The Reign of Greed
“At last,” resumed Makaraig, “they were going to pigeonhole the
petition and let it sleep for months and months, when Padre Irene
remembered the Superior Commission of Primary Instruction and proposed,
since the matter concerned the teaching of the Castilian tongue, that
the petition be referred to that body for a report upon it.”
“But that Commission hasn’t been in operation for a long time,”
observed Pecson.
“That’s exactly what they replied to Padre Irene, and he answered that
this was a good opportunity to revive it, and availing himself of the
presence of Don Custodio, one of its members, he proposed on the spot
that a committee should be appointed. Don Custodio’s activity being
known and recognized, he was named as arbiter and the petition is now
in his hands. He promised that he would settle it this month.”
“Hurrah for Don Custodio!”
“But suppose Don Custodio should report unfavorably upon it?” inquired
the pessimist Pecson.
Upon this they had not reckoned, being intoxicated with the thought
that the matter would not be pigeonholed, so they all turned to
Makaraig to learn how it could be arranged.
“The same objection I presented to Padre Irene, but with his sly smile
he said to me: ‘We’ve won a great deal, we have succeeded in getting
the matter on the road to a decision, the opposition sees itself forced
to join battle.’ If we can bring some influence to bear upon Don
Custodio so that he, in accordance with his liberal tendencies, may
report favorably, all is won, for the General showed himself to be
absolutely neutral.”
Makaraig paused, and an impatient listener asked, “How can we influence
him?”
“Padre Irene pointed out to me two ways—”
“Quiroga,” some one suggested.
“Pshaw, great use Quiroga—”
“A fine present.”
“No, that won’t do, for he prides himself upon being incorruptible.”
“Ah, yes, I know!” exclaimed Pecson with a laugh. “Pepay the dancing
girl.”
“Ah, yes, Pepay the dancing girl,” echoed several.
This Pepay was a showy girl, supposed to be a great friend of Don
Custodio. To her resorted the contractors, the employees, the
intriguers, when they wanted to get something from the celebrated
councilor. Juanito Pelaez, who was also a great friend of the dancing
girl, offered to look after the matter, but Isagani shook his head,
saying that it was sufficient that they had made use of Padre Irene and
that it would be going too far to avail themselves of Pepay in such an
affair.
“Show us the other way.”
“The other way is to apply to his attorney and adviser, Señor Pasta,
the oracle before whom Don Custodio bows.”
“I prefer that,” said Isagani. “Señor Pasta is a Filipino, and was a
schoolmate of my uncle’s. But how can we interest him?”
“There’s the quid,” replied Makaraig, looking earnestly at Isagani.
“Señor Pasta has a dancing girl—I mean, a seamstress.”
Isagani again shook his head.
“Don’t be such a puritan,” Juanito Pelaez said to him. “The end
justifies the means! I know the seamstress, Matea, for she has a shop
where a lot of girls work.”
“No, gentlemen,” declared Isagani, “let’s first employ decent methods.
I’ll go to Señor Pasta and, if I don’t accomplish anything, then you
can do what you wish with the dancing girls and seamstresses.”
They had to accept this proposition, agreeing that Isagani should talk
to Señor Pasta that very day, and in the afternoon report to his
associates at the University the result of the interview.
CHAPTER XV
SEÑOR PASTA
Isagani presented himself in the house of the lawyer, one of the most
talented minds in Manila, whom the friars consulted in their great
difficulties. The youth had to wait some time on account of the
numerous clients, but at last his turn came and he entered the office,
or bufete, as it is generally called in the Philippines. The lawyer
received him with a slight cough, looking down furtively at his feet,
but he did not rise or offer a seat, as he went on writing. This gave
Isagani an opportunity for observation and careful study of the lawyer,
who had aged greatly. His hair was gray and his baldness extended over
nearly the whole crown of his head. His countenance was sour and
austere.
There was complete silence in the study, except for the whispers of the
clerks and understudies who were at work in an adjoining room. Their
pens scratched as though quarreling with the paper.
At length the lawyer finished what he was writing, laid down his pen,
raised his head, and, recognizing the youth, let his face light up with
a smile as he extended his hand affectionately.
“Welcome, young man! But sit down, and excuse me, for I didn’t know
that it was you. How is your uncle?”
Isagani took courage, believing that his case would get on well. He
related briefly what had been done, the while studying the effect of
his words. Señor Pasta listened impassively at first and, although he
was informed of the efforts of the students, pretended ignorance, as if
to show that he had nothing to do with such childish matters, but when
he began to suspect what was wanted of him and heard mention of the
Vice-Rector, friars, the Captain-General, a project, and so on, his
face slowly darkened and he finally exclaimed, “This is the land of
projects! But go on, go on!”
Isagani was not yet discouraged. He spoke of the manner in which a
decision was to be reached and concluded with an expression of the
confidence which the young men entertained that he, Señor Pasta, would
intercede in their behalf in case Don Custodio should consult him, as
was to be expected. He did not dare to say would advise, deterred by
the wry face the lawyer put on.
But Señor Pasta had already formed his resolution, and it was not to
mix at all in the affair, either as consulter or consulted. He was
familiar with what had occurred at Los Baños, he knew that there
existed two factions, and that Padre Irene was not the only champion on
the side of the students, nor had he been the one who proposed
submitting the petition to the Commission of Primary Instruction, but
quite the contrary. Padre Irene, Padre Fernandez, the Countess, a
merchant who expected to sell the materials for the new academy, and
the high official who had been citing royal decree after royal decree,
were about to triumph, when Padre Sibyla, wishing to gain time, had
thought of the Commission. All these facts the great lawyer had present
in his mind, so that when Isagani had finished speaking, he determined
to confuse him with evasions, tangle the matter up, and lead the
conversation to other subjects.
“Yes,” he said, pursing his lips and scratching his head, “there is no
one who surpasses me in love for the country and in aspirations toward
progress, but—I can’t compromise myself, I don’t know whether you
clearly understand my position, a position that is very delicate, I
have so many interests, I have to labor within the limits of strict
prudence, it’s a risk—”
The lawyer sought to bewilder the youth with an exuberance of words, so
he went on speaking of laws and decrees, and talked so much that
instead of confusing the youth, he came very near to entangling himself
in a labyrinth of citations.
“In no way do we wish to compromise you,” replied Isagani with great
calmness. “God deliver us from injuring in the least the persons whose
lives are so useful to the rest of the Filipinos! But, as little versed
as I may be in the laws, royal decrees, writs, and resolutions that
obtain in this country, I can’t believe that there can be any harm in
furthering the high purposes of the government, in trying to secure a
proper interpretation of these purposes. We are seeking the same end
and differ only about the means.”
The lawyer smiled, for the youth had allowed himself to wander away
from the subject, and there where the former was going to entangle him
he had already entangled himself.
“That’s exactly the quid, as is vulgarly said. It’s clear that it is
laudable to aid the government, when one aids it submissively,
following out its desires and the true spirit of the laws in agreement
with the just beliefs of the governing powers, and when not in
contradiction to the fundamental and general way of thinking of the
persons to whom is intrusted the common welfare of the individuals that
form a social organism. Therefore, it is criminal, it is punishable,
because it is offensive to the high principle of authority, to attempt
any action contrary to its initiative, even supposing it to be better
than the governmental proposition, because such action would injure its
prestige, which is the elementary basis upon which all colonial
edifices rest.”
Confident that this broadside had at least stunned Isagani, the old
lawyer fell back in his armchair, outwardly very serious, but laughing
to himself.
Isagani, however, ventured to reply. “I should think that governments,
the more they are threatened, would be all the more careful to seek
bases that are impregnable. The basis of prestige for colonial
governments is the weakest of all, since it does not depend upon
themselves but upon the consent of the governed, while the latter are
willing to recognize it. The basis of justice or reason would seem to
be the most durable.”
The lawyer raised his head. How was this—did that youth dare to reply
and argue with him, him, Señor Pasta? Was he not yet bewildered with
his big words?
“Young man, you must put those considerations aside, for they are
dangerous,” he declared with a wave of his hand. “What I advise is that
you let the government attend to its own business.”
“Governments are established for the welfare of the peoples, and in
order to accomplish this purpose properly they have to follow the
suggestions of the citizens, who are the ones best qualified to
understand their own needs.”
“Those who constitute the government are also citizens, and among the
most enlightened.”
“But, being men, they are fallible, and ought not to disregard the
opinions of others.”
“They must be trusted, they have to attend to everything.”
“There is a Spanish proverb which says, ‘No tears, no milk,’ in other
words, ‘To him who does not ask, nothing is given.’ ”
“Quite the reverse,” replied the lawyer with a sarcastic smile; “with
the government exactly the reverse occurs—”
But he suddenly checked himself, as if he had said too much and wished
to correct his imprudence. “The government has given us things that we
have not asked for, and that we could not ask for, because to ask—to
ask, presupposes that it is in some way incompetent and consequently is
not performing its functions. To suggest to it a course of action, to
try to guide it, when not really antagonizing it, is to presuppose that
it is capable of erring, and as I have already said to you such
suppositions are menaces to the existence of colonial governments. The
common crowd overlooks this and the young men who set to work
thoughtlessly do not know, do not comprehend, do not try to comprehend
the counter-effect of asking, the menace to order there is in that
idea—”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Isagani, offended by the arguments the jurist
was using with him, “but when by legal methods people ask a government
for something, it is because they think it good and disposed to grant a
blessing, and such action, instead of irritating it, should flatter it
—to the mother one appeals, never to the stepmother. The government, in
my humble opinion, is not an omniscient being that can see and
anticipate everything, and even if it could, it ought not to feel
offended, for here you have the church itself doing nothing but asking
and begging of God, who sees and knows everything, and you yourself ask
and demand many things in the courts of this same government, yet