IN 1991, those who favored the retention of the U.S. bases in the Philippines loved to mention that 1) the bases employed 40,000 Filipinos; and 2) Olongapo’s population of 350,000 directly benefited from the presence of the R&R-inclined American sailors. Considering that the Philippines was still reeling from the successive blows of seven military coups, a killer earthquake, an apocalyptic volcanic explosion and near-zero investor confidence, the pro-bases camp warned that the economy would collapse if the Philippine Senate rejected the extension of the U.S. bases treaty.
After hearing, for the nth time, this line of reasoning, a Manila newspaper came out with this editorial: “To suggest that the immediate interests of [Olongapo] are synonymous with the national interest is specious. If it be argued that [Olongapo] will suffer from the loss of the base, it can just as well be argued that only [Olongapo] truly profited from its presence…. If it be argued that no plans have been fully laid by the…government for their coping with the departure of the Americans, it can also be fairly argued that Olongapo has done virtually nothing to prepare for its departure…. The only significant point to remember is that Olongapo is a diabetic—dependent from first to last on the largesse spewed out by the U.S. base. To use this diabetic condition as reason for prolonging U.S. military presence in [a supposedly independent] country and…postponing the labors of self-reliance and economic strengthening is absurd and wicked. The argument will not wash.”
On Sept. 16, 1991—the REAL Philippine Independence Day—the Senate of America’s former colony rejected the bases treaty despite unrelenting pressure from Malacañang, the U.S. Embassy and the threats of economic Armageddon. More than a decade later, Olongapo is a thriving city servicing the R&R needs of the foreign executives of the Subic free trade zone area. The same city officials who whined about the catastrophe that they supposedly foresaw now extol the economic vitality of the “new” Olongapo.
The parallelism with the CNMI garment industry’s grim forecasts is obvious. Since 1998, we have been ceaselessly reminded—in so many, MANY, words—that the commonwealth as we know it will cease to exist without the garment industry. Hence, the CNMI government has to keep the minimum wage low, allow more alien workers to come in, keep the feds out of the way, and hire lobbyists who would assure right-wing politicians in Washington that we are creating THEIR heaven on earth (without mentioning, of course, the outnumbered locals, the incestuous relationship between big business and some local politicians, the bloated government, and the welfare mentality the system has perpetuated, if not nurtured).
I find this argument insulting to the people of the CNMI. It implies that the local people and their government can’t be anything but wards of the garment industry. The people of these islands have covered vast stretches of the Pacific Ocean using wooden boats; they have survived hundreds of years of colonial rule; and they made it through the most terrible war ever known to humankind—but, according to SGMA, it will be all over for them if garment factories leave Saipan.
Do you buy this crap, er, contention? Me neither.
The CNMI is not a Third World country; it is an American commonwealth and its people are citizens of the world’s greatest nation. How can they be nothing without an industry that has only kept the wages in the private sector low, transformed the local government into a perpetual job placement agency for locals, corrupted certain politicians, clogged the island’s sewers, turned the Puerto Rico dump into an environmental nightmare, gave the CNMI a bad name abroad, necessitated the hiring of lobbyists that cost us millions and millions of dollars, provoked the enmity of one of America’s two national political parties, and put to risk local control over local politics?
And for all this and for all the hundreds of millions of profits they amassed since they got here, they want YOU, the local people, to be grateful to them.
