IN two previous mini-articles, I mainly carried what I used to
believe then, that art should not be the business of government that uses
tax money for its promotion. I went against the hidden rationales for such
institutions as the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the National Commission
on Culture and the Arts, and the concept of a National Artist
award. My main argument was that these were all a lie and a reflection of
an art not of the people these pretended to be for but merely by an elite
set of artists serving the aesthetics of the elite, artists too whose
individual businesses may actually not be the prime contributors to our
nation's tax collection.
Another aspect of these articles implies a truism in
literature, which concerns itself
with the politics of publishing within a clique-prone Philippine literati that leaves
no room for a totally dissenting standard of younger literary aesthetics.
And the young should also be counted as a part of the nation, if I am not
mistaken.
However, I now happen to have a different macro-view of
both these matters, despite my retaining certain facets of the old angles.
My change of view on the first matter is not
borne of any interest in an endowment or grant from the NCCA, the CCP,
the state universities, or any government entity; nor has this change been prompted by a meditation
on the possibility of being offered any such help which may come through, say, a
publishing grant. This has simply been promoted by my realization that
perhaps my initial reaction was inspired by a complex combination of 1) an
arguable populism and 2) a mere disgust at the overt patronage system I saw
around me, along with the selfish sour-graping sort of angles thrown
around (despite my
protestations to such a reading on my person). The change came thus: a later self-assessment of my point of
view led me to realize that government cannot help but engage itself in
the promotion of what it deems as the nation's art. It cannot. My realization
said to me: perhaps our individual protestations are more towards details of
a ruling clique's actions, actions which would involve sins of omission or
sins of wrong inclusion, and so on. For in the end one might not protest
too much if one's interest, selfish or partisan, is drafted into this same
system. For, certainly, all regimes cannot ignore the authority of
manipulating a nation's art collection in the same way that it cannot
ignore the demand of holding on to a Department of Education. For what
would happen indeed if we leave everything to the people (or a corporate
elite)? Especially among a people rendered helpless in clamoring for a
more socialized education from a government which has its hands tied to the
interests of creditors? All governments
must involve a modicum of elitism, if only---at best---to guard the
populist philosophy of serving the people. This, because the people, one might say,
and this is a lesson even the Communists have learned throughout their
insurgency, does not seem likely to have the capacity to know what's good for them
(or know who's truly on their side). Businessmen who practice the daily art of hype know very well that
people will try to learn what any hype advises them to know, and it is
only government that can apply the virtue of turning its elitist influence into a
pro-people program, as against corporate patronage the motives of which
may either be solely profit or tax deductions.
There will remain conflicts over a government's
sponsorship of certain art, mainly on what should be up there and what
shouldn't, and changes do occur through the dynamics of history. But in the
meantime, no one can argue -- I believe now -- that all governments need
symbols and monuments, and the art each regime promotes, bad or otherwise,
mediocre or great, are all a reflection of its (sometimes fraudulently)
populist visions.
