INTRODUCING ARSENIO H. LACSON (First of Three Parts)

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

(Nota Bene: Last week, or June 23, I bought a copy of the book, “Arsenio H. Lacson of Manila,” which happens to be the biography of the colorful former Manila mayor. It is authored not by a historian, but a once Riyadh-based Filipino overseas bank worker named Amador Brioso Jr. I did not regret spending P495 to acquire a copy. It was a well-written book by a professional banker. Proof: It won the National Book Award in 2016.

I am not new to this guy. The name Arsenio H. Lacson first came into my consciousness, when I heard Paeng Yabut interviewing then Manila Mayor Arsenio Lacson over his spat with a certain Marcelino Calinawan Jr., whom then President Carlos P. Garcia assigned to probe the reported massive corruption at the Bureau of Customs  (it’s a pity that this corruption issue still nags that office after 55 years). That was in 1960. Lacson challenged Calinawan to a gun duel at the Rizal Park on a designated day and time after the latter made a public statement to say that his father Roman was an illegitimate son of grandfather Hilario, a fairly rich landowner, who fathered several kids out of wedlock.

“Ang pagkakasala ng aking mga magulang ay hindi ko pagkakasala (the fault of my parents is not my fault), Lacson thundered in heavily Visayan accented Tagalog over the airwaves. It was a single line statement that still reverberates in my ears whenever I come across the name Arsenio H. Lacson. On April 15, 1962, an Easter Sunday, Lacson died suddenly of a heart attack. I vividly remember the morose faces of my mother, my Lola Feliza, and uncles, who all harbored the opinion that Lacson was too good to die quite young.

I don’t possess memories of personal encounters. I was eight years old when he died. The many things that I have had heard about him came from secondary sources, mostly older journalists, whom I had the opportunity to interact, when I became a journalist. From those colleagues, I came to learn that Lacson was also a journalist before he launched his political career – and he wrote well. These people showered me with kindness their insights of the man. Practically every colleague held him in high esteem. They had high respect for the man, as they spoke glowingly of him.

From the late Benedicto “Ben” David, son of the illustrious human rights lawyer Juan T. David, and who used to represent NBC News, U.S.-based network, during the dark days of the Marcos dictatorship, I have learned that Lacson was “the best president the Philippines never had.” Ben David (he should not be mistaken with a deceased radio talent who had the same name) told me that if Lacson did not die early, Ferdinand Marcos, the president and eventual dictator, would not be president because Lacson was more popular than him. Lacson would surely beat him in honest, clean, and orderly elections, he told me.

But what enthralled me with Ben David’s recollections of Lacson was his frequent use of the nickname “Mambo” whenever he referred to Lacson. I did not bother to ask Ben about such term of endearment. I heard the same nickname from other colleagues. It was much later did I learn that Lacson earned it from journalists, who noticed that he could dance the Latin dance “mambo” with unparalleled grace and skill. Somehow, that nickname had stuck even after his untimely death.

From Teddy Benigno, the Agence France Presse’s’ Manila bureau chief, who later became Cory Aquino’s press secretary, I learned that Mambo (yes, he used the same endearing nickname to refer to Lacson), died a poor man, leaving his family in almost penniless state. Despite his high political profile and vast powers as Manila mayor, Lacson left nothing but a good name to his family, which had to fend for themselves to survive after his untimely death.

From the late Joaquin “Chino” Roces, publisher of the pre-martial law Manila Times and the revived post-Marcos Manila Chronicle, I gathered that Lacson was an intrepid and fearless man, a larger than life political figure, who stood against practically every president. He was never afraid of any politician of his era. Likewise, the late columnist Ben Lara of Manila Bulletin, the late writer Maning Almario, and other older colleagues liked to regale younger colleagues like me with vignettes about the guy they all preferred to call Mambo.

The following is my book review of Brioso’s book about Arsenio H. Lacson, whom many politicians called “Arsenic” for his hard hitting style and profane tongue. This is for the millennials, many of whom hardly know our history. This is also for other netizens, who need to update their knowledge about this guy.)

(Part One)

NO, SIRS and mams, the distinction of being a colorful political leader does not belong to President Rodrigo Duterte, but to Arsenio H. Lacson, who was mayor of Manila for 11 years to cover 1951-1962.

While they are both profane and irreverent, Duterte is vulgar, who uses gutter, or “imburnal,” language without feeling guilty. Duterte personifies ill breeding and lack of culture, or reflects the mentality of a typical lumpen proletariat, or a dreg of society, Duterte insults the helpless and powerless, or even women, but keeps quiet, or appears cowardly, on people, who bear arms and, ergo, exude power.

Lacson, who was “Arsenic” to friends and foes alike, but “Mambo” to working journalists, who liked his sweeter side, was the exact opposite.  Although prone to give acidic remarks at the slightest provocation, Lacson possessed the gift of language, using Shakepearean prose whenever he criticized the high and mighty, and the corrupt and powerful. He had tremendous following among the best and the brightest, or even the less fortunate and the downtrodden among our people, making him a perennial presidential timber during election time.

According to Amador F. Brioso’s biography book “Arsenio H. Lacson of Manila,” the 35-page paperback edition of which was published this year by Anvil Publishing, Lacson was born the stormy night of December 26, 1912 in the idyllic town of Talisay in Negros Occidental. Lacson was the fourth and youngest of Roman Lacson and Maria Rosario Sison. Three girls – Soledad, Amparo, and Estrella – were born in succession before Arsenio came into this world. Because his father feared that the young Arsenio would grow effete in the presence of three sisters, he hired kids in the neighborhood to box with him. This enabled Arsenio to know and understand boxing.

(Incidentally, Soledad was the mother of the late Manila Times business editor Alfio Locsin and the late BusinessDay and BusinessWorld publisher Raul Locsin. The late Philippines Free Press publisher and writer-editor Teodoro Locsin Sr. and son Teddy were their relatives. Arsenio Lacson was also a journalist before he became a politician.)

After studying in his hometown, Lacson went to Manila to complete his intermediate and secondary education. It was in 1922, when he first set foot on Manila, which at that time, underwent massive changes to reflect the U.S. colonial rule. He went to the Jesuit-run Ateneo de Manila and stayed in the dorm for boys.  Although he stayed most of the time in Manila, he did not lose touch of his origin, as he went home every summer.

At 15, Lacson joined the Ateneo football team, which competed in several inter-university competitions and foreign tournaments. By 1930, he completed his high school education, took his two-year pre-law course there, and continued to play for the Ateneo football team. Afterwards he went to the University of Santo Tomas for his law education. Diosdado Macapagal was among his classmates in the law school. He also played for the UST football team and captained the national football team.

According to the biography book, Lacson originally wanted to take up medicine, but had a last minute change of heart as he opted to enroll in the law school. Lacson was not limited to his law education; he honed his writing skills during those days. Lacson had the flair for writing, which proved useful when he pursued a career in journalism.

He was a 20-year old law student when he met the comely 18-year old Luz Santiago, a daughter of Geronimo Santiago, a veteran prewar political leader in Manila, and Ildefonsa Sychangco, owner of the National Drug Store chain. Don Geronimo was described as instrumental in paving the way for Lacson’s entry into Manila politics, while his mother-in-law earned a fortune from her business. When they got married, Lacson’s parents-in-law gave them a house on a piece of property along Earnshaw Street in Sampaloc. Their Earnshaw residence was the venue for a number of political meetings during his career as politician.

Lacson passed the Bar examinations in 1937. He was employed in the law office of the famed Vicente Francisco, who was regarded the local version of the famous American lawyer Clarence Darrow. Lacson was in the legal team which Francisco formed to work for the defense of Ferdinand Marcos, then a University of the Philippines law student, who was one of the accused in the Sept. 20, 1935 murder of Julio Nalundasan, the Ilocos Norte politician who defeated Mariano, Ferdinand’s father, in the first congressional elections under the Commonwealth government.

Marcos lost in the defense and went to jail. But his legal team succeeded in their appeal to the Supreme Court. The legal strategy of the Vicente Francisco team included using Ferdinand to raise his own arguments and appeal to the Supreme Court, the chief justice of which was Jose Laurel Sr., who later became the wartime president and postwar senator. The legal strategy worked, leading to the reversal of earlier decision at the lower court and Ferdinand Marcos’s acquittal.

Lacson never held Marcos in high esteem, particularly when they both became politicians in the postwar era. Lacson treated Marcos with derision and condescension, as indicated by his deprecating description of the latter. Since Lacson, as part of the defense panel, had intimate knowledge of his participation, Lacson described Marcos as “Nalundasan’s murderer” as their paths crossed several times in the postwar era. Ferdinand Marcos, who later became president and dictator of this country, never fought back and did not bother to counter Lacson’s shabby treatment of him.

In 1938, Lacson transferred to the Department of Justice to work as one of its lawyers. By this time, he support his growing family, he wrote a regular column in the 20-page Philippine Commonweal, one of the prewar publications. His column “Straight from Shoulder” discussed mainly sport matters and, on several times, even non-sports, which included politics. His column gained notice in the journalistic community. Arsenio H. Lacson could write. And he could write well was the consensus. But his journalistic career was stopped by the outbreak of the war. (to be continued)

(Part Two: Lacson’s Political Career)