MY RECOLLECTIONS OF RONNIE NATHANIELZ

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

Although I saw him on television during the Marcos dictatorial rule, I only came to personally know Ronnie Nathanielz after the 1986 EDSA Revolution. That was when he joined in early 1987 the short-lived Observer newspaper, which later became The Independent. I was a political reporter of that daily.

I was typing my news story (we didn’t have computers during those days, but had the pleasure, or displeasure, of using second-hand typewriters), when Ronnie entered the Observer's editorial office in Quezon City and handed to Yen Makabenta, our editor-in-chief, copies of his sports articles. Yen, a Manila Bulletin columnist now, graciously introduced us to the guy.

Ronnie struck me as a cool dude. He was profuse with his smile and did not carry any air. He called every guy "pare" and spoke in a mixture of English and broken Tagalog. He was polite and courteous to guys, who were below the journalistic totem pole. These guys included my humble self, who was required to report daily to the office.

I saw Ronnie almost daily in the office. I could see him bantering with other editors, including Reggie Amigo, our sports editor, and Ronnie’s immediate superior. He engaged them in serious discussions mainly about sports.

But what struck me later was that I never saw Ronnie’s byline in any of his published news stories, feature articles, or commentaries. Weeks later, Yen Makabenta told us that it was mutually agreed that Ronnie’s byline would not appear. It was a no-brainer to discern the reason behind the no-byline mutual accord. Ronnie was pariah during those days; he was down and out.

I felt repulsive at the no-byline agreement. Journalists are men and women of convictions. We stake our reputation, or everything in us, in every copy we submit to the editorial desk. 

Reporters get their highs in chasing stories and see their bylines the following day; desk editors, their fulfillment in turning rough copies into classic gems. Ronnie would have wanted to see his bylines; it was something not given him during those days.

It was difficult times for Ronnie. Because he was closely identified with the Marcoses (Ronnie never denied it; he was even proud of it!), he lost his job at the government TV network. He had to support his growing family. He had encountered the hostility of the outside world and the unofficial ostracism of the journalistic community.

But Ronnie had a big heart to endure those things, including the indignity of the no-byline policy. He patiently endured the collective brickbat, bigotry, and bashing of people who differed and disagreed with him. He had to live with their hostility and ostracism.

From our discussions, I came to know that the Observer’s management had to give Ronnie a job because he was among the very few in the Marcos dictatorial rule, who did not enrich themselves. Unlike other apologists, who badgered Marcos for favors and milked him, Ronnie kept distance from Marcos when it came to those issues. He lived modestly; his colleagues in the sportswriting business would attest to that.

Perhaps, Ronnie did not have that business acumen. Perhaps, he never liked living big and mighty with the favors he could amass from Marcos. Perhaps, he was too proud. Or perhaps, he was not smart enough to do it. The point is he did not curry favors from the dictator..

Ronnie was happy with his Filipino citizenship, which Marcos gave him on a silver through a presidential decree. It was enough. To his credit, Ronnie felt loyal for that single act of generosity. He never hid it; he was even proud of it. Anybody could disagree with Ronnie, but he was bullheaded when it came to this issue and his politics.

Ronnie did not brood over the sudden reversal of fortunes after EDSA. He could have left the Philippines and settled elsewhere. He could return to Sri Lanka, his place of birth, or go to the United States or Canada. But he chose to stay here. He once said he loved his adopted country and he intended to stay here for good.

But he knew what to do after EDSA. Hence, Ronnie revived and rebuilt his journalistic career by concentrating in sports. No more politics for Ronnie after EDSA. He did some reinvention and reengineering. Soon, the forgiving Filipino people had accepted him.

I once saw Ronnie in the late 1980s when I went to Ultra to watch a PBA game. He smiled and greeted me. We shook hands. 

After the game, I did not say goodbye as customary among colleagues. Instead, I saw him exchanging harsh words with basketball coach Norman Black, with whom he had an altercation, Well, that was the Ronnie we knew.

We had reconnected through Facebook and told him that I did remember him. He told me he did remember me too. We had some bitter exchanges of views. At one point, I thought out loud through my FB post that he was indeed an unrepentant Marcos loyalist. 

Ronnie never bothered to answer my post. He knew he had to receive as much as he gave. Despite our differences, I could say in all candor and humility that I have silent admiration for Ronnie. I admire his infinite capacity to endure and his capacity to reinvent himself. 

I like his perseverance and dedication to sports. I admire his sense of loyalty to people, who were kind to him.

I like the way he had stuck to the Marcoses, although I personally dislike the Marcoses because of the pillaging ways and refusal to offer a public apology. While most of the Marcos allies were jumping like rats out of a sinking ship when EDSA came, Ronnie had displayed an unwavering loyalty. Between those rats and Ronnie, I would choose the latter.

Ronnie was firm in his convictions no matter how we disliked him. But he was never mean to his critics. The fact was he had no mean bone in his body. He was a guy anyone would like to be on his side.

Rest in peace, Ronnie.