The University of the Philippines Amidst a Nation in
Crisis: Its History, Role and Directions
B. The Background for Academic Repression:
1972-1982
Martial
rule silenced the mass media and scores of students, journalists, labor
leaders, academicians and political oppositionists were hauled into
detention centers. Congress was suspended. Civil liberties were denied.
Referenda, plebiscites and false elections were held to legitimize the
institution of martial law.
The
environment for the repression in 1972 can easily be gleaned from the
headlines of that year. The economy showed signs of collapse, as crisis
after crisis battered the people. Rice shortages, oil price hikes, the
devaluation of the peso, increases in the prices of basic commodities and
other economic maladies – all these were symptoms of a rapidly collapsing
neocolonial state.
In
response, the Filipino people – workers, peasants, and the intelligentia
clamored for revolutionary change. They exhibited this through various forms
of dissent: demonstrations, rallies, strikes and boycotts. The armed
struggle loomed as a major option for the people to seize power and to take
their destiny in their own hands.
US
imperialism, however, rushed to the rescue of its client state, the Marcos
regime. As the political bureaucracy was militarized, the World Bank and
other foreign lending agencies pumped some $2.2 billion in foreign loans
into the country in 1972 while foreign investments flowed into several areas
of the economy.
The
economic crisis characteristic of neocolonies never really abated however,
from 1973 onwards. A brief economic boom in the mid-1970s was overshadowed
by international recession. The peso’s purchasing power continued to
deteriorate. Foreign debt consistently increased by billions per year to
prop up the bankrupt regime. The balance of trade and balance of payments
continued to favor the foreign sector. Prices of basic commodities
multiplied as fast as unemployment rates (estimated by the Ranis report of
1974 as somewhere between 25% to 30%).
In the
wake of this crisis, Filipino-owned small and medium scale industries were
systematically edged out. More privileges were granted to foreign monopoly
capital coming in, mainly Americans and Japanese. Foreign support was the
main economic prop for the regime of repression.
Transforming UP as an ‘Agent of Change’
for the Regime
The
potentials of the mass media and the educational system as effective
instruments of deception were well-known to the henchmen of the US-backed
Marcos regime in 1972. This explains the shutdown of important opposition
papers in the past and censorship in the media.
Thus,
when martial law was declared in 1972, the very first target for control was
the educational system. Presidential Decree 6A (PD-6A) was issued, placing
the control and administration of higher education in the State (meaning
Malacanang). The arrangement served the regime’s enunciated policy ‘to
strengthen the national consciousness and promote desirable cultural
values’. This principle actually aligned the educational policy along
State-directed priorities, its so-called ‘national development goals’. Among
others, the educational system should produce ‘middle-level skills’ required
for that development. The development of high level professions will provide
the leadership in this ‘development’.
PD-6A was
but a revised edition of the Presidential Commission to Survey Philippine
Education (PCSPE), a Ford Foundation-funded undertaking in 1969 which sought
to mold education according to the needs of foreign big business in the
guise ‘national development’ and ‘industrialization’.
If the
Philippine educational system is to effectively serve so-called national
development goals and the export-oriented policy of the government, its
systematic reorganization must not spare the country’s premier institution
of higher learning, the University of the Philippines.
PD 58: The UP System and the Slogan of
‘Autonomy’
Presidential decree 58, instituting major changes in the U.P. was issued
only two months after September 21,1972, the declaration of martial rule.
The decree transformed the State University into a UP System and created
autonomous units, foremost among which was UP at Los Banos. Such autonomy,
the decree, said was necessary for the University to apply the academic and
technical expertise and physical resources ‘to achieve the purposes of the
new society’.
The
Philippine Center for Advanced Studies (PCAS) was to follow suit in 1973.
Like the UPLB, its autonomy ensured that authority was decentralized. In
both cases, the academic freedom of the entire U.P. was clearly violated.
UPLB and PCAS autonomy made sure that their operations would be unhampered
by the U.P. central administration control.
Subsequently, the U.P. Charter was modified. Later called the U.P. Code, the
revision saw to it that research and extension was on equal footing with
instruction as a U.P. function.
It should
be recalled that it was the PCSPE which proposed that the ‘U.P. should
stand at the apex of tertiary education in the public system’. The U.P.
subsequently had to be renamed as the ‘National University of the
Philippines’. It was the PCSPE which likewise proposed the establishment of
three regional state universities and colleges in Luzon, Visayas and
Mindanao – an objective partly fulfilled by PD 58 and the revision of the
U.P. Charter.
Towards Closer Ties with the National
Government and Private Business
The next
development in the U.P. only put everything into place. The University
developed closer ties with the national government and big private firms.
This put the University at some distance from the pursuit of activities
meant to serve the Filipino working masses.
The U.P.
faculty became the biggest consulting firm for the national government and
private business by 1972 onwards. U.P. instructors and professors became the
think-tank of the regime, providing it with management and feasibility
studies. The U.P. served as a pool of trainors, speakers and resource
persons/experts in various fields. Several faculty members were directly
involved in ‘development’ agencies of the government.
The
faculty of the Institute of Environmental Planning, for example, provided
technical assistance in planning and programming the ‘development’ of the
Bicol River Basin which has displaced a number of families in favor of
foreign-owned companies. The Institute of Mass Communications, on the other
hand, became the main research body for the government’s family planning
campaign strategies. Meanwhile, the Population Institute provided
professional demographic research and evaluation for the Philippine
population program, which is mainly foreign-funded. The Law Center became an
important legal preserve for the needs of Malacanang. It is not surprising
that present and former members of the faculty occupy key positions at the
National Economic Development Authority (NEDA), the Central Bank (CB), the
Budget Commission, the Ministry of Trade, the Ministry of Highways and
Public Works, and even in the cabinet where six members were former deans
and professors of U.P. This elite group serving ‘national development goals’
comprise the so-called ‘new technocracy’ of the regime.
The
prostitution of the University could easily be discerned through the various
units and research centers which have sprouted inside the campus.
The
Philippine Center for Economic Development (PCED) was created by PD 453 in
1973. It was tasked with providing the national government with an adequate
research base for economic planning and policy formation. Working in close
coordination with the College of Business Administration, the center
actually functions as the conduit of corporate, multinational ideology
legitimized as academic research. Approaches to problems favored foreign
financing institutions. Whether the PCED has helped in any way to multiply
several times the country’s GNP is not the relevant question. What is clear
is that its ultimate beneficiaries are mostly its foreign sponsors and the
policy-makers of the repressive US-backed Marcos regime.
The
National Engineering Center, composed of five components which are
consultative and advisory in nature, is another squatter in the academic
community. Established in the late 1970s, its main objective was to ‘improve
the quality of engineering education whereby the number of graduates would
match the requirement of the industry and economy’.
One of
its components, the Transport Training Center, is instrumental for such
projects as the Light Rail Transit System and Traffic Signalling System. The
Center for Applied Geodesy reportedly employs and trains a number of
military personnel involved in mapping counter-insurgency strategies and
military engineering projects.
Institutionalizing Academic Prostitution
The list
could be extended further. The Institute for Small Scale Industries – a
non-degree granting unit – primarily develops small-scale capitalist
entrepreneurship, apparently to boost export-oriented policies as
recommended by World Bank economists. The Asian Institute of Tourism
develops and professionalizes the tourism industry, a very questionable
priority. The International Rice Research Institute has tie-ups with UP Los
Banos to develop high-yielding rice varieties and other crop species which
thrive only on fertilizers and drug-oriented technology sold by developed
countries. The IRRI-UPLB tie-up serves more the needs of foreign
corporations engaged in massive agri-business.
In 1983,
the Philippine Social Science Center was inaugurated amidst such
controversies as the importation of all materials used in the construction
of its buildings. Whether the social science to be developed within the
aegis of the center would respond to the needs of the Filipino people or to
serve the interests of its Japanese sponsor, only the Japanese and their
local academic agents seem to know.
Meanwhile
long-established units of the University have been either ‘revitalized’ or
reoriented to be more useful to the national government and big comprador
business. The Statistical Center, College of Public Administration, College
of Business Administration, Institute of Environmental Planning, Institute
of Industrial Relations (formerly ALEC), and the School of Economics now
exist for the use of the government and private sectors. The College of
Education however, continues to produce the regime’s educational bureaucrats
– directors, supervisors, principals who serve to be efficient transmission
belts for neocolonial values dictated by the regime and its foreign
sponsors. In the guise of research and technical assistance, they elaborate
and apologize for these policies, institutionalizing them in the educational
bureaucracy.
The
College of Law and the Law Center are now research arms of the Batasang
Pambansa, the judiciary, and Malacanang. The College of Engineering closely
works with the National Manpower Corporation, the National Irrigation
Administration, and the Ministry of Public Works. The College of Public
Administration (CPA) has working arrangements with the Presidential
Reorganization Commission and the Civil Service Commission. CPA even
conducts ‘management’ seminars for military officers while its faculty and
staff are often tapped to teach courses at the National Defense College of
the Philippines (NDCP). The Local Government Center is the training arm of
the Ministry of Local Government and Community Development. The Institute of
Public Health trains manpower from the Ministry of Health. UPLB closely
consults with the Ministry of Agriculture and Natural Resources. The School
of Economics closely complements the efforts of NEDA, while the College of
Business Administration and its Center for Management Studies serve as the
brain reserve of the Finance and Trade Ministries, the Board of Investments
and the Securities and Exchange Commission.
Where U.P. Graduates Go: Indicator of
U.P.’s Prostitution
One
important gauge of the University’s direction is an assessment of where its
graduates go. The question even becomes more valid within the framework of
viewing the U.P. education as an ‘investment’ of the Filipino people, since
it is admittedly they who support it. Through a regressive system of
taxation, the University subsidizes all students rich or poor, to the tune
of P1,650 per student per semester. As such, whatever benefits derived from
U.P. graduates must be socially shared.
A study
by Ernesto Pernia of the U.P. School of Economics (UPSE) in 1979, however,
proved otherwise. Among others, it was found out that more than two out of
five U.P. graduates sought employment in business corporations, private
companies, and multinational corporations. Only one out of five went into
teaching and research.
As the
private sector – according to the graduates themselves – tended to be a more
attractive place for employment than the public sector, the predominant
majority of U.P. graduates who came from the regions did not return to their
home areas for employment. Graduates from Metro Manila tended to remain and
work in the area. Moreover, Metro Manila’s share of U.P. graduates appears
to have increased in time, from one-third in 1961-1970 to nearly two-fifths
in 1971-1975.
A major
assumption that could be made is that U.P. alumni engaged in public service,
research and teaching are likely to make more beneficial contributions
(direct and multiplier effect) to society than those involved in private
business, corporations and multinationals. Along this line, the evidence of
employment patterns so far reveals that U.P. alumni’s contributions to
social development is minimal, according to the Pernia study.
Foreign Funding and Institution of
Neo-Colonial Values
Foreign
funding is not something new in U.P. education. The circumstances of US
colonial conquest of the Philippines gave rise to the U.P. 76 years ago.
Since then, it has depended on funding from foreign sources.
Tradition
has it that the University keeps an open policy with regard to foreign
intervention. Usually disguised as altruistic educational aid, university
officials never conceal their enthusiasm for the entry of foreign funding
for research and teaching. After the Second World War, the cold war between
the superpowers ensued. This period saw the US Agency for International
Development (USAID), Ford, Rockefeller, and Asia Foundations entrench
themselves in the University as purveyors of cultural imperialism.
‘Donations’ of these agencies went into physical plant improvement,
establishment of new programs, revitalization of units, and funding for
fellowships and scholarships abroad.
This
pattern intensified after 1972. The School of Economics for example,
reported in 1974 that virtually all its graduates were supported either by
external funds or government fellowships.
Although
on the surface, the arrangement looks harmless, and even something to be
grateful for, essentially it is not. Many fellowships, scholarships and
special assignments to participate in foreign or local exchange programs
abroad have ended up strengthening neocolonial values in U.P. education. The
Filipino’s cultural value of ‘utang na loob’ (debt of gratitude) ensures
that with the dominance of corporate, multinational interests in the
academe, the University cannot ably exercise its objective, independent task
of criticism and creativity.
Meanwhile, foreign loans intended to develop some areas, programs and units
of the University have contributed immensely to the gradual re-orientation
of the University in the maintenance of the repressive status quo. During
the martial law period, the entry and plunder of monopoly capital in the
country was encouraged by official policy. The World Bank, particularly, has
a heavy stake in the educational system of the country to develop Filipino
human capital. For what? Renato Constantino (The Continuing Miseducation of
the Filipino) eloquently summarizes the situation as follows:
‘The
World Bank wants an educational system that will meet the manpower needs of
the transnationals; that will facilitate the growth of agri-business
production for the global market and that will ensure the
internationalization of the entire student population of values and outlooks
supportive of the global capitalist system.’
Within
the University of the Philippines System, this is nowhere demonstrated more
clearly than in the case of the U.P. at Los Banos.
UPLB: A Classic Case of Imperialist
Intrusion in U.P. Education
The U.P.
in Los Banos as an autonomous unit clearly exemplifies the extent with which
the state and its foreign sponsors have dictated upon the academe its
priorities. It is the best example of how academic freedom has been
subjugated by ‘national development goals’.
At the
same time, its history is a classic case of how imperialist funding
institutions such as the World Bank can manipulate the University’s
directions to serve their purposes.
Since the
early 1960s, UPLB has been a regular recipient of foreign loans, but the
entry of such capital intensified only after 1972. Since then, it has become
a staunch instrument of American neocolonialist approaches to ‘development’.
Not only
did partnership with American institutions such as Ford and Rockefeller
Foundations, and the multinational World Bank imprison the capabilities of
the academic community at UPLB with regards to their critical and liberative
potentials; under such relationships of dependence, UPLB undertook
researches, inventions, scientific discoveries which actually answered the
needs of foreign capital.
Multinationals controlling the pesticide and fertilizer industries have
enjoyed a heyday exploiting the efforts of UPLB scientists.
The World
Bank has determined UPLB’s direction to be that of playing a supportive role
in the bank’s concept of rural development. As outlined by former World Bank
President McNamara himself, this strategy calls for efforts aimed at
creating small capitalist producers in the countrysides, to preempt a
Vietnam-type liberation movement. This new stratum of petty ‘kulaks’ can
serve as a cushion to absorb and diffuse pressure from the masses of
tenant-farmers, landless peasants, and rural workers.
The
‘trickle-down’ approach obviously aims to let off some steam from the
boiling unrest in the countryside. To ameliorate poverty, the World Bank
approach proposes to increase the access of small landlords to critical
technological and economic inputs (packaged as Masagana 99, Masagana Maisan,
Biyayang Dagat). Though such programs were clearly failures, they could
boast of successfully hooking thousands of tenant-farmers into a supposedly
more productive and clearly more extensive rice-growing technology.
To date,
UPLB continues to work for whoever can afford to finance its programs,
researches and other services. Even local foundations (such as the Marcos
Foundation), finance researches on technologies which in the future the
donors logically intend to control and profit from.
Like the
rest of the U.P. units, UPLB is helplessly tied to the national government.
Most of the time, it is coordinating, counseling or even promoting
government programs. It is not only because, like the rest of the U.P., it
produces a number of technocrats for the bureaucracy. More significantly,
its academic structure and orientation has made it forever dependent on the
government and foreign agencies in order to survive financially. This places
the University entirely at their mercy: anytime they wish to they can
interfere in its priorities by outrightly withholding funds or arbitrarily
disapproving project proposals.
All this
is of course lamentable. For as a clearly capable center of science in the
country, the University has undoubtedly liberative potentials to work for
science that will genuinely serve the people. The case of UPLB, however,
illustrates clearly the impotence of ‘academic freedom’ in the present
set-up.
The Dynamics of Academic Subservience: A
Summary
The ten
years from 1972 to 1982 in the U.P. can be characterized as a period of
regressive transformation within the environment of academic repression.
There was intensified entry of foreign funds and closer ties with the
national government, as well as with multinational corporations and the
local comprador class.
The
condition for this regression was the stifling of dissent. Sterility and
subservience characterized the last years of the liberal President Salvador
P. Lopez, as Malacanang virtually ran the University with stringent
guidelines and letters of instructions in the name of the ‘new society’.
The
administration of the Harvard-trained, Onofre D. Corpus in 1974 eradicated
whatever vestige of academic freedom remained in the University. Corpus, it
can be recalled, was a major adviser of the Marcos regime during the early
days of martial rule. Under his supervision, the U.P. became the brain-trust
of the ‘new society’.
Within
the framework of regime priorities, namely ‘agricultural and industrial
development’, Corpus launched projects such as the Asian Institute of
Tourism (AIT). A new administrative structure, the University Research
Council, formulated a general research strategy for the whole University. A
technical evaluation group was also organized to serve as a single body for
the screening of research proposals within the framework of the approved
research programs supportive of the regime-defined national goals. A program
development staff formulated the overall directions and thrusts of the
University community.
The
University became an ideological partner for the US-backed Marcos regime.
This reached full fruition under O.D. Corpuz. His departure from the U.P.
presidency to assume command of the Ministry of Education and Culture in
1979, however, did not at all create shifts in the University’s direction.
The
subservience of the University to imperialism and bureaucrat-capitalism
seemed so secure that Malacanang entrusted to former Vice President Emmanuel
Soriano the U.P. presidency. Nothing remarkable can be said of the obedient
Soriano’s term. Soriano occupied the presidency until the regime could
replace him with a more reliable worthy representative of the local
comprador bourgeoisie. This representative was Edgardo J. Angara.