Friday, December 28, 2007

Remembering Adrian Cristobal (Feb. 20, 1932 –Dec. 22, 2007)

I was attending an international conference in New York in mid-November when I first got Adrian’s text message, saying he was checking into the Makati Medical Center. He gave no details. I texted back to say I was out of the country, but expressed confidence it was nothing serious, and that he should be back on his feet by the time I got back.

I got back last part of November. He was still in hospital, so I tried to see him at once. Unfortunately, it was the 29th of November when the Manila Peninsula standoff made Makati inhospitable. I finally got to see him the next Thursday, before coming to Myther Bunag’s Thursday Club in Malate where we had tried to lunch regularly every week for years with friends.

He lay stretched in bed, with all the tube attachments that proclaimed his delicate condition. But surrounded by his loved ones, his wife Teching, his daughter Stella, his son Che, and a sprinkling of grandchildren, he was calm, clear-headed and sharp, with no hint of the irony that charged his prose and his social and literary conversation.

He welcomed me with a bright, warm smile, called me “my friend, my brother,” as I came to his bedside and touched his hand. Teching filled me in on his ailments---his lung cancer was on stage 4, his liver was going, but he couldn’t get any chemo treatment because of his kidneys, for which he was getting dialysis three times a week; he needed food for nourishment and strength, but his diabetes restricted his diet.

Adrian showed more concern for friends who, he heard, had checked in at the hospital. Larry Cruz, who had undergone an operation, and Max Edralin, who had some minor complaint. He was glad to hear they had both gone home. Although his doctors were obviously trying to limit the flow of visitors, Adrian was so happy to see his old writer-friends. He spoke of Frankie Sionil Jose, Elmer Ordonez, Virgilio Almario and others visiting, and asking him to join, if he could, the 50th anniversary of the Philippine Chapter of PEN (Poets, Essayists and Novelists) International that weekend.

He asked about my book (in progress) and smiled when I said it should be done by Spring and that he should be able to critique it before it goes to the publishers. I tried to perk him up (distract him really) with some small talk about Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera having been made into a big film. I assumed he had read the book, having had to deliver the Cervantes lecture on Marquez at the Instituto de Cervantes first week of September. In that lecture, which he called a talk, he focused on the magical realism of One Hundred Years of Solitude, which Pablo Neruda, Latin America’s greatest poet of the last century, has described as “the greatest revelation in the Spanish language since Don Quixote of Cervantes.”

Adrian obviously enjoyed that lecture. Using Marquez’s words in his 1982 Nobel Prize address, Adrian reaffirmed his conviction as a writer, and reestablished his position among his peers. Where Marquez spoke of “a new and sweeping utopia of life, where one will not be able to decide for others how to die, where love will prove true and happiness possible, and where the races condemned to one hundred years of solitude will have, at last and forever, a second opportunity on earth,” Adrian spoke of “our lust for life, our sublime sense of beauty (which) will now and forever resist the beast of terror within us.”

The smile never left his face. But he obviously saw through my silly attempt to distract him from more essential things. He was beyond small talk now; he had an important thing to say, and he said it with the joy and triumph of someone who had found something he had long been looking for. “I have discovered religion,” he finally said, and asked Teching to show me a small book on miracles, which a friend had gifted him. He asked me what I thought of it, so I leafed through it and told him it’s highly inspirational. I then gave him another small book, Friends of God by St. Josemaria Escriva, which was a bit more doctrinal.

After about an hour, I left. He had already dozed off, and Teching and Stella had begun talking about asking the doctors when they could bring him home. At the Thursday Club everyone was anxious to hear about Adrian. Two weeks later, Larry Cruz hosted lunch at his Abe restaurant at Trinoma for some of Adrian’s old friends. Johnny Gatbonton, Ronnie Diaz, Fred de la Rosa, Rene Bas, Yen Makabenta, Blas Ople’s daughter Toots, Larry and I had a grand time recalling the past; we drank a warm and hearty toast to our absent friend.

On the morning of Saturday, 22 of December, after receiving the last sacraments, Adrian passed away. It was a beautiful death: he died in the state of grace, fully reconciled to Christ, after living his life to the full.

I first met Adrian Cristobal in 1969, after I entered the Marcos Cabinet at age 29. He was one of the original bright boys of Ferdinand Marcos, working with Labor Secretary Blas Ople’s writing group at Medis building in Intramuros. This was known as the Medis Group. It included some of the finest craftsmen around (Ronnie Diaz, Fred de la Rosa, Bernardo Ople, Larry Cruz, Rene Bas, Florentino Dauz, Yen Makabenta, Malang). Adrian seemed to occupy a space all his own. Dauz, poet, painter and friend of happy memory, loved to call him “Cristo” or “Maestro.”

It was a time when one could still breathe intellectual excellence in the air, and to win recognition an aspiring young man must venture into the public square dominated by men of political substance--- Marcos, Diosdado Macapagal, Arturo Tolentino, Lorenzo Tanada, Cipriano Primicias, Gil Puyat, Jose Diokno, Francisco “Soc” Rodrigo, Lorenzo Sumulong, Benigno Aquino, Jr., Gerardo Roxas, Jose B. Laurel, Jr.. Vicente Peralta, among others; men of moral rectitude and literary acclaim---Horacio de la Costa, S. J., Salvador P. Lopez, Leon Ma. Guerrero, Carlos P. Romulo, Narciso Reyes, I. P. Soliongco, Quijano de Manila, Pura Santillan Castrence, Emilio Aguilar Cruz, Teodoro Locsin, Kerima Polotan Tuvera, Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, Alejandro Roces, Renato Constantino, J. V. Cruz, among others.

By then Adrian had already made his name as author of I, Sulayman, The Trial of Andres Bonifacio, The Largest Crocodile in the World, some award-winning editorials on the killing of some negritos by some American soldiers on the American base in Clark and Subic, and a spate of satirical columns which not all his readers read as satire. As member of the Medis group, he was one of the intellectuals burrowed inside the Marcos camp.

Marcos had just been reelected President of the Philippines, the first and only President to have been so reelected in the nation’s history. The most important business of the day then was to prepare the President’s inaugural address. Several drafts had landed at the President’s desk; Marcos had gone over all the drafts, and ended picking out two from which he crafted his final text. One was Adrian’s, the other was mine. This marked our first close intellectual contact.

For the whole length of Marcos I, the Medis Group had been in charge of the President’s speeches. After the President’s reelection, the responsibility shifted to my office. I had to organize a writing staff with Yen Makabenta as principal workhorse, and we performed the job for the entire ten years of my Cabinet life. Adrian was not part of this team. But whether as chairman of the Social Security Commission or as head of the Presidential Center for Advanced Studies he flooded the President with memos and position papers, much of which went into his public statements.

Everyone admired Adrian’s political sophistication and intellectual reach, but I felt they were not being given enough space. I felt he could do so much more, so I introduced to the President the idea of putting down his political ideas in a book, and asking Adrian to collaborate. Marcos was delighted with the proposal and put Adrian in charge of the project. The result was Marcos’s Today’s Revolution: Democracy, and Notes on the New Society, which made many Asian leaders look to Marcos as a serious political thinker.

Upon the proclamation of martial law in 1972, Marcos created the Department of Public Information. He made me its head, in addition to my being press secretary, presidential spokesman, (and presidential speechwriter, a position nobody talks about.) Larry Cruz was my assistant Press Secretary but I had no Department Undersecretary and no Deputy Presidential Spokesman either. My workload did not allow me to get sick or go out of town even on weekends. But at one time, I needed to go to India to make a statement on martial law at an important Asian conference. As I could not go without someone acting as presidential spokesman and information chief in my place, I asked the President to ask Adrian to fill in. It was not the best favor one expected from a friend, but Adrian gamely accepted, and endured the ordeal for a week. We had a good laugh later when I learned that he had to have his blood pressure checked, after a week-long honeymoon with the Malacanang press.

Adrian lived his life to the full as a public intellectual. The public will remember and judge him as such. He did not suffer fools gladly, he gave no false comfort to his friends, but neither did he shrink nor shake before powerful adversaries. He took risks where others simply sat on the fence, but he drew a line between signature and service. However, history is always written and often rewritten by the victors; so for sometime yet he will be assessed according to how the living victors look at the Marcos years.

He will be judged not by those who are morally or intellectually equipped to render judgment, but by those who are in power and are in a position to judge because they claim to have fought or opposed Marcos, even though they may never have been more virtuous than he. The more honest observer, however, will have no difficulty conceding the courage of his conviction when it was not the easiest or most popular thing to show such courage even among those who now proclaim it to the skies.

The entire world paradigm shifted after the Berlin Wall came down and the Soviet empire collapsed in 1989. But it was an altogether different world in 1972. At that time, the communist rebellion made martial law unquestionably necessary, and the 1935 Constitution made it possible. It took men of courage and intellectual rectitude to accept the risk of becoming part of that extraordinary solution to that extraordinary problem. Adrian was one of those.

That martial law chilled many journalists and men of letters, there was no doubt. That abuses were committed by all sorts of people in the name of martial law, there also was no doubt. But a violent storm was raging across the entire Southeast Asian region, not just the country, and it was the task of men like Adrian, and ours, too, to find little crevices on the rock surface where kindred spirits could seek refuge while the storm blew. Adrian made PCAS a home for many writers whose politics was certain to attract the attention of the military, just as I made the DPI, its Bureau of National and Foreign Information, Bureau of Mass Media Standards, and Bureau of Broadcast a sanctuary for non-conformists who had lost their media outlets and had nowhere else to go.

If, as suggested by some Adrian had kept a journal through the years, there should be some entries on how he helped argue for the early lifting of censorship, the reopening of the media and the release of newspapermen from political detention. He was first and last a writer who believed that freedom is indivisible, and that only by insisting on everyone’s freedom does one become truly free.

Although he tried to affect a stern autocratic appearance in public, Adrian had a heart of marshmallow, when it concerned his artist friends. One such friend was Jose Garcia Villa. Villa, now dead, had been living in New York as a famous Greenwich village poet, supported by a sinecure at the Philippine Mission to the United Nations. He had come to Manila at the e First Lady’s invitation, along with other international artists like the Russian poet Yvgeni Yevtushenko.

Upon Adrian’s advice, Villa had come to me to course his request to the President for an upgrade in his appointment. I promptly forwarded this to the President. Several days later, Villa was at Malacanang to attend a dinner in honor of Yevtushenko. He was at his acerbic best. “How could you think of honoring a Russian poet when you have not even honored your own?” he said to me. Then a young protégé of Villa’s went up to Yevtushenko to ask him, “who are you?” As Marcos walked into the reception hall, Villa came up to him and said, “if the government had been a little more intelligent, you would have made me Ambassador a long time ago.” Whereupon, the President said to me, “Kits, you will take care of this.”

This instantly quieted Villa. But I knew what that statement, and the body language meant. Afterward, I would get a daily call from Jose---that’s how Adrian and I called him—and all I could say was that I was waiting for final word from the President. Exasperated, Villa finally dealt me the ultimate blow: “I once called you an angel of a man, I was wrong. In a few years, you will be like Carlos P. Romulo.” Romulo was the Foreign Secretary then, and Villa’s opinion of him was undeservedly low.

I did not know how to pacify Villa. Adrian had to do it, while making sure Villa kept his post, despite his misbehavior at the Palace.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

God is alive and well, thank you

In the last half of the 19th century, the German philosopher Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzche famously declared, “God is dead.” Not so, it turned out. By 1900, Nietzche, not God, was dead. Still, the 20th century tried to sustain his vision of the Ubermensch (superman) by doing everything to banish God and the love of God from public view, especially in the First World. The result was what the Catholic convert and brilliant editor of First Things, Rev. Richard John Neuhaus, has called, in his book of the same title, the “Naked Public Square.”

Nowhere was this more evident than in the United States, a country built under a “sacred canopy,” to borrow Peter Berger’s phrase, and where more than one hundred years ago Alexis de Tocqueville, in his classic Democracy in America, saw religion as “the first political institution.” There, public prayer was banned in schools and other public institutions on constitutional grounds and suddenly it was no longer politically correct for one to be seen praying in public. The Europeans for their part decided that having to acknowledge their Christian roots in the European Constitution would run counter to the secular vision of Europe.

As that most violent of all centuries ended, many felt the movement against God had finally succeeded. Much of the Christian world had been dechristianized and paganized; the consumerist market had won, and materialism had become the dominant way of life after the collapse of the Soviet empire, and atheistic and materialistic communism was formally declared to have lost. In its millennium issue, The Economist of London, one of the most influential secular magazines in the Western world, was bold enough to run an obituary of God. But again, as Mark Twain would have said, news of God’s death was grossly exaggerated.

Towards the end of 2007, the Economist admitted its mistake. In its Nov. 3, 2007 special review of religion and public life, the magazine reported that far from turning away from religion, more and more people had been turning to it in the last hundred years. From 1900 to 2005, the magazine noted, the number of people identified with the world’s four biggest religions----Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and Hinduism— had risen from 67 percent to 73 percent of world population. Evidently, the number of believers continues to rise. But so also the intensity of the ideological attack on God and religious belief. Gone are the great religious wars, but the war against religion itself has arrived. Science and technology has become the bearer of the New Age, proclaiming a way of life without God, or with God totally on the outside. With man now able to make another man (in test tubes), his relationship to himself has been fundamentally altered, so wrote Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI). Post-modern man now looks upon himself as “his own product --- no longer a gift of nature, or of the Creator God.”

It is a crisis ---a world crisis--- of man’s truth. Men and women no longer seem to know what and who they are –whether in relation to themselves or in relation to others, most especially the Wholly Other, God. Whereas Christianity, according to Sheed, produced a civilization that listened to God while looking at man, post-modernity simply shattered its ear drums. Albert Camus once wrote: “I wonder what the future will say of modern man. A single sentence will suffice: ‘he fornicated and read the papers’.” That dim view of postmodern man has apparently arrived. Filled with self-love, he seems, forsooth, to have left no space for anyone or anything else. T. S. Eliot looks into it more deeply in ‘Choruses from The Rock’:

The endless cycle of idea and action,
Endless invention, endless experiment,
Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness;
Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word.
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,
All our ignorance brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God.
Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycle of Heaven in twenty centuries
Brings us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.

Examine our social discourse, our politics, our economics, etc. We seem to have replaced the first principle of practical reason (synderesis) which bids man to do good and avoid evil, with the pleasure principle, the driving force behind the “sexual revolution” and in particular what Pope Benedict XVI calls the “dogma of hedonism,” which has sought to turn everything upside down. American sitcoms, soap operas and movies, observes the philosopher Peter Kreeft, never glorify murder or rape or stealing or even lying. But they never fail to glorify fornication, adultery, sodomy, abortion, etc. They tell you to control your drug addictions, and your gun addictions, and your smoking addictions and even your overeating addictions, but never your sex addictions, he writes. Everything has been or is being deconstructed with sex---marriage, family, culture, man himself.

You deconstruct when you try to show that certain universally held concepts are not truly universal after all. Nietzche invented this technique, but the French philosopher Jacques Derrida was its last acknowledged master until his death in 2004. In one interview with the French newspaper Le Monde, Derrida proposed that the word “marriage” be deleted from the French civil code to clear the juridical path for homosexual unions. That failed to take off, yet same-sex “marriage” is today performed in at least five countries; civil unions, domestic partnerships, common law contracts, pacts of common interests, civil pacts of solidarity, etc. grant to homosexual couples benefits akin to those associated with marriage in at least 23 countries, including parts of the United States. Within the United Nations system, the term “reproductive rights” has become the mantra that threatens to divinize the killing of millions of unborn children each year. So while Western activists denounce “genital mutilation” in some African tribes as barbaric, “fetal mutilation” – the mutilation of the fetus – has become the crowning glory of the legal system of at least 149 countries, and counting, starting with the near-mighty G-8.

That millions of unborn children are killed every year in the name of a false right and a false freedom cannot be an expression of man’s love even of himself. It is a desecration of man and his preeminent place in the natural order of created beings and things. But no monstrous crime can ever turn God against man. God has not revoked his promise to Abraham in the Book of Genesis, that if there be but ten righteous men in Sodom, “I will not destroy it” (Gen 18:32); in the fullness of time, the Father sent His only begotten Son to redeem the whole of mankind from sin. Thus, Benedict XVI assures us in his first encyclical that Deus Caritas Est (God is Love), and again, in his second one, Spe salvi facti sumus (In hope we were saved), that we have a “God who has loved us and who continues to love us ‘to the end,’ until all ‘is accomplished’.” And that, “if we are in relation with him who does not die, who is Life itself and Love itself, then we are in life. Then we ‘live’.”

There are no seasonal truths. Every moment is an opportune time for fallen and redeemed man to see how he has lived the Love of Christ, the only Love that, in Dante’s words, “moves the Sun and the other stars.” The world has tried to bury this Love in endless ways that put the pleasure of the senses above everything else. This is not, and cannot be for those who listen attentively to the voice of reason, even though they may not yet know Christ. Unaided by anything supernatural, they can see by the use of natural reason alone that the dogma of hedonism contradicts the very reason for their earthly existence; man is not a mere mound of clay molded and plugged into an energy field built by science, nor a coming together of various sensual appetites; he is body and soul fused together by the breath of God, and ordered to an end higher than himself. Moved by faith, hope, and charity, the individual Christian will see beyond natural reason’s ability to see, and he will see himself as an imperfect being capable of being perfected only by the grace of God. His real life is in God; he dies forever outside of the living God.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The next move is Erap's

Some light is finally being shed on Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV’s Nov. 29 caper at the Manila Peninsula hotel, which confirms some of our worst fears. The whole affair was clearly based on a completely wishful view of the balance and behavior of forces on the ground, and the main actor’s even more wishful view of his native strength.

The adventure appears to have been not wholly spontaneous. It appears to have had some “planning,” but if in chess, it was a startling opening without anything else, a Plan A without a Plan B, which has characterized all of the failed moves against President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo ever since.

The Trillanes group had apparently calculated (hoped) that a crowd would naturally build up and join the former Navy lieutenant from the 2003 Oakwood incident as he walked the distance from the Makati courthouse to the five-star hotel. But while his route crossed and followed streets heavy with vehicular traffic, no pride or passion of partisans lined the sidewalks waiting to march.

It now appears that while the group saw their hero as a Pied Piper who would charm the crowds as he piped along, they had made it quite plain that other groups were welcome so long as they were not identified with former President Joseph Ejercito Estrada (Erap).

They forgot that without someone they truly identify with, crowds that could end up at the mercy of water cannons, police truncheons and tear gas will not sprout from the ground like mushrooms; they have to be organized, even rented, to be precise.

At the time, Erap was out on a medical mission in one of Quezon City’s poorest communities. He was in no position and had no chance to respond to the Trillanes media event, precisely because he and his supporters were specifically excluded a priori, by name, from taking part in the effort to confront Mrs. Arroyo with a long bill of particulars that begins ironically with her 2001 takeover of the presidency from Erap.

The Trillanes group apparently fancied themselves above and distinct from the opposition that had consistently questioned Mrs. Arroyo’s right to, and conduct of, the presidency. They seemed determined to save the country from Mrs. Arroyo, from Estrada and from everybody else except themselves.

Asked by the media who would succeed Mrs. Arroyo if she was removed, Trillanes enigmatically answered, in Filipino, “the leadership that would emerge.” But someone identified on radio as belonging to the Kilusang Makabansang Ekonomiya (KME) said, “Chief Justice Reynato Puno.”

Puno’s name was never mentioned again, either during that extended live coverage or in subsequent published newspaper reports. Neither has his name come up in the running, post-standoff revelations of the other Puno, Interior Secretary Ronnie Puno. And not one word has been heard from the Chief Justice himself.

Will the Arroyo government allow this to simply vanish under the rug? Nobody knows.

The first time KME mentioned Puno heading a proposed caretaker junta was in late October. The newspapers carried the story without comment. They still did not comment when Puno decided to keep silent, but permitted (or obliged) the Supreme Court (SC) spokesman Jose Midas Marquez to react to the KME announcement.

In that statement, the spokesman said:

1. The Chief Justice had not spoken to any of the proponents but had only read about their proposal in the newspapers.

2. “The news reports, nevertheless, if accurate, are humbling, and the trust confided in Chief Justice Reynato S. Puno is appreciated.

3. “The Chief Justice, however, would rather stay out of politics and remain in the judiciary which he has committed to ensure its independence and strengthen its integrity.

4. “Chief Justice Puno would also like to appeal to everyone to keep the judiciary out of the present political turmoil --- the judiciary should always be above politics. Otherwise, it loses its authority as an effective and credible dispenser of laws and justice.”

Still no comment. Not a single member of the Integrated Bar, not a single justice, judge, radio or TV channel or civil society critic of the Arroyo government offered any comment. No senator or congressman threatened to investigate.

I found it necessary to point out, in my blog (, which the Tribune regularly reproduces, that:

1. The proposal of a junta headed by the Chief Justice was of such gravity that he should have personally issued his own statement, instead of letting a mere subordinate do it;

2. The SC spokesman can only speak for the Court on matters proper to it, not on issues personal to its members. The junta-proposal is strictly personal to Puno and therefore outside the spokesman’s official responsibility and competence;
3. Nobody ever suggested that Puno had ever met or talked with any of the proponents before they made their announcement. Why then did the spokesman have to point out that Puno had not talked to any of them? Was this not the kind of denial that merely confirms what is being denied?

4. As the primary guardian of the Constitution, the Chief Justice should have been outraged that his name was being associated with an extra-constitutional project. But no, he found the news reports “humbling,” and “the trust confided in (him) appreciated.” In short, he was thrilled.

5. There was not a word from Puno, his spokesman or any SC justice denouncing the junta-idea as outrageous for being unconstitutional, or Puno’s proposed place in it as absurd. I noted that KME was not asking Puno to head the proposed junta; rather the group was asking the public to support the idea of a junta headed by Puno;

6. Puno’s failure to denounce what he had a serious duty to denounce amounted to an expression of support for it. “Qui tacet consentire videtur, ubi tractatur de ejus commodo---He who is silent is considered as assenting, when his interest is at stake.”

That was in early November. The fresh mention of the Chief Justice’s name during the Manila Pen standoff makes the whole issue current. Will we finally hear from the Chief Justice? What is Malacanang’s official take on it?

It now seems clear that whatever it was Estrada and his supporters had been pursuing since 2001, it has now been taken over by an anti-Arroyo, anti-Estrada group. Erap and his supporters have been unceremoniously devoured. Yet, without the open support of the masses whom Estrada leads, no group could possibly succeed in forcing Mrs. Arroyo out.

Unpleasant as some may find it, no one in the protest movement --- and for that matter no one in the country today – has Estrada’s drawing power. Since he came out of his six-year detention, he has been mobbed by huge crowds whenever he went. The two other former presidents ---Cory Aquino and Fidel Ramos --- are not likely to create any stir inside a crowded sports stadium, shopping mall or busy street.

So, will the Trillanes group set aside its hubris, say sorry and reach out to Erap? Or will Erap now finally recognize that allowing all sorts of people to capitalize on his original cause in order to rail against Mrs. Arroyo while simultaneously rejecting and denouncing him as unworthy of their exalted company has been one very costly mistake? The next move is Erap’s.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Neither kid gloves nor mailed fist for Trillanes

The administration is in a pickle trying to decide how to handle Senator-detainee Antonio Trillanes IV. Using kid gloves is certainly out of the question, but a mailed fist could turn the former Navy first lieutenant into a full-blown underdog. Malacanang cannot possibly want this.

Arrested and detained after the 2003 failed Oakwood mutiny, Trillanes was mysteriously picked up by the “Genuine Opposition” as a senatorial candidate last May. With no reasonable hope or prospect of winning, or even campaigning, he ran on the lone promise of impeaching Mrs. Arroyo, after two failed attempts in the House of Representatives.

This was a serious misquote of a senator’s role, which is primarily to make laws and, on occasion, to sit as an impartial judge in a Senate impeachment trial after the House has impeached an impeachable official like the President. But the pro-opposition voters knew no better than the single-issue candidate; with an extra push from mostly young military officers, civil society and the Left, and at least one well-known perennial contributor to seasonal political campaigns, the candidate won.

The court then ruled that he may not attend the Senate sessions or committee hearings, nor use his place of detention to conduct official Senate business. Thus, a senator elected by the Filipino people is unable to exercise his rights and perform his duties because of a case where the complainant is also the Filipino people.

Some lawyers argue, off-court, that since his election came very much after his arrest, it supersedes the court’s decision to hold him without bail. Moreover, his election is deemed to have removed all risks of flight of the accused who is presumed to be innocent until proven otherwise. This, however, has not been put formally to the court.

On Nov. 29, he walked out of his trial in a Makati courtroom, and marched all the way to Manila Peninsula hotel, with Brig. Gen. Danny Lim in tow, and all the security men assigned to guard him. There he called for Mrs. Arroyo’s resignation to pave the way for a new transition government. He was arrested several hours later, and taken to Bicutan for a new round of processing. Since then his troubles have grown, and so have those of his jailers.

Administration Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago has proposed that Trillanes be stripped of his title as senator, and his jailers have threatened to transfer him from his cell in Camp Crame to the national penitentiary at Muntinglupa, there to lie in the company of common criminals.

Both threats are highly intimidating. But one does not have the same effect as the other. And the effects on Trillanes may not be as grave and damaging as those on the administration. Let us see how.

The expulsion proposal requires a process, pursuant to the Constitution and the Senate Rules of Procedure. Both documents allow a senator to be suspended or expelled from the Senate for disorderly behavior, upon a vote of two-thirds of all its members. This entails a debate on principles, a determination of the facts, and the final judgment of one’s peers.

As a matter of principle, the Committee on Ethics could first determine whether it is legally, morally and politically acceptable for an elected senator to call for the replacement of a sitting President by an extra-constitutional personality or structure. This is the core question.

There are two parts to this proposition. The first part refers to the call for Mrs. Arroyo’s resignation; the second part, to the proposal for an extra-constitutional replacement, which does away with the law on presidential succession.

Whatever the motive, there is nothing wrong in calling for a President’s (any President’s) resignation. Valid or not, it is part of the right to free expression. Mere political bias is enough to justify such call. For instance, from November 2000 to January 2001, at least eight senators called for President Joseph Ejercito Estrada’s resignation, while sitting as judges in his Senate impeachment trial. Nobody threatened them with disciplinary action; the anti-Estrada crowd held them up as some kind of icons, instead of censuring them for censurable court behavior.

But the second part of the proposition may not be so easily defensible. On this point Sen. Santiago and the other administration senators could go to town, and compel the committee to take a clear position on the principle. They will, however, need the concurrence of at least 16 senators to suspend or expel the offending senator. Does the administration have 16 senators? This is the decisive question.

Meanwhile, the court will have to allow Trillanes to appear before the committee to personally answer the charges against him. And once there, he could expatiate on all his grievances against the regime, and repeat to his heart’s content his call for Mrs. Arroyo’s resignation. That the administration is eager to take this risk is, at best, doubtful.

The proposed transfer to Bilibid Prison is something else. Stories about how young and good-looking prisoners are normally violated by hardened inmates who have virtual control of the prison life of everybody else are enough to make Lawrence of Arabia shiver. So, were Trillanes to be tossed inside Bilibid and violated by its resident sodomists or tortured by its self-appointed torturers, the administration could end up with a severe human rights scandal it doesn’t need at all.

The greater danger, however, lies in the possibility of Trillanes being welcomed by the inmates as one of their own. Despite his repeated failure from Oakwood to Peninsula hotel, some people think he is still eminently recyclable. One particular analyst seems to believe his latest failure has not diminished his luster. Many inmates tend to identify with the underdog and could have the same thinking. It is noted that prior to Erap’s pardon, about a hundred inmates were reported to have offered to divide the former President’s life sentence among themselves so that he would not have to serve at all. Of course Trillanes is not Estrada, but something similar could happen.

The administration’s dilemma is not an easy one. It could get impaled in the horns of the dilemma if it allows its desire for vengeance to guide its actions, instead of trying to act in the most just manner that would win the approval and support of the people. It was not too long ago that then Justice Abraham Sarmiento reminded the powers of the day that neither justice nor democratic governance is about “getting even;” it is worth pointing out that winning the people’s trust and one’s perceived enemy is always the more desirable option.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Can GMA escape the wrath of the press?

In taking over the Peninsula Hotel and demanding that President Gloria Arroyo finally step down last week, Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV must have hoped that somehow a few of the protest votes that had made him a senator last May (four years after he led the 2003 failed Oakwood mutiny) would incarnate around the hotel to protect him from the police, just as the EDSA I crowds protected the rebels in 1986.

Nothing like it happened. Instead of getting rid of Mrs. Arroyo, Trillanes merely disappointed many of his supporters, and probably put paid to whatever real plans the opposition might have had for Mrs. Arroyo before 2010. The hotel episode had no discernible planning or public support; it looked like a hasty rerun of the first eruption at Oakwood.

Trillanes’s lawyer has accused the police of roughing up his client. For her part, Sen. Miriam Santiago has proposed that Trillanes be expelled from the Senate for grossly disorderly conduct. None of these cut more deeply than the embittered lament of former Trillanes supporters and fans who say he has totally lost it. “It’s all gone into his head,” said one, “he seems to believe he can now walk on water.” One formerly supportive cleric could only mutter expletives.

Until the police began rounding up the suspects, it appeared a clear win for government. It took the high-handedness of the police, who did not seem to know they were already winning, to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, which was already theirs. By arresting and putting in handcuffs the 30 or so newsmen covering the event, one 81-year-old retired bishop, a younger priest, and a former vice president, the police completely cancelled their gains and unwittingly opened a second front against their president.

The old foes of Ferdinand Marcos were the first to point out that not even during the darkest days of martial law did they see anything like it. Were the political opposition to fold up, this new front could hold, manned by media men and clerics who are not likely to forget the incident. Life would not be easy for the regime even if it stayed. We learn early in school that the pen is mightier than the sword; in this information age, this includes television, computers, the internet. The clerics have the word of God.

This is not to suggest that the media could ever be faultless. They could be corrupt, superficial, bigoted, relativistic, but they have the last word always. They represent a universally desired value ---press freedom --- and they constitute a universal brotherhood (and sisterhood). Upon the proclamation of martial law in 1972, when Marcos ordered the newspaper offices padlocked and press censorship imposed, the international press was the first to tell him that he had more to gain from suffering the political agitation and personal calumnies of the anti-Marcos press than from closing down the most inflammatory and offensive newspapers.

It turned out to be prophetic. The media never forgave Marcos. Even after he had lifted martial law, some of the foreign wire services continued to refer to him as “Dictator Marcos” rather than “President Marcos.” As press secretary, presidential spokesman, and information secretary (then minister) from 1969 to 1980, I was attacked by some of the Palace courtiers for allegedly maintaining despicably good relations with the world media, while Marcos was stuck with a bad press. To this day, some so-called scholars and academics writing occasional pieces out of Hawaii or Canberra have not abandoned the use of “Dictator Marcos.”

The press had an unusually long honeymoon with Cory Aquino, and up to a point with Fidel V. Ramos. But it played a distinctive role in cutting short Joseph Ejercito Estrada’s presidential term of six years. Erap’s fight with the Philippine Daily Inquirer was particularly fueled by the decision of his businessmen friends, particularly those in the movie industry, to stop advertising in the paper----reportedly at the President’s behest. I never saw evidence of Erap’s hand in it; I am more inclined to believe that an over-eager factotum bit more than what he could chew, and presented Erap with a fait accompli. Erap was probably pleased with the initial result, without analyzing its real implications or consequences.

PDI survived the ad boycott, but Erap never regained the paper’s respect. Since his conviction by the Sandiganbayan on Sept. 13, 2007. the newspaper has lost no opportunity to describe Erap as “the convicted plunderer,” even after he had received full pardon, which formally erased not only the punishment but also the crime of which he had been convicted.

In the Manila Pen incident, the police argue that they had repeatedly asked the media to vacate the premises, but that they simply ignored the police. They suspect the media of having gone there not simply to cover the event but also to lend support to Trillanes. They find it highly suspicious that the press and TV cameras got there even ahead of Trillanes. They seem never to have heard of the media getting advance tips from those who want to ensure maximum coverage of an event. Thus, based on the most shaky assumptions, they simply handcuffed everyone and hauled them off to Bicutan. Truly unfortunate.

Maria Ressa of ABS-CBN is right. The media were there to cover the event; it was not for the police or the government to tell them how to do their job and when to leave. The attempt to evict the media from the scene prior to the police assault was an attempt at censorship. The media had every right and reason to resist, and they did. Of course, any of the reporters and cameramen could have gotten hurt had there been a stampede, an explosion or a shootout. That was the risk they took; it did not constitute a crime for which anyone of them could be or should be arrested.

Apparently, Mrs. Arroyo realized the mistake as soon as she saw it, and ordered the police to “expedite the processing” of the media representatives. She could not, however, embarrass or dress down the police. That was too little, too late. The war with the media is on, and there is very little one can do about it. But Secretary Ronnie Puno of the Department of Interior and Local Government, who is on top of the police, could probably still save Mrs. Arroyo a lot of trouble if he should assume full responsibility for the mistake, and give up his position to placate the press.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

In Washington, D.C. last month, I had the chance to follow the CNN-sponsored presidential debate, featuring Senators Hillary Clinton of New York, Barack Obama of Illinois and five other Democratic hopefuls. Each one tried to appeal to their tv audience, but somehow I felt the most engaging American minds were not there. I found myself for the nth time agreeing with Walter Bagehot’s claim in The English Constitution that the parliamentary system is likely to come up with more substantial political leaders than the presidential. Nonetheless, there was no mistaking how seriously each one wanted to become their party’s standard bearer.

Back home, I had not completely overcome my jet lag when I saw the footage of Senator Mar Roxas’s coronation as Liberal Party president. Nothing should take your breath away about the presidency of a political party, especially one that has been recycled after more than twenty years of being inactive. But this was a pompous extravaganza completely out of proportion to its legal cover. It was clearly calculated to project Mar Roxas’s presidential candidacy in 2010, and it made no bones about it. Oras na! (repeated several times).

Some people could wear their presidential ambition like mumps, if they don’t mind the aesthetics. But everything in its place. The extravaganza would have been expected in 2009 or even late 2008, but not now. Indeed, because of its proximity to the 2008 United States presidential election rather than to the 2010 Philippine one, one was momentarily misled into thinking that Mar Roxas was out to dislodge Hillary or Obama from the Democratic race.

Everything about it seemed wrong. First of all, it was being held amid foul weather. The nation, Bicol region in particular, was bracing for yet another super-typhoon, and the news headlines were all about Albay Governor Joey Salceda trying to evacuate hundreds of thousands of Albayanons in preparation for the typhoon. The region had not completely recovered from the last super-typhoon that had buried whole families in Albay and destroyed at least 25,000 homes in Catanduanes. It was simply not prepared for a new one, or for some people’s presidential ambitions. Neither was the nation.

Not to be outdone, Villar followed with his own launch. Since then the Nacionalista Party commercials have tried to edge out the Christmas carols in the air. As its last secretary-general before the NP went under the KBL juggernaut during martial law, I am familiar with how its old political leaders lent their substance to the party. But it will take more than ambition or money to regain that glory. The same with the LP.

In fact, the past record of these two parties is what shows up the tatterdemalion politics of their new leaders. The 2007 senatorial elections showed their utter lack of principles. Both the NP and the LP fielded three senatorial candidates each on the two opposing 12-man senatorial tickets---one candidate each under Team Unity (TU), two candidates each under Genuine Opposition (GO). The NP also ran one senatorial candidate whose sister was already sitting in the Senate until 2010. Neither the LP nor the NP said it was wrong for candidates to spend hundreds of millions of pesos to land a job that paid less than one million pesos a year. They still are not prepared to say so.

Where the party processes are alive and well, it matters not if one announces his desire to become president upon reaching the age of puberty. The party convention, which is normally held a little before the start of the legal campaign period, ultimately decides. But where every candidate is self-proclaimed, without his peers having to anoint him in a party convention, one who heads his own party and has billions to burn becomes a candidate the moment he says so.

Such is the case of Mar and Manny. They are not going to submit to an UNO or GO convention in 2009 or 2008; they are presidential candidates as of now, three years before d-day. Not because the masses madly want any of them to run, but because they have lots of money to throw away. The 90-day legal campaign period is only for those who take the law seriously.

But until the presidency is formally put up for sale to the highest bidder as in Christie’s or Sothby’s, it seems reasonable to require those who want to become president to show some principled stand on fundamental issues, and some ideas on how to address the country’s most serious problems.

For instance:

There’s no end in sight to the war in Mindanao. What ideas have we heard from the “presidentiables”? None.

Family incomes are declining amid claims of economic growth. Access to health services and educational standards are falling, while hunger and homelessness are shooting up. What have we heard from them? Nothing.

The national debt continues to climb, so does the national budget. But the country’s infrastructure remains degraded and the basic services under-funded because of syndicated corruption disguised as pork and perks for the elected and the Comelected. What concrete proposals have we heard from the “presidentiables”? Nothing.

Many can no longer seem to distinguish truth from lies, good from bad, right from wrong. What have we heard from the “presidentiables”? Nothing.

The weakening of the dollar and the artificial rise of the peso is hurting the very people who are bringing in the dollars---the 12 million or so Filipino overseas workers and the last remaining exporters who have not been wiped out by the Chinese. What have we heard from the “presidentiables”? Nothing.

The political stalemate between the administration and the opposition continues. Members of the Executive Department continue to ignore summonses from the Senate in violation of the Constitution. Too many investigations are piling up in the Senate but not a single court case against the alleged grafters. What are the “presidentiables” saying? Nothing.

Last July, the Senate’s inaugural session was presided by a senator who did not have the legal authority to do so. Last week the Senate allowed a Cabinet member to speak at the plenary session during the budget debate, in violation of the Rules. Senators habitually use unparliamentary language, without it being expunged from the record. What have the Senate “presidentiables” done about these? Nothing.

The electoral system is thoroughly corrupted. We need a brand-new Comelec, computerized counting, and some basic electoral reforms as a precondition for the next election. We also need a law that would bar political spending beyond what an elected official will earn legally from his elective office. And a law that considers automatically resigned a sitting senator who runs for President or Vice President at midterm. What are the “presidentiables” saying? Nothing.

A few days after the Roxas- Villar launch, Senator Antonio Trillanes IV and Brig. Gen. Danny Lim, both under military detention on charges of coup d’etat, walked out of the courtroom in Makati, marched to the Peninsula Hotel some five kms. away, and kept the police at bay for most of the day. The standoff ended only after the police drove an armored personnel carrier into the lobby and arrested everyone, including one retired bishop, one priest, one former vice president, and all the mediamen covering the event. The police then declared curfew from midnight to five a.m. without a prior proclamation of a state of emergency.

What have we heard from the “presidentiables”? Nothing.

While Trillanes and Lim premised their action on well-known grievances against the Arroyo regime, some have suggested that the ill-disguised premature presidential campaign may have caused them additional pain. Thus they struck back by displacing the high-octane premature campaign from the political headlines and the tv screen. If only for that, the apparently unplanned exercise did achieve something, after all.