Silence

Silence


Posted 11:11pm (Mla time) Dec 29, 2004
By Conrado de Quiros
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the December 30, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


(Conclusion) THE SECOND aspect, or guise, of silence is giving.

In giving, the giver does not draw attention to herself. She disappears in the act of giving. Obviously this does not refer to politicians who have not been known to give without benefit of a camera rolling or clicking away. For the true giver, however, whether she gives something wrought out of her hand, or whether she gives something of herself, she disappears, and the only thing that are left are the gift and the given.

It is a form of silence. Asking is a loud act that draws attention to oneself. This is what I want, this is what I need. You cannot get more clamorous and clangorous than that. Giving is a quiet act. It is an act that makes the giver anonymous, it is an act that renders the giver invisible. It is an act that wraps the giver in silence.

That, too, I find myself appreciating in the context of today's world, especially in light of globalization. The whole concept of globalization is really a selfish one in more ways than that it has been reduced nearly solely to the globalization of commodities and the turning of human beings into automatons who produce. It is so in that it is premised in the attitude of asking rather than giving. The one question those who enter it, or are sucked into its whirlpool, ask is not, "What can I give to the other peoples of the world?" It is, "What can I get from the other peoples of the world?" It is not, "What can I contribute to humanity?" It is, "What can I derive from humanity?"

Lastly--and this one was repeatedly suggested though it was never clearly highlighted--silence is the ability or willingness to raise questions rather than propose answers.

I have attended many media conferences, and I have always been assailed by the rush of people to come up with "concrete proposals" at the end of the day. I was in Barcelona some months ago for just such a conference, i.e., building communication bridges between Europe and Asia. And I remember saying exasperatedly to the young man who was moderating our group and was eager to regale the plenary session with a long list of what-to-do's that maybe we would do better to just see first what divided Europe and Asia communication-wise. That was to say, maybe we would do better just raising questions than supplying answers, whether at working committee or plenary level.

I have found--and this I can say with much conviction after a half century of life--that one insightful question is always worth a thousand answers. The answers tend to be blithe, or facile, or superficial anyway and are forgotten as soon as the conference is over. It is the insightful question that lives on and becomes the rallying point or battleground in forums.

The ability to ask questions partakes of silence, too. Giving answers is a loud act. It thunders forth to everyone whether they are willing to listen or not: "This is how I see things, this is how I want things done." Asking questions, like giving, is an act steeped in silence. It is self-effacing. It allows the one who is asking questions to fade in the process, leaving only his question hanging over everyone like a cloud, sometimes dark and ominous, sometimes bright and full of promise.

But more than this, the ability to ask questions is not just an ability to ask questions about the world, it is an ability to ask questions about oneself. It is the ability to ransack one's soul or submit it to the implacable terrors of a self-inquisition. I think it was our Muslim sister from America who pointed out that objectivity is nothing more than subjectivity expanded tremendously by travel and experience. You remain subjective at the end of the day, but you represent a broader subjectivity than the one you started out with.

That is premised however on openness, which is the ability to ask questions. When you start asking questions, you do not just learn to suspend judgment about the world, you cut the rope and let yourself fall. Maybe you'll crash to the ground, all your beliefs and theories about the world and your self-valuation exploding into a hundred pieces. Or maybe you'll soar to the heavens.

But this is the part where I will diverge from many of you. For me, this dimension of silence is allied not with the comfort of certainty, which religion offers, but with the flailing of doubt. Doubt is the one precious gift a journalist has, and doubt is the one faculty that I expect to be, or look forward to being, honed by silence.

You ask what we can do to make the global media better. I do not know. I can only speak for myself, which is perhaps not just the best place to start but the only place to. I can only say that having learned a new lesson in humility, or in silence, I am more resolutely willing to incorporate in my work a spirit of asking questions rather than proffering answers, an attitude of giving rather than demanding, a willingness to listen amid the din of doom and deadline.

The beginning of communication is not sound, it is silence. The one thing the three aspects of silence above have in common is the awareness or discovery of the other person. Listening is being aware of, or discovering, the other person. Giving is being aware of, or discovering, the other person. Asking questions is being aware of, or discovering, the other person.

In the end, silence is the awareness of, or discovery, of the other person. Which is the beginning of communication. Without the other person, there is no dialogue, there is only monologue. Without the other person, there is no communication, there is only self-indulgence. Without the other person, there is no love, there is only, well, that is what you do with yourself in the john.

But I have taxed your capacity to listen long enough. I will now practice what I preach and lapse into a long and deep silence.