UP President Angelo Jimenez’s ambiguity on his stance on charter change (cha-cha) permits the perversion of our democratic structures and nationalist aspirations. Such indecision was exhibited in his remarks during the House of Representatives’ consideration of Resolution of Both Houses 7 last week, a cha-cha proposal that will allow full foreign ownership of educational institutions.
Jimenez said discussions on cha-cha continue in UP, yet his administration still has no “strong position for now against the amendments.” Regardless, he pointed to the possibility of Congress imposing regulatory measures and “innovatively interpreting present constitutional restraints.”
The UP president’s vague stance on cha-cha is a wanton betrayal of UP’s role as a social critic that attempts to address the problems of the nation and takes part in social transformation by uniting with the struggles of the marginalized.
The lack of a decisive position undermines the necessity of the situation. Playing safe and subservient to the powers-that-be—to possibly curry favors from Malacañang—is a dereliction of duty to the Filipino people and UP constituents to whom Jimenez is duty-bound to serve. While engagements with the community on cha-cha is imperative, the need for action now is even greater, for UP may lose everything it stands for should cha-cha succeed, just like with dictator Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s Martial Law.
Jimenez craves discussions on cha-cha, yet the UP community has already marked its resounding opposition. No less than the sectoral regents, together with coalitions of UP students, youth groups, and other multisectoral formations have rejected cha-cha. The sectors grasp all too well that cha-cha will erode the education sector’s public and nationalist character.
Full foreign ownership of educational institutions will pave the way for further technocratic spirals of institutions at the expense of holistic education, already seen in the reduction of general education courses of universities for the sake of “internationalization.” The ramifications of cha-cha also bleed through other aspects: threatening displacement of indigenous peoples, weakened domestic production, and evisceration of control over public utilities.
Such perils are just some of the many that cha-cha entails, looming ever larger under Jimenez’s term. By failing to categorically oppose cha-cha, Jimenez reneges on his promised vision of “producing ideas and knowledge that serve humanity” and “encompassing people’s national aspirations” at a time when it is most needed. He walks back both from his own words and his constituents.
Turning back on the people at a time of great tumult is the legacy Jimenez will imprint if he fails to act more decisively—and quickly he must. Such a step contrasts the move of his predecessor, the Martial Law era UP President Salvador Lopez, who staunchly advocated for democratic rights amid the Marcos dictatorship, even if it cost him a second term. As an Iskolar ng Bayan during the final years of Marcos Sr., Jimenez should know that collective action can spur transformative change and oust a tyrant.
The state is unforgiving and quick. The Marcos Jr. administration’s full force to advance its sinister agenda must be met with the same vigor. Toward that pursuit, the UP community has the capacity to pressure the university administration to take part in the campaign. Jimenez can crystallize his representation and leadership of the community by urgently taking a strong position against cha-cha and invigorating his engagement with the movement he boasts being a part of.
The UP president and the entire community of the national university face the imperative of leading the education sector in rallying against cha-cha that poses irreversible detriments to the nation. Like Salvador, who professed he was “no drum beater for the government,” Jimenez’s vision can only come to fruition by decisively taking the lead in opposing cha-cha and braving the turmoil the nation confronts. ●
