OPINION
Ed Javier
When Help Becomes A Headline
Photo credit: Liza Marcos
There is a deep wisdom in the old Filipino values that teach us: Ang tunay na tumutulong, hindi nagyayabang. Ang tunay na malasakit ay tahimik, hindi maingay.
True charity needs no announcement, no press release, no public relations packaging. It needs no spotlight.
The noblest forms of help are those done quietly, away from the cameras and the microphones.
That is why the recent announcement by a Palace official regarding President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos personally shouldering the hospital bills of the late National Artist Nora Aunor felt so out of place, even distasteful.
Let us be fair: by all indications, President Marcos and the First Lady themselves intended for their generosity to remain private.
They did not call a press conference. They did not post on social media. They did not demand thanks.
It was an overzealous communications official who, perhaps seeking to score points or curry favor, took it upon herself to broadcast the information to the public.
In doing so, she undermined not only the dignity of the Marcoses' gesture but also the memory of Nora Aunor, one of the greatest icons of Philippine culture.
Filipinos know instinctively and culturally that charity must be humble.
We are taught from a young age that when we help someone especially someone who is grieving, struggling, or facing death, we do it with the utmost respect and discretion.
We do not parade our generosity. We do not treat acts of compassion as political capital.
To do so is not only bad taste; it is a betrayal of our cultural values.
There was absolutely no need for the public to know who paid Nora Aunor’s hospital bills. She was a National Artist, a Superstar beloved by millions.
Her final days deserved dignity, not pity. Publicizing that she needed financial help and revealing who stepped in stripped her of that dignity.
It framed her final chapter as one of dependence rather than a celebration of her monumental contributions to Philippine arts and culture.
Moreover, it placed the President and the First Lady in an awkward position.
Their generosity, which by all accounts was genuine and personally funded, became tarnished by the optics of self-congratulation, optics they themselves clearly did not seek.
Instead of being remembered for their quiet act of compassion, they are now unfairly entangled in a narrative of political grandstanding.
This is not merely a communications blunder; it is a violation of delicadeza, a deep-seated sense of propriety that once governed Filipino public life.
Delicadeza teaches us to know when to speak and when to be silent, when to step forward and when to step back. It is what tells a public official: “This is not your story to tell.”
There is an old saying that "money can buy many things, but it can never buy class." Sadly, that lesson seems lost on the Palace official responsible for this tasteless announcement.
The lack of delicadeza exposed a deeper failure, one that no amount of money, no title, and no press release can fix.
But beyond this incident lies an even bigger concern. If a simple, delicate matter such as this, a small but symbolic gesture, cannot be handled properly by the President’s communications team, how much more the larger, more complex issues of the nation?
At a time when President Marcos' approval ratings have plunged, the last thing he needs is a communications group that seems tone-deaf to Filipino sensibilities.
In this highly charged environment, every word, every announcement, every move matters.
There is no room for amateurs. There is no room for misplaced eagerness.
The President needs a communications team that understands context, nuance, and the deep emotional undercurrents of the Filipino people.
He needs advisers who know when to shine a light on good deeds and when to let quiet kindness speak for itself.
Sadly, the current setup shows cracks that can no longer be ignored.
If these are the ones handling the Palace’s messaging, what can the President expect when bigger crises emerge?
When the stakes are not a simple gesture of charity, but national security, economic recovery, or political stability?
The writing is on the wall. It is time for a serious revamp of the communications team, not out of politics, but out of necessity.
The President deserves a team that can match the gravity of his office, the complexities of this time, and the high expectations of the Filipino people.
There are moments in a presidency when missteps are forgivable and forgettable. But this is not one of them.
Missteps like these, small as they may seem, confirm the public’s fear that the leadership is surrounded by individuals who either do not understand the Filipino heart or worse, do not care to understand it.
As we write this piece, news reports reveal that President Marcos Jr. has suffered another drop in his trust ratings by 5%, following a previous decline of 17%.
This ongoing slump highlights the growing unease surrounding his leadership and underscores the importance of addressing the deeper issues at play.
President Marcos and First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos did the right thing by extending help.
They also did the right thing by choosing silence. They deserved better from those tasked to speak for them.
In moments of grief, the Filipino people expect not grandstanding, but grace. Not noise, but quiet dignity. Not PR stunts, but true compassion.
It is a lesson that must be learned now or the administration risks losing even more than points in a survey.
It risks losing the most vital currency of any leadership: the trust and goodwill of the people.
Lose the people’s trust, and everything else crumbles. No legacy, no achievement, no amount of spin can rebuild what’s been broken.
Because once the Filipino heart turns away, no speech can win it back. Sabi nga ng matatanda: ang tiwala, kapag nawala, mahirap nang ibalik.
True charity needs no announcement, no press release, no public relations packaging. It needs no spotlight.
The noblest forms of help are those done quietly, away from the cameras and the microphones.
That is why the recent announcement by a Palace official regarding President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos personally shouldering the hospital bills of the late National Artist Nora Aunor felt so out of place, even distasteful.
Let us be fair: by all indications, President Marcos and the First Lady themselves intended for their generosity to remain private.
They did not call a press conference. They did not post on social media. They did not demand thanks.
It was an overzealous communications official who, perhaps seeking to score points or curry favor, took it upon herself to broadcast the information to the public.
In doing so, she undermined not only the dignity of the Marcoses' gesture but also the memory of Nora Aunor, one of the greatest icons of Philippine culture.
Filipinos know instinctively and culturally that charity must be humble.
We are taught from a young age that when we help someone especially someone who is grieving, struggling, or facing death, we do it with the utmost respect and discretion.
We do not parade our generosity. We do not treat acts of compassion as political capital.
To do so is not only bad taste; it is a betrayal of our cultural values.
There was absolutely no need for the public to know who paid Nora Aunor’s hospital bills. She was a National Artist, a Superstar beloved by millions.
Her final days deserved dignity, not pity. Publicizing that she needed financial help and revealing who stepped in stripped her of that dignity.
It framed her final chapter as one of dependence rather than a celebration of her monumental contributions to Philippine arts and culture.
Moreover, it placed the President and the First Lady in an awkward position.
Their generosity, which by all accounts was genuine and personally funded, became tarnished by the optics of self-congratulation, optics they themselves clearly did not seek.
Instead of being remembered for their quiet act of compassion, they are now unfairly entangled in a narrative of political grandstanding.
This is not merely a communications blunder; it is a violation of delicadeza, a deep-seated sense of propriety that once governed Filipino public life.
Delicadeza teaches us to know when to speak and when to be silent, when to step forward and when to step back. It is what tells a public official: “This is not your story to tell.”
There is an old saying that "money can buy many things, but it can never buy class." Sadly, that lesson seems lost on the Palace official responsible for this tasteless announcement.
The lack of delicadeza exposed a deeper failure, one that no amount of money, no title, and no press release can fix.
But beyond this incident lies an even bigger concern. If a simple, delicate matter such as this, a small but symbolic gesture, cannot be handled properly by the President’s communications team, how much more the larger, more complex issues of the nation?
At a time when President Marcos' approval ratings have plunged, the last thing he needs is a communications group that seems tone-deaf to Filipino sensibilities.
In this highly charged environment, every word, every announcement, every move matters.
There is no room for amateurs. There is no room for misplaced eagerness.
The President needs a communications team that understands context, nuance, and the deep emotional undercurrents of the Filipino people.
He needs advisers who know when to shine a light on good deeds and when to let quiet kindness speak for itself.
Sadly, the current setup shows cracks that can no longer be ignored.
If these are the ones handling the Palace’s messaging, what can the President expect when bigger crises emerge?
When the stakes are not a simple gesture of charity, but national security, economic recovery, or political stability?
The writing is on the wall. It is time for a serious revamp of the communications team, not out of politics, but out of necessity.
The President deserves a team that can match the gravity of his office, the complexities of this time, and the high expectations of the Filipino people.
There are moments in a presidency when missteps are forgivable and forgettable. But this is not one of them.
Missteps like these, small as they may seem, confirm the public’s fear that the leadership is surrounded by individuals who either do not understand the Filipino heart or worse, do not care to understand it.
As we write this piece, news reports reveal that President Marcos Jr. has suffered another drop in his trust ratings by 5%, following a previous decline of 17%.
This ongoing slump highlights the growing unease surrounding his leadership and underscores the importance of addressing the deeper issues at play.
President Marcos and First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos did the right thing by extending help.
They also did the right thing by choosing silence. They deserved better from those tasked to speak for them.
In moments of grief, the Filipino people expect not grandstanding, but grace. Not noise, but quiet dignity. Not PR stunts, but true compassion.
It is a lesson that must be learned now or the administration risks losing even more than points in a survey.
It risks losing the most vital currency of any leadership: the trust and goodwill of the people.
Lose the people’s trust, and everything else crumbles. No legacy, no achievement, no amount of spin can rebuild what’s been broken.
Because once the Filipino heart turns away, no speech can win it back. Sabi nga ng matatanda: ang tiwala, kapag nawala, mahirap nang ibalik.
May 3, 2025
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