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) 

LAW OF THE JUNGLE

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

The political dynamics in every setting is no different from the law of the jungle. In the jungle, animals that get sick or injured fall prey to predators, while predators kill injured predators to lessen competition in the food chain. The same is true in Philippine politics.
It was when the Marcos dictatorship was at its strongest in 1979, when astute dictator Ferdinand Marcos was rumored to have been suffering from a systemic autoimmune ailment called lupus erythematosus. This disease, which has no known cure, weakens the body's autoimmune system and attacks healthy tissues including kidneys. Marcos suffered kidney failure that arose from lupus.
Marcos had to undergo regular dialysis treatment. On August 7, 1983, he underwent kidney transplant with son Bongbong as donor. His condition was a tightly guarded secret. It was never confirmed. It was only after the Marcoses were kicked out of Malacanang in 1986 that details of his precarious health condition were made public.
But during his incumbency, Marcos and his minions hid his health condition. Although his face was bloated during the waning years of his dictatorship because of heavy steroid intake, Marcos cultivated the myth he was in perfect health. The scuttlebutt was that Marcos did not only have hidden wealth (he was notorious for being corrupt); he also had hidden health.
In fact, Marcos health was the favorite topic of discussions in opposition circles. Rumors of his death did not only circulate once of twice but several times. Every time those rumors went wild, Marcos would appear smiling to dispel them. But he was truly in bad physical shape. That he was sick could be denied as indicated by his limited public appearance outside of Malacanang, particularly in the 1980s.
When his health condition was confirmed, the Laurel brothers - former Speaker Jose Laurel Jr. and younger brother and former senator Salvador, or Doy - bolted out of the Kilusang Bagong Lipunan (KBL), which, during the years of dictatorship, served as the umbrella organization of all political parties, as if it was the Nazi Party. Marginalized by the KBL, the Laurel brothers negotiated and succeeded to form the United Democratic Organization, or Unido, with key opposition leaders like Gerardo Roxas and former president Diosdado Macapagal.
The Nacionalista Party, in which the Laurel brothers were key leaders, and the Liberal Party, to which Roxas and Macapagal belonged, were the two political parties that alternated in power during the premartial law days. The KBL virtually supplanted the two parties and a number of their leaders were absorbed by the KBL. Meantime, the Laurels and other LP leaders were consigned by Marcos to the sidelines. He did not share power with them.
Almost overnight, Marcos had an organized enemy when rumors of his failing health circulated in key political circles. It was said that no less than the station master of the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency in Manila during those days knew and leaked the confirmed information about the health condition of Marcos. Although it was tightly guarded secret, this piece of information was immediately passed to opposition leaders, prompting them to organize, as Marcos weakened due to his ailment.
The rest is history. Unido became the second political coalition in the 1980s. It clamored for an end of the dictatorship and fought for the restoration of democracy. It called for a transition, which included the holding of clean, honest, peaceful, and orderly elections. Unido served as the political vehicle of the Cory Aquino - Doy Laurel ticket that challenged the Ferdinand Marcos - Arturo tandem in the 1986 "snap" presidential elections. Unido also represented the yellow political forces, which triggered the EDSA People Power Revolution that toppled the Marcos dictatorship immediately after the 1986 presidential elections.
Can we expect the same trend particularly now that the sick old man of the South is rumored to be very sick?

Certainly, of course. Marcos was so strong during those days to the point that he was so feared by his contemporaries and his minions. Yet, it took a handful to leaders to defy him to form the opposition coalition against his KBL. The sick old man is not in the league of Marcos to be feared. He is not expected to cast a deep influence in the reshaping of the alignment of the political forces in the political spectrum. It is most stupid to believe that those bloggers, their trolls, and fake news could influence the flow of political developments.
As his health deteriorates, the political dynamics is expected to change drastically too, altering the nation's political landscape. A new coalition would rise to challenge the sick's old man's coalition and even take over when he further dies or gets incapacitated. New political centers are expected to rise. The incumbent Vice President is expected to be the new center of political gravity. Who would assume the opposition is everybody's guess.
For sure, nobody wants to be left out in the next party in town. Everybody wants to gets invited. Political survival is the accepted norm among politicians. In fact, many politicians in the so-called "Super-Majority" know that the sick old man and the kind of politics he espouses are temporary trends, or even a political aberrations. When they see his health plunges, we would see them distancing from the sick old man and later criticizing it. There are no permanent things in this world. There are only political interests to protect.

THEIR IGNORANCE IS CULPRIT

By Philip M. Lustre

Obviously , the digoons (I will use the lower case to refer to the rabid, fanatic supporters of the sick old man of the South) were outsmarted by Time. I don't think Time intended it. It was more of a function - or consequence - of the digoons' ignorance. 

Time has a global market to meet. The Philippines is a small market for them. They know and understand that Filipinos are not a reading people. Their revenues (sales of printed copies and advertising income) in the Philippines have been not that high compared to bigger markets like North America and Europe.

The digoons' problem stems (I prefer to use the present tense) from their ignorance of the operations and dynamics of the newspaper business. They may have generated some savvy in nontraditional media, particularly social media, because of their ability to produce troll accounts and engage in bot operations to reflect am inordinate quantitative interest on their troll operations. 

But traditional media is different.Very, very different indeed.

Now let me engage into some lectures. In journalism school, I use to tell students that there's such thing as newsroom management. Those news accounts and feature stories that normally appear on the pages of print media materials like newspapers, newsmagazines, and magazines usually undergo some processes. 

The publishing processes are different from the social media processes. They are more rigorous. They are products of centuries of traditions. They do not appear as whimsical as one could imagine as in other media platforms like social media. 

Traditional media like print media have sets of professionals, who work in news publishing: the writers, the editors, who function as gatekeepers too, and the logistic officers, who provide the resources necessary for smooth news gathering, news writing, news editing, and news publishing. They comprise the editorial arm, or half of the print media business.

The other half is the business arm. They are distinct and different from the editorial arm. This is comprised of the revenue guys. The advertising people bring as much as advertising revenues for the publications. They go out and solicit ads from industries, governments, civil society, and other entities that would place advertisements of the publication's pages and pay. 

The circulation people sell the printed copies and bring in revenues. Hence, the business side ensures revenues and income that could propel the business operations of a publication.

As a rule, the editorial and business arms of any publication operate as separate republics. One does not dictate on the other. But they talk and coordinate. 

The business arm could tell the editorial side what the market want. The editorial side could inform the business arm on the thrust of the editorial contents of the publication. The editorial side does not have to seek the permission of the business side when it comes its editorial judgment. Neither do the editorial side interferes in the business judgments of the other side. 

These are the dynamics in the print media. Such dynamics are products of centuries of traditions.

Little did the digoons understand that the polls called by Time were not initiated by its editorial department. It came mainly from the business people, whose intention was to create a hype on its project on 100 most influential people in the world. 

The polls were launched to create some hype to boost sales of printed copies and generate advertising revenues. The polls were a marketing ploy, which the digoons took hook, line, and sinker without understanding their ramifications, implications, and complications. 

They wrongly thought that by joining the polls and making the sick old man from the south the first in the polls, their idol would land on the cover of Time magazine. Wrong. Their limited mind hardly understands the dynamics in print media. They are grossly ignorant of its operations and dynamics.

As a rule, Time's editorial department does not hold such kind of polls, which are unscientific and crude by all means. If ever it does, it would likely commission a credible polling institution to do an equally credible opinion poll. 

Editorial people do not resort to popularity contests. On the contrary, they abhor those things, knowing that they could yield unfavorable results. 

Hence, the digoons were surprised to find that the sick old man was just one of the 100. He was not on the cover page. The devastating fact for them was that Sen. Leila De Lima, their idol's nemesis, was listed as another influential leader - and in a different category: Icons. 

They could not believe it. They were mad. Now, they are calling for a boycott of Time. Who have the last laugh? Your guess is as good as mine.

What had happened to the Time's polls. Actually, they were no polls by standards of social research. They were just inquiries.. The hard copies of their results most likely ended in the filing cabinet for future use or whatever. The polls could have been hyped, but they were of very little use. In hindsight, which is always 20/20, the digoons were used.

WRONG JOURNALISM

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

This is an experience I’ve almost forgotten. I was about to consign it to oblivion, when I felt that the current situation required me to narrate it once more, if only for its latent wisdom.

Nearly five months ago, I attended a media forum and workshop, where participants were some journalism students from a downtown university, while the rest were a mixture of working journalists. The moderator, a seasoned journalist, who had worked in local dailies and now a journalism teacher in one of the better universities, opened the workshop by asking participants, particularly the students, their assessment of the current state of Philippine media.

A student in his early 20s immediately responded by declaring his frustration over what he described as the nature of new coverage. It’s too one-sided, he declared, but not to favor the current administration, which, at that time, was gaining international notoriety and condemnation for the growing spate of extrajudicial killings (EJKs).

We were mostly inclined to accept his diatribes because it was his right to express his mind. But what surprised us was his sweeping generalization that the perceived lack of fairness to favor the government was caused by the machinations of what he termed as “dilawan,” or “yellow forces” in local mass media. He did not offer any proof. It was just one sweeping statement to reflect the thinking of many people, who support the incumbent president and his violent antidrug war, which is now being perceived as a war against the poor, or those people "with a pair of dirty feet."  

Not a few quizzical brows went up by such daring, sweeping generalization. It did not escape my attention either. As a journalist and teacher, I had to do my share to disabuse what I considered the student’s poisoned mind.  I did my share to explain. I spoke out of my commitment to truth.

Journalism has three basic tenets, I said. These are truth, balance, and objectivity, or fairness. Every journalism student should understand those basic tenets because everything revolves on these tenets, I said.

Truth is the journalist’s fundamental commodity, as he goes out and competes in the marketplace of ideas, I said. Of course, I express my indignation at the sweeping generalization that if the news reports did not conform to his mindset, it was yellow and should be condemned.

Then, I went to explain media’s role as society’s watchdog. Mass media’s role is to report the truth. It works without an agenda. If ever it works to favor certain parties, then it becomes a propaganda machine, I said. It was my way to inculcate into the young man’s mind that mass media should not be a propaganda machine of the party in power.

As I explained mass media’s role, I could not help but take a dig on the kind of journalism education he was getting from the downtown university, the owners of which are known supporters of the incumbent president, and, of course, his teachers. Then, I summed p my discussions by telling him that mass media functions basically "to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted."

I could not help but frame my statement with the clarifying premise, saying “I don’t know what your teachers taught you in school and I don’t have any personal knowledge, but if I were your teacher, I would tell you … blah … blah … blah.”

Actually, I viewed the poor student as victim of prevalent mind-conditioning - or even mind-poisoning - that emanates from a growing culture of populism, where every issue should be settled by taking a short cut instead of engaging in the circuitous route premised on the twin principles of rule of law and due process.

The student hardly spoke as I explained the rudiments of journalism, which his teachers apparently deprived him in journalism school. I did not have to engage in any sophisticated discussions of the issue. I just stuck to the fundamentals.

Incidentally, it has been a habit among the president's rabid supporters to blame everything to the "yellow forces," which, at this point, have become some sort of a phantom enemy. 

If they were referring to the Liberal Party (LP), they should at the very least know that the LP has been emasculated by mass defections to the ruling PDP-Laban and the "Super Majority" in Congress.

Blaming everything to the Yellows is easy. It is the product of a lazy mind. Engaging in that sweeping accusation is a function of monumental ignorance and stupidity. 

'GOD SAVE THE QUEEN’ COUP PLOT

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

After the historic 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution, the fundamental question: Should the reform movement in the Armed Forces continue or should it cease its existence?

Two schools of thought dominated the military establishment. The military leadership under then Gen. Fidel Ramos, the AFP chief of staff after deposed Gen. Fabian Ver, wanted an end not just to the reform movement, but also to other fraternity organizations within the AFP. 

But the younger officers wanted a continuation of the reform movement. They even believed that Ramos should head it, although the latter politely rejected their overtures.

A commission, which President Cory Aquino formed in 1990 to study the series of military coups and rebels under her government, said that many officers belonging to the Reform the Armed Forces Movement (RAM) believed that RAM should be dismantled because its objectives had been achieved after the EDSA Revolution.

But the commission headed by Hilarion Davide Jr., who later became the Supreme Court chief justice, also found out a faction of reformist solders, led by Col. Gregorio Honasan, wanted to continue the movement, giving rise to the RAM-Honasan faction.

The policy differences between Cory Aquino and defense minister Juan Ponce Enrile became public. Enrile kept on criticizing the Aquino government’s initiatives to start peace talks with the National Democratic Front (NDF), the political arm of the outlawed Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). Enrile also assailed publicly what he perceived as kid glove treatment to communist rebels.

In what appeared to be her way to appease a subordinate, Cory Aquino even had a dialog with Enrile at the house of a common friend, University of the Philippines president Edgardo Angara, at Dasmarinas Village, which happens to be a stone’s throw away from Enrile’s.

The dialog, which was widely chronicled by journalists and scholars, resulted in JPE’s enumeration of what looked like the grievances of his faction and their demands: a hardline counterinsurgency policy; dismissal of alleged left-wing members of the Aquino Cabinet, including Joker Arroyo and his faction composed of Augusto Sanchez, Teodoro Locsin Jr., Rene Saguisag, among others; the termination of the “Freedom Constitution” that governed the Aquino’s “revolutionary government” and the drafting of a new constitution to replace the 1973 Constitution; and the dismissal of “incompetent” nd "undeserving" officers-in-charge (OICs), who replaced local officials under the Ferdinand Marcos regime.

Although Cory Aquino took recognition of those demands, it took her several months before she acted on them. The long wait took its toll on the reformist bloc, which, at that time, was being transformed into a putchist faction. It joined Enrile, becoming his virtual military arm, or private army, depending on which point of view.

The series of 1986 meetings among leaders of the reformist bloc, reputedly led by Enrile’s security men at the Ministry of National Defense, culminated on the crystallization of a military putsch, codenamed “God Save the Queen,” a reputed “surgical operation” to cleanse the Aquino government of what they considered left-leaning elements.

Enrile was reportedly among its leaders. Maj. General Rodolfo Canieso reported to the Davide Commission that no less than Enrile told him that something had to happen “to take back the power of the presidency the military gave her.” This was the Enrile's "monster attitude," which was widely criticized even within the military establishment.

But what was unique about the God Save the Queen coup was that the leaders treated it casually. Even Enrile announced that it would be launched on Nov. 11, 1986 in a manner as if he was announcing the next twinbill PBA basketball games at Ultra Gym, or a beauty contest in a barangay.

A week before its launch, Enrile met several military generals, including the heads of the four major commands, and sweet talked them to join the coup plot, but the generals merely said they would stay neutral. It was their way to rebuff him. 

It was also learned that the Enrile faction had forged a tactical alliance with the military faction identified with Marcos and Ver, raising speculations that the two factions would raise joint attacks against major government installations and media outfits.

Although Enrile failed to get their support, his faction continued to float that the coup was rescheduled to take place on Nov. 23. As casual as that, raising criticisms even from other military leaders like Philippine Military Academy superintendent Brig. Gen. Rodolfo Biazon that such “surgical operations” would lead the country to nowhere but to heightened fratricidal war among Filipinos.

Despite the widespread public perception that the Enrile military faction were up for something big, Cory Aquino continued her trip to Japan, a four-day state visit which was earlier planned to fix the Philippine-Japan bilateral relations adversely affected by the Marcos dictatorial rule. She left Manila on Nov. 10, 1986 but with the statement that she would deal with any “military action by the misguided elements.”

I was a young reporter, who had rejoined the local media after the EDSA Revolution. I joined the Cory Aquino state visit as part of her media party. I covered her state visit for the ill-fated Philippine Tribune, which was set up jointly in March, 1986 by Pat Gonzales, who used to work in the Bulletin Today of Gen. Hans Menzi, and Neal Cruz, who worked in the Roberto Benedicto-owned Daily Express.

It was a successful trip as Cory Aquino succeeded in the rescheduling of the repayment of the country's overdue foreign debts with Japan and their eventual restructuring. Also, she succeeded to get new loan packages and bilateral assistance in what appeared to be Tokyo's way to establish rapport with her new government.

While in Tokyo, the media team could feel the coup jitters, although Cory Aquino’s media handlers kept on advising us on a daily basis that the situation in Manila was under control, as the President kept in touch on a daily basis with her Cabinet. We returned home on Nov. 15 without any untoward incident.

Days after her return from Tokyo, the country was shocked when it learned that the lifeless body of leftwing labor leader Rolando Olalia was dumped in Antipolo. Initial suspects were certain RAM members. It was later alleged that Olalia was a victim of torture and summary execution. His death was part of the perceived destabilization plan of the Enrile military faction, which did not like Mrs. Aquino’s initiatives.

It was on the night of Nov. 22, 1986 that the God Save the Queen plot was about to reach its climax. The military leadership under Gen. Ramos had monitored what it described as unauthorized troop movements from some parts of Luzon, prompting the military leaders to meet to take last-minute steps to defuse the tension.

The first group that was neutralized was the Guardian Brotherhood, Inc., a military fraternity organization that was reportedly involved in the earlier but comical Manila Hotel occupation. Ramos sought Enrile but he was unreachable on that night, prompting him to send PC-INP chief Lt. Gen. Renato de Villa to seek out for Col. Gregorio Honasan and his alleged co-conspirators for a dialog.

But when de Villa sensed, in his meeting on the early morning of Nov. 23 with Navy Captain Felix Turingan and Major Noe Wong, the RAM-Marcos loyalist factions would proceed with the planned God Save the Queen plot, Ramos took his ace in his sleeve and send the pivotal radio message that forever changed the complexity of the military establishment. Shortly before 2 am, which was supposed to be jumpoff point, Ramos said:

“The New AFP stands behind the present government of President Aquino having been elected and installed by the people and whose government is recognized by the international community. The Joint Staff and four Major Service Commanders and INP are together with General Ramos in this undertaking. We must not betray our country and people. Inform your governors and local executives to help maintain calm and stability in your [area of responsibility]. Disregard any orders from MND or Col. Honasan and MND staff.”

Ramos’s directive broke the impasse. Up to the last minute, Enrile was hoping Ramos and the military commanders would join him and his faction in the planned God Save the Queen plot. Ramos, on the other hand, was hoping that Enrile and his group would change their mind and rejoin the coalition. But up to the last minute, the two main players in the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution did not know they would soon part ways.

Ramos effectively shackled the coup plotters, as those military leaders, who were supposed to join the coup, failed to leave their camps to implement their plans. In brief, the military units, which were to join the coup, did not arrive, leaving Honasan and his group with no military units to deploy.

By 3 am, the military units returned to their barracks. As a result of this plot, Cory Aquino fired Enrile as defense chief and replaced him with Rafael Ileto, a veteran soldier who created the elite Scout Rangers unit of the Philippine Army. Ileto later dissolved the MND security unit and transferred its leaders to various parts of the country.

But it was a temporary victory for the Aquino government. With Enrile and Ramos out of the picture, the coup plotters had to recast their plan. It was a totally different ball game for the next series of military coups against the fledgling Aquino government.

A POST-DUTERTE AGENDA

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

Now, the question: What is the post-Duterte era agenda?

President Rodrigo Duterte himself has cultivated discussions of what has to be done in the event he is no longer the president. This issue has assumed importance, when he had admitted publicly that he was afflicted with certain illnesses and that he could probably die and fail to complete his six-year term of office.

Talks of his failing health were somehow exacerbated by public admission that he was taking Fentanyl, a powerful drug administered to cancer patients to ease physical pain. Moreover, he was pointing to either Vice President Leni Robredo or former senator Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. as replacement.

Moreover, his failure to engage in any public appearance for the first week of 2017 had reinforced further widespread beliefs that he could be sick or suffering from an ailment that has prevented him to go public. Moreover, he was reported to have quietly sought treatment in an anti-cancer hospital in Guanzhou, China, triggering further discussions on the state of his health..

Let’s discuss the premises before going to the subject matter.

Succession mechanism

Article 6, Section 8 of the 1987 Constitution provides the succession mechanism:

“In case of death, permanent disability, removal from office, or resignation of the President, the Vice-President shall become the President to serve the unexpired term. In case of death, permanent disability, removal from office, or resignation of both the President and Vice-President, the President of the Senate or, in case of his inability, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, shall then act as President until the President or Vice-President shall have been elected and qualified.”

Although the 1987 Constitution clearly says the vice president takes if ever the president dies or suffers permanent disability, this constitutional provision has many gray areas too. It does not specify ways to declare the president’s permanent disability. It does not say which person or institution could declare him as permanently disabled.

Ecuadorean experience

But the country could be guided by precedents in other nations, particularly Ecuador, a medium-sized nation of 15 million people in South America.

On February 6, 1997, its Congress did the unprecedented by declaring Abdala Bucaram Ortiz as “mentally unfit,” replacing him with the vice president, and forcing him to seek asylum in Panama. The congressional initiative was swift and decisive as Bucaram, son of Lebanese immigrants, was president for only seven months. He was popularly elected in 1996, winning 21 of Ecuador’s 22 provinces.

Although the economic issues that bedeviled his presidency were factors for his dismissal, his series of comedic acts led the Ecuadorean Congress to dismiss him. Bucaram was perceived a mad man; he branded himself as “el loco” (crazy guy). In fact, when the Ecuadorean economy plummeted, Bucaram diverted the Ecuadoreans’ attention and did what he thought was best – by being himself.

He did not just cultivate his public image of an iconoclast, who challenged authorities and traditions, but overplayed it to become comic, who sought to entertain the Ecuadoreans, who, at that time, felt the economic pressures and were becoming dismayed by his lack of leadership. Amid the scandals and corruption charges, Bucaram released CD copies of his music entitled “A Crazy Man Who Loves” (“El Loco Que Ama” in Spanish). He shaved off his trademark moustache on live TV and later adopted the clipped moustache of Nazi Germany dictator Adolf Hitler.

Bucaram invited for lunch Lorena Bobbitt, the Ecuadorian American who gained notoriety for castrating her husband. He attended the World Banana Queen contest in Quito, grabbed the microphone and sang, as he was surrounded by scantily clad contestants. Bucaram mocked an ex-president by comparing him to a donkey. When asked for a public apology, Bucaram obliged but he did it to the donkeys.

The air of negativity and hatred that pervaded his presidency culminated in his dismissal, triggering a precedent that has become a new model for the rest of the world. Despite his tragic political fate, Bucaram managed to give the quote of all time: “They call me ‘Crazy Abdalá’, but madmen speak from the heart and see with their soul.”

It is inconceivable how the Philippine Congress would react just in case the President’s health declines to the point of permanent disability, rendering him incapable to discharge his functions as chief executive. In the absence of any enabling law on the constitutional provision on succession, it is likely that any act of Congress to declare him as permanently disabled could be challenged before the Supreme Court.

Extra-constitutional means

The emerging democracy movement could trigger new political upheavals, as democratic forces go to the streets anew to counter the authoritarian tendencies and the political forces that represent them. In its view, the current political leadership, as represented by Duterte and the PDP-Laban, is in alliance with political forces and families that represent and pursue an authoritarian agenda – the Arroyos and the Marcoses.

Depending on the political alliances and strength it could muster and its ability to address the burning issues, including the unabated extra judicial killings (EJKs), the democracy movement, as represented by various political forces that adhere to the restored democracy, could pose the biggest challenge to the Duterte government. It could trigger political upheavals that could lead to his removal from office.

This year could be a watershed year for Philippine democracy. Aside from impending death or permanent disability, at least three major political events, or their combination, have been identified as trigger mechanisms for a change of political leadership. These are: resignations of key Cabinet members; declaration of permanent disability by Congress; and withdrawal of support by the Armed Forces.

Coupled by the rising tide of political activism to be led by the pro-democracy movement composed mostly of millennials and the emergence of Vice President Leni Robredo as the new icon of democracy, the initiatives from the Executive Department, Congress, and the Armed Forces could lead to a political crisis of unimaginable proportions. It could later lead to the collapse of the government and its replacement by a new one.

New democratic agenda

The new democratic agenda in a post-Duterte era could mean the pursuit of the following:

1.      Creation of a new commission to investigate the spate of extrajudicial killings, identify the responsible people, and recommend their criminal prosecution and other moves to prevent their escape from the bar of justice;

2.    Redirection of the country’s foreign policy to acknowledge, adhere, and implement those international and bilateral agreements, of which the Philippines is a signatory, and other binding decisions by international bodies;

3.    Redirection of the anti-drug war to complete adherence to the rule of law and due process, complete rejection of EJKs and other means regarded as fascistic, and reeducation of all law enforcement agencies on democratic ideals; and

4.    Reeducation of the Filipino people on the contending ideals and values the forces of democracy and authoritarianism represent.

The new post-Duterte era government could also work on the following objectives:

1.      A new offensive on economic diplomacy to regain the economic losses, which include foreign entities that have withheld their participation and entry into the Philippine market;

2.    Reinstitution of the anti-corruption campaign of the Aquino administration and re-imposition of the anti-corruption values and ideals that have been sidelined by the unrestrained focus on the anti-drug war;

3.    Reorganization of the entire government to erase all vestiges of authoritarianism and the values its represents;

4.    Pursuit of a foreign relations offensive to regain support of major allies like the United States and European Union without prejudice to moves to strength of ties with China and Russia;

5.     Pursuit of a new campaign to “demarcosify” Philippine society by explaining to the Filipino people the Marcos legacy, which includes massive human rights violations, crony capitalism, and massive plunder of the national coffers.

INTRODUCING JOSE MANUEL I. DIOKNO, LAWYER OF SEN. LEILA DE LIMA

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

Jose Manuel Diokno, lawyer of embattled Sen. Leila de Lelima,  was thirteen years old when he started joining his father Jose, the illustrious lawmaker, human rights advocate, and nationalist, in court hearings of the latter’s clients, mostly political activists and poor citizens.

Jose Manuel, or Chel, sat at the back of his father, watching the courtroom drama and listening to vigorous exchanges of arguments among litigating lawyers, or absorbing depressing testimonies from respondents.

Chel Diokno did not see the world winking at him as a pubescent kid. On the contrary, he saw a world of oppression and destitution. This education in his formative years proved pivotal in his career choice.

It did not take long for Chel Diokno to help his father in the latter’s law practice, mainly for pro bono clients.

Soon, the pubescent paralegal visited various jails, conducted interviews with jailed clients and witnesses, prepared and wrote their testimonies as background materials, and helped his father in building up cases for them.

Even his father was surprised on his extraordinary enthusiasm.

No, the former senator never thought Chel would become a lawyer someday. Neither did he encourage the kid to take up law. Nor did he give any financial reward for his self starting kid.

This happened at the height of the repressive martial law, or soon after the dictator Ferdinand Marcos released his father from nearly two years of imprisonment.

That was the time, when the nation was silenced into submission by the spate of arrests and detention of the dictator’s political enemies, whom the autocrat collectively labelled as “enemies of the State.”

After completing his undergraduate course at the University of the Philippines, Chel Diokno entered the UP College of Law with the resolve to follow his father’s footsteps to become not just an ordinary lawyer, but a human rights lawyer too.

He was already in law school, when the 1983 assassination of opposition leader Benigno Aquino Jr. shook the world for its noontime drama and naked display of power.

Apprehensive that his son would be involved in the unmitigated political dynamics of those days, Ka Pepe sent Chel to the United States to finish his law degree there.

He did it at the Northern Illinois University. Soon, he passed the U.S. Bar examinations. He returned to the country after the fateful 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution that toppled the oppressive Marcos dictatorship.

Chel Diokno passed the Bar examinations here and attended to his father, whose health was already failing during those days.

Despite completing his law degree in the U.S., Chel said he passed the local Bar examinations because the two countries have basically the same legal principles.

After his father’s death in 1987, Chel took over his father’s law office and did litigation works, mostly human rights cases.

While Chel appears low key compared to his outspoken father, who never hesitated to speak out his mind on every burning issue of the day, he does not lack the intensity or the passion to push for his human rights agenda.

Soon, he is deep into human rights, an advocacy which he feels proud to inherit from his father.

De La Salle University, of which Ka Pepe was one of its outstanding alumni, offered Chel Diokno to become the founding dean of its law school in 2010.

According to Chel, the De La Salle brothers urged him to form a law school with a strong foundation on human rights. It was an offer which was difficult to refuse.

Under his leadership as its founding law dean, the law school has come out with a curriculum that seeks to develop the litigation skills of prospective lawyers.

Veering away from the other law schools’ emphasis on book knowledge, the new law school seeks to develop legal writing skills among their students.

Also, their students, upon reaching third year, have to provide mandatory legal aid services to poor litigants. This is part of their on-the-job training, Chel said.

DLSU is the first law school to do it. Moreover, DLSU law students can choose to major in any of the three areas: human rights law, corporation law; and environmental law.

Chel Diokno said he accepted the post of a law dean, when the DLSU brothers had assured him a free hand to develop its law curriculum.

In fact, they told him they wanted a law school deeply oriented in human rights. He said he has specific instructions to develop a law school with a strong sense of values and ethics.

It has been a challenge, which, like a typical passionate yet compassionate Chel Diokno, would never run away.