NO TO MILITARY ADVENTURISM

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

THE proposed revolutionary government requires the support and participation of the defense and military establishment.

Without the tacit approval of the Armed Forces, as an institution, the proposed declaration of a revolutionary government is doomed even before its birth.

That is why Defense Secretary Delfin Lorenzana's statement that the defense and military would not support the proposed revolutionary government is quite reassuring.

It was a virtual slap on the face of the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, who had the effrontery to float this idea despite the three decades of a solid government under the post-EDSA restored democracy.

Lorenzana's message to the Commander-in-Chief was simple. The entire defense and military establishment is in no mood for another era of military adventurism.

There are two questions arising from Lorenzana's statement? Can we trust Lorenzan's words? Can the AFP's avowed avoidance of military adventurism hold?

Military officials can definitely be trusted. They are trained to make decisions and give their final words. They are essentially men and women of honor and integrity.

Even in the military schools, particularly the Philippine Military Academy, the country's premier military school, prospective military officials are trained to speak out the truth even on the first day they step on their premises.

Lorenzana, a retired military general, is not inclined to engage in treachery, perfidy, and foolishness. He is a man of honor, whose words could be trusted.

History shows that military officials could be trusted with their words. When the Lt. Gen. Fidel Ramos, as AFP vice chief of staff and PC-INP chief, said "yes" to Juan Ponce Enrile's proposed breakaway from dictator Ferdinand Marcos, his word signaled the start of the fateful 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution.

When he said "yes" to support the fledgling government of Cory Aquino, Ramos was instrumental in frustrating the seven military coups against the Cory government.

For the first three years of the Cory government, Ramos as either AFP chief of staff or defense secretary, moved to block and stop one coup after the other, becoming the stabiliizing factor of the restored democracy.

He did not in anyway waver. Even at the height of the 1989 military coup, the seventh and last in the series, Ramos showed tremendous resiliency and grace under pressure.

Incidentally, the 1989 coup was the biggest, bloodiest, and longest coup (it lasted five days). It was the most traumatic, as brother officers shot each other; the same with foot soldiers.It was a winner-take-call situation.

The 1989 coup virtually finished the unfinished business of military adventurism. The specter of a politicized military did not happen except on 2001 Second EDSA People Power Revolution, when the military, this time as an institution, withdrew support from Erap Estrada, the hard drinking and incompetent president.

Even at the height of the "God Save the Queen" putsch, the third of the seven coups, in November, 1986, military generals displayed their words of honor.

When Maj. Gen. Renato de Villa, then chief of the PC-INP, felt nervous about the loyalty of Maj. Gen. Rodolfo Canieso, then the Army chief, he went to him to question where he stood.

This was a big no-no in the military culture and traditions, where a PMA underclassman questioned an upperclassman. De Villa belongs to PMA Batch 1957; Canieso, PMA Batch 1956.

"Rene, I'm with you all the way," Canieso told de Villa to express support to the fledgling restored democracy. The conversation lasted five minutes; it was enough for two first class warriors.

It was a classic response, so similar to the Spanish Civil War, where Loyalist and Falangist forces fought toe and nail. "Somos o no somos?" Are you with me or not?

Incidentally, the "God Save the Queen" military adventure finally ended the partnership of Enrile and Ramos, or the bond of brotherhood they developed in the first EDSA uprising.

By telling the entire military chain of command to disobey any orders from Enrile and his RAM supporters at the Ministry of National Defense, Ramos gave his stamp of approval for the Cory Aquino government. History shows he was right all along.

Over the last 27 years, except the brief interregnums in 2001 (EDSA Dos) and 2003 (Oakwood Mutiny), AFP's avoidance of any military adventurism has been holding.

In fact, the defense and military establishment continues to evolve as an institution completely loyal and devoted to the 1987 Constitution. The public perception of the AFP as an institution of constitutional soldiers is quite prevalent too.

Reforms have been undertaken to strengthen the AFP as an institution. Over the years, the reforms include devising ways to stop massive corruption in the military establishment and inculcating democratic values like human rights and the rule of law among soldiers.

Their actuation shows they accept those values and submit to the constitutional precept of civilian supremacy over the military. Never did they ever question the civilian supremacy despite the political noises, which are common among democracies.

In fact, the military leadership has taken steps to insulate the defense and military establishment from political pressures and grandstanding. In fact, military leaders have indicated they are comfortable with the current set up.

Hence, Lorenzana's statement showing AFP's refusal to support a revolutionary government is most logical under the current situation.

The proverbial argument is the classic "why fix it when it's ain't broke." The participation and support of the defense and military establishment could mean military adventurism, which the current crop of military officers and foot soldiers have learned to disavow over the years.

In brief, it would appear their own Commander-in-Chief, in a moment of undefined frenzy, has totally misread the prevailing mood among military officers and soldiers under his command.

In brief, the Commander-in-Chief hardly knows the people in his command, as he apparently thinks that they would be at his beck and call just like a private army.

The proposed revolutionary government, at this point, is a counterflow to the march of history. It is founded on ignorance of the flow of history.

The other day, I was with two friends, both retired military officials (a general and a colonel). Over cups of coffee, we discussed the issue of revolutionary government floated by some souls in social media.

We came out with the conclusion that it would not generate support in the military and eventually fail. We discussed its lack of support among the local intelligentsia, as its supporters are men and women of dubious reputation.

The retired general said: "Ikaw ba'y magpapakamatay kay Vivian Velez (will you lay down your life for Vivian)?" End of conversation.

THE 'LUGAO' VENDOR OF YLAYA STREET

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

THIS narrative is not about Vice President Leni Robredo, who was maliciously tagged as “lugao queen” by paid propagandists and bloggers of the madman and BBM. This is about the comely vendor, who sold congee (lugao), fried tofu, and lumpia at the sidewalk of Ylaya street in Tondo in the mid-1970s.

I was then a college student at the University of the East. After my evening classes, I would take a jeepney ride on my way to Divisoria and go to her makeshift stall along Ylaya to eat lugao mixed with shredded pieces of cow’s innards (isaw, tualla, or heart) and a piece of fried lumpia. For a while, I was one of her regular customers.

After taking my little meal, I would take another jeepney ride to go home in the sub-district of Gagalangin in Tondo. I normally took my dinner at around 11 pm, when I was deep in my books and studies. That was part of my daily routine during those days.

As a regular customer, I came to know her name: Lorna. I must confess I was drawn to her because of her “morena” (brown) skin complexion. She looked like a piece of art with her smooth brown skin glistening under the shining moon. She appeared like a brass goddess to my eyes. I liked her. I was mesmerized by her brown beauty.

Lorna noticed the heavy books I usually carried and borrowed from the school library.  She perfectly understood I was a college student. When I asked her if she was going to school, she told me she stopped after completing her elementary education in one of the public schools in Tondo.

“Nagtrabaho na lang ako. Eto nagtitinda ng lugao (I went to work instead. Here I am selling lugao), Lorna said. “Ang hilig ko’y maghanapbuhay hindi mag-aral (my preference was to work, not to study),” she said, as he shredded with a knife a small piece of meat to be mixed in a bowl of lugao. It cost me a peso for that bowl.

She told me her daily routine was to bring at least two big cauldrons of lugao from their house in the old Kagitingan street, two kilometers away from Ylaya, using a four-wheeled pushcart (cariton). By sundown, they would put up the makeshift stall on the busy street, which is part the busy Divisoria commercial district.

I must confess that I was a little intrigued by Lorna’s beauty. So, I flirted. Every night I dropped by her stall, I whispered a single line, which I felt somehow registered my presence in her consciousness. It was a single line, which I felt tickled her heart.

I would go near her to whisper that devastating single line: “Ang ganda-ganda mo naman (you’re too beautiful).” Afterwards, I clamped down and said nothing until I finished my bowl of lugao, and, if my personal funds permitted, a piece of fried lumpia or tofu mixed with suka’t toyo (vinegar and soy sauce). Then, I bade her goodbye and quietly left for home.

I habitually whispered those words every night I dropped by her stall. I saw her smiling, obviously scintillated by those little words of admiration. Although she preferred to ignore me for whatever reason, we did not exchange words after I delivered the little message of the night.

But she did her own quiet repartee for my advances. I noticed that the size of the piece of meat she mixed with my lugao was getting bigger every night. At a certain point, I noticed it was more than double the regular size. How lucky I could be, I told myself. For about a month, this was the unmistakable trend.

One night, I failed to drop by her stall. I was with my co-majors doing a group paper in a certain major subject. I was the group leader and I had to be with my fellow students. Indeed, I was majoring in sociology in my undergraduate studies.

The following night I drop by to eat my usual bowl of lugao. Lorna met me with a big smile and said: “Uy, bakit hindi ka dumaan kagabi (how come you did not drop by last night)?” I was stunned by her remarks, but said I was busy doing our group works. Yes, she seemed to have been checking my attendance.

Quietly, I was telling myself I was already a winner and my devastating single liner was effective. I was on her radar. She was indeed checking my presence in her busy soul. “Tsinetsek pala niya ang attendance (she was checking the attendance),” I told myself.

No, I did not have the heart to court her. I was just a little mischievous during those days. Mi corazon caraja (my foolish heart), so they say in Spanish. It was enough for me to flirt.

But it was something that was not meant to end on a good note. One night, while eating at her stall, one of the street toughies of Ylaya quietly went to my side and whispered: “Pare, hawak ng siga iyan dito iyan. Huwag mong ligawan. Baka magripuhan ka (she’s the girlfriend of the street toughie here. Don’t dare to court her. You’ll get a leak in your body).”

I tried my best to appear calm and poised in that situation. I replied: “Ah, ganoon ba? Walang problema (so, that’s it? No problem).”

Next day, I did not dare to go again to her stall. I perfectly understood the message. The jealous lover could be after my neck. After all, it was not my intention to pursue her. 

I deliberately avoided that street and pass by another street to go home. No more lugao for me. No more those little acts of flirtation.

In my mind, it did not pay to go against the flow when I did not have the will. I quietly finished my studies and pursue a career in journalism.