INTERIOR Secretary Jonvic Remulla made an amusing announcement recently that all disorderly acts, such as drinking sprees and gambling on the street, walking shirtless, and minors violating nighttime curfews, shall be prohibited by the Philippine National Police and village watchmen under pain of punishment. His directive was met with sarcasm and brickbats in the wake of more pressing issues confronting the country today, such as surging fuel prices and economic uncertainties arising from the war in the Middle East.
With an open mind, I looked at Secretary Remulla’s directive through the lens of sound public administration. In a looming state of societal breakdown, the state must preserve its legitimacy and authority by upholding the rule of law. It often starts with the smallest, most mundane matters that, taken together, make a big difference. A society that is about to slide into chaos is first revealed in the most inconsequential forms: people refusing to pay their fuel purchases at gasoline stations, road rage, students not attending classes, or public transport drivers and operators withholding their services. These are not isolated incidents, but telltale signs of a deeper disruption in society’s normal and peaceful motion, with the entire machinery at risk of breaking down.
In such moments, the little things that ensure civility and discipline become crucial in holding together the fragile threads of our Philippine society. When ordinary Filipinos openly violate city ordinances — drinking liquor on the street or singing karaoke obnoxiously in the wee hours — the state is left with no other option but to strictly enforce laws. Otherwise, there is a domino effect of disorderly conduct that surfaces in the daily lives of citizens and gradually erodes public order.
In the 1970s, New York City was beset by crime, urban decay, garbage and unemployment brought about by stagflation. Investors were hesitant in putting their money into its prime properties, while public schools were plagued by illegal drugs, gangs and delinquency. If you walk along its streets, you either get solicited by prostitutes or mugged by thieves. Hapless women were sexually assaulted while jogging in Central Park. Shootings were becoming a daily occurrence. New York City, thus, gained the reputation as the world’s worst city to live in, like a dystopian world one wants to escape from.
By the 1990s, Rudy Giuliani was elected mayor and began cleaning house in New York City. He started his anti-crime campaign by simply dealing with and addressing the simple things — protecting people taking the subways, arresting petty criminals, collecting garbage diligently, and removing vagrants and prostitutes from the streets. These resulted in a resurgence of confidence in the city, with investors coming back to build hotels, commercial establishments and other infrastructure. By the 2000s, New York City regained its status as a global and tourist-friendly city.
Now, Secretary Remulla may appear disconnected or even petty in issuing such a directive, but common sense dictates that big things often start small. Restoring public order and discipline is the foundation of a modern, safe and sustainable society. Filipinos are, in truth, fed up with the chaos and everyday eyesores on our streets. There is a sense of frustration and anxiety settling in our neighborhoods, and someone must take the difficult step of whipping things up to make our cities more livable again.
Hopefully, his initiative is not merely a political strategy for higher office, but an honest-to-goodness program to remake our cities into spaces that are more conducive, orderly and safe for people, tourists and investors.
If Secretary Remulla succeeds, then he might be rewarded appropriately by the Filipino people in 2028.