In Latin, the phrase means Freedom and Tears. It is not Freedom from Tears, but simply Freedom and Tears — a combination, not an assurance.
As we mark another Araw ng Kalayaan this June 12, 2026, the recent chaotic events in the Senate and the untimely deaths of two basketball athletes — not yet at their peak but brimming with immense potential — have created tremendous sadness in my heart.
The sadness comes from knowing that in the Senate, where wisdom and integrity should flourish, we have instead witnessed gutter-level political maneuverings. Freedom, it seems, is often tainted by ambition and self-interest. And in tears, we mourn the passing of the athletes — tears for their wasted potential, sorrow for their early demise, and grief for the dreams that will never be realized.
But perhaps this is the essence of Libertas et lacrymae: freedom is inseparable from suffering, and tears are the price of liberty. To be free is to be vulnerable — vulnerable to the failures of our leaders, vulnerable to the fragility of life, vulnerable to the uncertainty of tomorrow. Freedom is not a shield against sorrow; it is the condition that allows us to face sorrow with dignity.
Philosophers remind us that freedom is not merely the absence of chains but the presence of responsibility. It is the burden of choice, the weight of conscience, the courage to act even when the outcome is uncertain. Tears, then, are not contradictions to freedom but companions of it. They remind us that liberty is lived by mortal beings, whose bodies break, whose ambitions falter, whose lives end.
The athletes who passed away embody this paradox: their freedom to play, to strive, to inspire was cut short by mortality. Yet in their absence, we are reminded that freedom is precious precisely because it is finite. The Senate’s chaos, too, is a reminder that liberty is fragile, always threatened by corruption and ego, yet always worth defending.
Thus, Automatic for the People becomes more than a phrase — it is a meditation on the human condition. Freedom is automatic only in the sense that it belongs to all; but its preservation requires vigilance, sacrifice, and yes, tears. To live in freedom is to accept that joy and grief walk hand in hand, that independence is never pure but always mixed with loss.
On this Independence Day, let us embrace both liberty and sorrow. For only by acknowledging our tears can we truly honor our freedom. And only by carrying both can we hope to build a nation that is not merely free, but profoundly human.
