to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy… and to laugh along the way
Fifteen years earlier, during EDSA I, I had been a part of the military contingent that was sent to effect the turnover of Malacanang. This time, in 2001, I was going back for essentially the same purpose – but under an entirely different set of circumstances.
The next Asian Games should not be another four-year wait followed by another medal count. It should be the result of four years of deliberate work. The medals we win in the next Asian Games will be determined, in large measure, by what we do with the athletes we have today – and by the urgency we demonstrate in dealing with it.
We must all unite – citizens, local community leaders, government officials, engineers, scientists and subject matter experts – behind a single mission to keep people safe. Let us honor the thousands of lives cut short not with empty promises, but by learning from these brutal lessons. We must act now, together, to build a shield strong enough to safeguard the families of our brothers in the highlands of Nepal and Tibet, and ensure that such a tragedy never silences those valleys once again.
It is not enough that we know how to wage war. We must never forget that the ultimate purpose of war is to achieve peace. And for that peace to endure, we must also learn how to build and nurture it.
Buldon taught me that peace is not always won by defeating an enemy. Sometimes, peace begins when you give people enough reason to stop being enemies in the first place. Winning the war, I learned, is not always what matters. What matters more is winning the peace.
Many questions were seeking to be answered: Could the memory of years of fighting simply be erased? Could we bury the suspicion between Christians and Muslims? How do I deal with the prejudice among my veteran soldiers – or the fears of the former rebels? Could we be certain of their loyalty? And, perhaps most difficult of all, how could we erase the invisible, yet almost tangible divide between “them” and “us”? Ultimately, the question was simple: How does one welcome a man who may once have been shooting at soldiers like us – and now ask him to become our brother-in-arms?
