign-off for this name-obsessed post:

Boy 1: “I changed my Pedro Estut name.”

Boy 2: “What’s your new name?” 

Boy 1: “Engelbert Estut.”

And just like that, Engelbert Humperdinck croons The Last Waltz in the background…

I wonder should I go or should I stay?

The band had only one more song to play…

The cryptic message: The stone will cry out

Content & editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head collage photos courtesy of Wikipedia, Philippine News Agency, Wallpapers.com, Freepik & Canva

Still photos courtesy of Senate Public Relations and Information Bureau, Philippine News Agency, Facebook, Gallery, & family album.