Spitfire’s list

I’ve been reflecting on a Philippines Free Press editorial dating back to 1988, which demands what we need today: a respectable opposition. Though as you’ll see from Gail Ilagan’s column below, the country may be saved not by the opposition, but by the public from both opposition and administration. Perhaps God works in mysterious ways: we need Imee Marcos and Joseph Estrada to serve as the strongest shields of Mrs. Arroyo, until the rest of the country finally comes to its senses about her.

In his column today, Tony Abaya harps on the naive nature of those who would sit at the same table with National Democrats, much less march with them. And he has some valid points that I share: how can people praise, for example, Rep. Crispin Beltran, when he publicly praised the Tiananmen Square massacre? And who lavishes praise on Cuba because, at least, under Castro no dental cavity is left unfilled? I have visited the Vietnamese refugees in Vietville, Puerto Princesa City, and listened to their stories of how they were persecuted for crimes you and I commit over here on a regular basis: dreaming of setting up a Mom & Pop store, owning a vehicle, attending Sunday Mass, not believing in dictatorship, wanting to read any book we please, etc.

What Abaya overlooks, however, is this. At a time when government tries to make its efforts acceptable by publishing arrest lists filled with the names most citizens who consider themselves decent dislike, it is exceedingly dangerous to imagine that isn’t merely the tip of the iceberg. The dangerous logic of the government propaganda line -”if you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear”- is that it assumes the government is as reasonable, as decent, as self-controlled as you like to think you are. Who says they are, and will ever be? Who says any government has ever been that way? And who says any government, even if that way, will stay that way, unless people make themselves pests to ensure that will be so?

Who determines who has done something wrong? Not the courts. Not Congress, nominally, at least, representative of the people. The determiner of right and wrong is the military and police, under the guidance of the government: and as for their verdict, there’s no appeal.

Furthermore, whether one agrees or not that the National Democrats are obnoxious, dangerous, and devilish, it takes a government undergoing implosion to turn an otherwise unpopular enemy into a figure otherwise hostile people are willing to rally around to support. If what you have, for example, against Crispin Beltran is a warrant arising from a speech he made against Marcos, then you leave no choice for decent people but to disagree with the reason behind his arrest. When a government invites someone in for questioning, then, while the questioning is going on, discovers a moldy old warrant, and implements it, and then, having done that, only then begins to cobble together what it claims is evidence for more contemporary charges, you do not have justice, or a justifiable national security interest: you have what anti-opposition critics have accused the opposition of doing -a fishing expedition. So if a fishing expedition against Arroyo’s wrong, it is now OK if used against her critics? That’s the kind of twisted logic that can only turn more and more people against the administration. (Update: Sassy Lawyer points to a news report that the only place not covered by Proc. 1017 is Cebu City).

Anway. In the punditocracy today, let us begin, since “fairness” is being insisted upon at the point of a bayonet, in producing the Palace propaganda line, courtesy of Marit Stinus-Remonde. The right to overthrow presidents, she says, is not a human right; thank God the Americans, the French and the British had kings. Too bad Ferdinand Marcos didn’t proclaim himself one.

After getting a taste of the real-life differences between mainstream media and blogging, Connie Veneracion comes out today with an analysis of Proclamation 1017 which is very subtle. She defines what the proclamation is, and is not -but ultimately argues that public passions will be crucial to determining the legitimacy of the proclamation.

In the House of Representatives, Rep. Teodoro L. Locsin, Jr. gave voice to the arguments he expressed to me last Friday, but amplifies and adds to them in the light of recent developments. In the first part of his speech he argues,

Indeed, no one has anything to fear from 1017 but fear itself.

Sure, the proclamation can have a chilling effect. That is what it is meant to do to those who commit crimes-but only crimes-that contribute to the emergency. The proclamation should instill no fear in those who speak the truth however distasteful to the President and her people. It certainly shouldn’t lower the temperature of our passionate commitment to the Constitution, especially the Bill of Rights, and the separation of powers that is protected by the immunity of the members of Congress.

Indeed, the proclamation can chill us only if we let it-as when the House submits too readily when it should be resisting without qualification or demure to the encroachments of the presidency. The House should not be satisfied if small allowance is made for the personal dignity of the members hauled off to jail.

I heard colleagues in the House say that our members are not above the law and are nothing more than ordinary citizens. Excuse us, but we are not ordinary citizens. Arrest one of us and you detain an entire constituency and diminish to that extent the people who speak and act through Congress.

I have heard colleagues in the House say that congressmen are no more immune to arrest for rape than for rebellion. Those who say so probably have a proclivity for rape.

But there is a vast ocean of difference between rape and rebellion; the first can never be condoned, the second is the historical foundation of our new democracy since Edsa. And if there is any raping going on, it may be of democracy, and it isn’t by this branch of the government.

So, yes, the President has the power to proclaim, and we must presume she did it responsibly. But sooner rather than later, and unavoidably, she must come before Congress and show it that she was correct in her perception, and punctilious about the legality of the measures taken to address the threat.

Nor should she be afraid to do so. She has only to show us, when the emergency is over, the intelligence reports and the evidence to back them up.

Thus she must establish the premises of her proclamation, such as the existence of a conspiracy between the extreme Left and the extreme Right to bring down the duly constituted Government elected in May 2004.

She must establish their persistence in this regard.

She must show how certain segments of media have recklessly magnified the claims of these elements, and show why these claims are not entitled to be published or broadcast pursuant to the never-to-be-infringed and always-to-be-upheld freedoms of speech, press and peaceful assembly.

Accusations, especially of graft and corruption, not to mention election fraud, which strikes at very root of the assumption that hers is a duly constituted government, can never be restrained.

Butch Dalisay gives clear, concise, arguments as to why the President, and not the people, is the one doing the shooting -of her own foot:

What’s becoming clear to both sides is that she’s increasingly displaying a personal intolerance of opposition—even from within her own Cabinet—and intends to hang on to the full term she believes she’s entitled to, no matter what. A clampdown would give her a freer hand to move on with her reform agenda away from the incessant carping of her detractors—or at least that’s what her spokesman would say. And why not, indeed? As some of my US-based friends would urge, why not just drop all the bickering and rally behind GMA to modernize the nation?

We’d love to do that, folks; no one wants to march in the noonday sun, only to get whacked over the head by a policeman’s truncheon. GMA’s reform agenda looks good on paper—except that she hasn’t lifted a finger to implement, say, real electoral reform. And until she dusted this “state of emergency” rule out of the Constitution, and riding on a small economic bubble, it was even looking like the Lucky Lady would outlast her critics.

But once again, by arresting enemies and silencing pesky journalists, a shakened and still shaky government is proving that primal fear and survival instincts—not any modern philosophy of governance—rule the roost in Malacañang.

In her column, Gail Ilagan in Mindanao takes the state of emergency as a personal affront to the citizenry:

I appeal for the lifting of the national state of emergency because the populace is taking the declaration as a personal affront that implies a curtailment of our basic freedoms and rights. It has set off a high fear reaction which, because the Proclamation has prevented certain events to unfold as anticipated during the EDSA anniversary, has been rendered baseless. People need to attribute and justify the “unfounded alarm” that was raised in them. Fear turns to anger that will find direction, like a divining rod, to what had triggered the unfounded fear. When that happens, the politicians won’t need to pay people to go out to the streets to protest. They would do so on their own.

H. Marcos C. Mordeno in the same paper makes an interesting observation:

Back to the Fort Bonifacio event, it would seem Defensor was unnerved when Lt. Col. Archie Segumalian, commander of the 2nd Marine Battalion who joined Querubin, shouted “we just wanted clean elections.” Had Segumalian elaborated on the statement, which refers to the alleged attempt by the Arroyo camp to use the Marines in rigging the elections in Lanao in May 2004, Malacañang’s chief of staff would have realized his savvy as a propagandist would be useless against the word of what’s largely perceived to be the most professional military unit in the country, the Philippine Marines.

In the blogosphere, kantogirl blues has to have one of the funniest blog entries to come out of the latest mutation of this crisis. Going down the existing limitations on the freedoms people want to exercise, she suggests “pink is the new black,” referring to protest-friendly colors. Paolo Manalo runs with the idea:

If pink is the new black, and activists become “aesthetic connoisseurs”, will there be a militant beauty congress called Mga Anak ng Fuschia whispering in a very loud voice:

    DON’T MAKE BAKA, MAKE NA LANG CHAKA!
    DON’T MAKE GALIT, MAKE NA LANG LAIT!
    IF NOT US, WHO PA KAYA?
    IF NOT NOW NA, WHEN PA?

Perhaps Paolo, et al. are onto something: the launch of a colegiala-conyotic resistance. How else to explain something like GMA Stinks?

But seriously, folks…

After all points to the tremendous pressure -the piercing spotlight of history- on the justices of the Supreme Court by what this blogger charmingly calls “the Kapampangan spitfire”.

Kumintang, last Saturday, pointed out that what shouldn’t be overlooked is that even if one grants the President the right to do what she’s doing, she has a corresponding right to defend the very things she says must be sacrificed for the time being.

Torn & Frayed attended a talk given by Randy David and former UP Law Dean Pangalanan. Two tidbits from Randy David are particularly illuminating:

• His most memorable remark was “Everyone is aware of the enormous class and economic differences in the Philippines, but you cannot really be aware of them until you taste the judicial system”.

• Mike Defensor phone David to apologise and to explain he was not “on the list”. “There’s a list?” David said.

Speaking of lists, Punzi proposes what he thinks is the government’s order of battle.

Philippine Politics 04 has a very useful run-down of the perpetual confrontations between the administration and the media.

Finally, there has been a flurry of manifestos and statements. Among the latest:

Action for Economic Reforms and the Jose P. Laurel Constitutional Law Society

Technorati Tags: constitution, journalism, media, military, Philippines, Philippines Free Press, state of emergency

The Long View: A lapdog republic

A lapdog republic

By Manuel L. Quezon III
Inquirer

THERE IS THIS POINT OF VIEW THAT A PRESIDENTIAL proclamation serves to publicize the state of mind of the chief executive. President Macapagal-Arroyo’s Proclamation 1017 suggests a Marcosian state of mind. Lawyers have pointed out that the closing paragraph of the proclamation was lifted virtually verbatim from one of the most notorious proclamations in presidential and Philippine history: Proclamation 1081 of Sept. 21, 1972. Now, if there is something journalists have in common with lawyers, it’s an interest in precision when it comes to language: words, phrases, even punctuation, are not used carelessly (if one takes any pride at all in one’s work); and the use of sources reveals, clearly and beyond a shadow of a doubt, the political color of a writer. If you are a Marxist, you quote Marx, Engels, possibly Lenin and Mao; if you are a democrat, you quote Jefferson, Adams, Burke and Rousseau; if you are for non-violence, you quote Gandhi and the Dalai Lama; if you are a fascist, you look to Mussolini, Hitler and Marcos.

No democratically inclined president, and no lawyer working for a president insistent about maintaining democracy by the ways of democracy (to adapt a phrase from Cory Aquino) would even contemplate using the word “decree” in an executive issuance with democratic and republican intentions. And yet this is what Ms Arroyo did.

Proclaimed she: “[I]n my capacity as their Commander in Chief, do hereby command the Armed Forces of the Philippines, to maintain law and order throughout the Philippines, prevent or suppress all forms of lawless violence as well [as] any act of insurrection or rebellion and to enforce obedience to all the laws and to all decrees, orders and regulations promulgated by me personally or upon my direction.” Which might be fine and dandy except no president since Marcos has claimed the right to issue decrees; not even Cory Aquino, during the period of absolute power she enjoyed until the ratification of the present Constitution, was bold, careless, or crass enough to use that word. And yet, Ms Arroyo does: because her lawyers copied the language from Marcos, and the President, who presumably closely reads everything she signs, found nothing offensive with the presumption she can issue decrees, even in a democratic setting.

If you, the reader, are inclined to quibble with me about one word in a document, bear in mind that for writers, lawyers and readers-that is, for everyone who is literate-words are everything. Be that as it may, here’s an additional point.

The President’s personal lawyer, Romulo Macalintal, has been parroting a phrase to defend the President’s proclamation (regardless of the origin of part of its contents): “Presumption of regularity.” This is, indeed, something that accompanies all issuances coming from government authorities. It is also the weakest of rhetorical appeals-an appeal to authority.

When the government uses a warrant issued by the dictatorship to arrest an elected member of the House, 21 years after the warrant was issued; when a professor and students, who dare to exercise their democratic rights, and insist on doing it peacefully such that they take the trouble to dialogue with the police, are assaulted, rounded up, detained and questioned-only to be released without charges; when a newspaper is raided and its issue for the day prevented from rolling off the press; and then the government appoints military minders to watch over it while the presidential chief of staff claims, without batting an eyelash, that this does not constitute editorial interference; when the justice secretary and the head of the national police make pointed remarks that they can arbitrarily decide which media can continue to function (implying all media operates on their sufferance); when it is announced that a widow wanting to lay a wreath at the foot of the monument of her husband, and those who wish to recall their efforts to overthrow a dictatorship, all face the possibility of arrest or at least “dispersal”; there can be no presumption of regularity. There can only be a presumption of irregularity.

Fear, selectively applied, is the dusk announcing the more promiscuous enforcement of terror in the dark night that’s falling. Intimidation is required if selective official amnesia is to prevail.

Consider that Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim is said to have attempted to convince the AFP chief of staff to join him in withdrawing support from the President. The armed forces has said, in no uncertain terms, that in its determination of the facts, General Lim wanted to join ralliers and make his position known. As far as the chronology goes, this means a mutiny was contemplated by disgruntled military elements, and not a coup d’etat. Withdrawal of support was what the President and her husband actively courted the leadership of the armed forces to undertake Edsa II; and while it is said that history is written by the victors, it must also be seen that she herself once encouraged what she now condemns.

But then, we are dealing with a government whose chief of police proudly proclaimed last Friday: “We have liberated Edsa.” From whom, you might ask? Why, from the people. It is a proud boast that Ferdinand Marcos once so badly wanted to make.

The Palace proclaimed a strange kind of victory: the kind that requires a continuing state of siege. It trumpeted the triumph of order and democracy-at the expense of liberty. It has substituted CPR, EO 464 and Proclamation 1017, for liberty, equality and fraternity. We are left with the bow-wow-wow, the yip-yip-yip, of a lapdog republic, in which Palace pets are all vying to paw and sniff at the Palace food and water bowl: and snarling at anyone questioning their position in the pack.

Cameraphone Photos

Sunday, February 26

The final dispersal

Kids from a graduation party watching events

Senator Magsaysay with the media

Saturday, February 25

Baby Cardinals at the Edsa Shrine

Friday, February 24

Crowd confronted by riot policemen


Makati Business Club prepares to march

Technorati Tags: Edsa, people power, Philippines

A lapdog Republic

Even when things get tense, we Filipinos never forget to pause and laugh. Two jokes sent me by text, illustrates this:

It seems d trouble started wen Gen Miranda wanted 2 go 2 d bathroom to relieve himself. Adm Dimayuga thought he was voluntarily asking 2 b relieved of his command.

And (from a pro-Arroyo friend):

Kaming mga pro arroyo are now known as as JARJARHEADS: I, Jar Jar Binks, vote to give the Supreme Chancellor emergency powers to deal with the separatist crisis.

The tradition of Filipino political humor, as a Philippines Free Press article from 1986 points out, is a venerable one.

My column for today is A lapdog republic. I’d also like to point out the columns of two fellow Inquirer columnists, Conrado de Quiros, who says, bluntly, Mrs. Arroyo is now a dictator, and Fr. Joaquin Bernas, SJ., who tackles what are constitutionally-permitted (and contemplated) emergency situations.

Much of the punditocracy remains concerned with the President’s actions (and those of her opponents). The Inquirer editorial, which begins on page 1 of the paper, calls for resistance against media control. Indeed, media is quite vexed. Fel Maragay, who by no stretch of the imagination can be considered anti-administration, is worried by the lack of media guidelines. Maria Ressa of ABS-CBN points out similar problems with the government’s announced policy. And just in case you thought only the usual suspects are concerned about government’s actions, the International Herald Tribune points out foreign observers are concerned, too.

In the blogosphere, The Bunker Chronicle explains why there’s so much suspicion -the government itself remains muddled about the proper message to massage. Newsstand describes how the press is engaging in pushing back: and that includes papers people normally accused (or praised) of coddling the administration..  Big mango points to the cause of an infinite crisis. Philippine Commentary produces mp3 recordings of Dong Puno’s discussion on the merits and demerits of Proclamation 1017. Apropos of the proclamation, Vincula gleefully points out a general’s perpetual Freudian slip. Cogito Ergo SAM noticed it, too. What fun.

and finally, an eloquent statement from the widow of Senator Jose W. Diokno:

Show Us Edsa

On July 2 last year, the Jose W. Diokno Foundation called on Mrs.
Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to step down from office. Today, on the 84th
birth anniversary of Pepe, we no longer address Mrs. Arroyo, who heeds
no one but herself and her coterie of advisers, and needs Proclamation
1017 to prop up her flagging government. We prefer to address our
people, whom Pepe so loved and with whom he struggled for a better
life.

On the matter of leadership, we say: Out of 80 million Filipinos, Mrs.
Arroyo is not the best we can produce. She does not even come close to
the best. But Mrs. Arroyo’s display of arrogance is not what disturbs
us, though I must admit it is irksome. It is, rather, the implicit
assertion that we deserve her kind of leadership—for our people do
not—and that there is no alternative to her, when there are. Remember
that martial law lasted as long as it did in part because some
accepted the notion of a so-called ‘lesser evil’.

We who have asked Mrs. Arroyo to resign from office are often
criticized for being disunited. So let us examine the sources of our
disunity. Clearly there is an element of distrust, that some in the
political opposition are out for their own ends just as some among
organized groups are perceived to have their own agenda. Suppose we
accept this to be a fact of our present political life. Is it
nonetheless possible for us to come together on the basis of certain
principles? I believe it is.

For example, we all want our elections cleansed of corrupt election
officials, cheating and other corrupt practices. We desire an
electoral process and system that will bring out new, good leaders who
have a fair chance of winning.

We do not want the constitution changed at any and all cost, in the
manner that Mrs. Arroyo and Speaker de Venecia know best. They make no
effort at subtlety in their attempt to subvert elections and remain in
power in the name of constitutional change.

Most of all, we reject the social inequity that our political system
feeds on. Using the poverty of the people against the people is the
worst, most painful crime of all.

So what is to be done? First and most immediate, we must not surrender
our civil liberties. Sometimes I think that martial law was effective
because it didn’t hurt enough people; the dictatorship selected its
targets skillfully and then isolated these targets from the public
view. A false sense of comfort thus resulted. Let us not allow
ourselves to be fooled again. One act of suppression, if unopposed,
makes possible other acts of suppression.

Second, let us seriously work out the bases of our unity and agree
that we cannot have all that we want now. This is a difficult task—I
know how hard Pepe worked to bring the opposition together during
martial law. But try and try again we must.

In all this I ask that we think of our youth and consciously cultivate
young leaders. We widows and veterans of martial law have reached the
pre-departure area; our knees do not allow us to line the streets and
march in protest. This is not just a world we are about to leave, but
one we will bequeath to our children, grandchildren and, in my case,
great grandchildren. Listen to 17-year old Jose Miguel Bermudez, a
freshman studying in Las Pinas, who wrote in the Inquirer’s ‘Young
Blood’ column. “Everyday of my life,” he says, “my teachers and my
parents admonish me to shape up. I think it is now my generation’s
turn to tell my parents and those who run this country that it is time
for them to shape up. They are being selfish and myopic when they
complain about the inconvenience and disruption caused by people
protesting against lying, cheating and stealing. They would rather go
about their regular business even if that means leaving many
fundamental and moral issues unresolved.” Talking about how these
issues will haunt the next generation, Jose Miguel asks: “Guess who
will be left to deal with this ghost when it returns? Guess who will
be left to deal with the ugly litter of an irresponsible and apathetic
generation that would trade their children’s future for short-term
convenience?” (7 February 2006)

My own grandson, Jose Lorenzo—we call him Pepe for short, who was born
a little over a year after Edsa, wrote in yesterday’s Inquirer: “We
relegate Edsa to these four days, we remember Edsa only when we feel
the need to and we kill Edsa…. It makes me angry that the revolution
to most of us has become a set of dates and actions that little
children memorize for Sibika. And I’m angry that most of what we’ve
read so far is about the events that transpired, and the generals and
politicians ‘who made Edsa happen’. Edsa is not about them. Edsa is
also more than the people who were there. It’s even more than the
leaders it ousted.” My other Pepe ends with a request: “I’d like to
ask a favor from you who were lucky enough to have felt the joy of
revolution. Don’t tell us about it. Show us Edsa. A lot of us don’t
even know what it looks like.”

So we who know, must show Edsa. But in this process of showing, I
advise our youth: do not be passive onlookers. Your job, like that of
my generation that is about to pass, is to constantly improve upon
what is shown and to never give up. This was Pepe’s dream of a nation
truly for our children, and it remains ours.

Carmen I. Diokno

La Salle Greenhills
26 February 2006

Technorati Tags: journalism, law, media, military, Philippines, state of emergency

A few hours after

I’m absolutely exhausted but will write this lest I forget everything. As my last entry indicates, around 3:30 p.m. yesterday (I’m writing this roundabouts 1 am today) journalists began exchanging texts that something was afoot at the Philippines Marines Headquarters in Fort Bonifacio. Journalist friends used to taking it easy on Sunday were recalled to do duty. The messages were contradictory and confusing: the Marines were uneasy, there was something going on, something was going to go on, a call for people to pray for them, or pray with them, was being made, people should go to Fort Bonifacio, people should not go, there were troops movements…

So off I went to Fort Bonifacio to see what was going on. Passing the route that takes you past Market, Market! it struck me as all so very surreal: people lining up to ride the large Ferris wheel, families flying kites, people off on Sunday drives loaded with weekend shopping -then the civilian world receded and it was long stretches of road with the gates to the camps dotting the landscape. Passing by the headquarters of the Philippine Army, one could spot some rather derelict trucks and jeeps carelessly blockading the gate; then a line of more derelict PA trucks, and on the wide, grassy sidewalks, Philippine Army troops sort of lazing about, but dressed in full battle gear with Armalites at the ready. Strangely enough, other soldiers, also in full battle gear, snoozed away on portable black mesh hammocks, or swung idly from side to side, one leg drooping over their hammock’s side.

By the time I got to Gate 3 (it seemed to me) of the Marines H.Q., it was obvious something was, indeed, afoot; and yet a polite couple of sentries still made the cars pause and took driver’s licenses and handed out car passes. Journalists and others stared at small groups of Marines, also in full battle gear, starting to line up and stand at attention.

Attention was focused on the Marines chapel, where a Mass was just starting. Going past it, one could turn and drive by a tennis court where, with all the tension going on, two young men were enjoying a game of tennis. A little past that, there was a kind of club house, and I stopped there and poked around. Outside the club house, there were young teenagers looking very uncomfortable in suits or frilly dresses: at first it seemed to me perhaps there was a wedding reception going on, and maybe they were part of the bridal entourage.

I went inside the club house, eavesdropping on some of the chatter going on. Apparently the original text message calls had evolved into a call for civilians to come to the Marines chapel, to pray for the safety of the Marines. A bartender switched on a television and news coverage began to blare out details, such as they were, on what was going on. I won’t go into what the news reports said, because they’ve been adequately covered by other bloggers. Suffice it to say that people began to huddle around the TV, as it began to be reported that Col. Querubin, from his previous location in the chapel, was marching to Head Quarters, surrounded by civilians. Great confusion followed, as a contingent of Marines materialized outside the HQ, an officer was heard to be shouting at the newly-appointed Marine Commandant, all sorts of armored vehicles started to roar up and park in front of the HQ: the atmosphere was getting more and more tense. Journalists forwarded text messages that yes, the Archdiocese of Manila had given permission for the chapel to be used for a prayer vigil, and no, the Archdiocese had ordered the chapel closed.

Outside the club house, I spotted Bro. Armin Luistro of the de la Salle Brothers walking with some other brothers and some nuns; they wanted to see what was happening in the HQ. They were quite worried about possible bloodshed and wanted to try to pray there. I gave them a lift; upon parking, we alighted from our vehicle, but Marines shooed everyone away from the vicinity of the HQ and out the main gate.

The Christian Brothers gathered in a circle with the nuns and began to pray the Rosary. Soon after they began praying, what I originally thought was a Philippine Navy 6×6 truck (perhaps it was Philippine National Police, as it would turn out), fully laden with sailors in riot gear, thundered out of the gate of the compound directly across the Marines’ facility, and jerked and shuddered to a stop after narrowly missing ramming through the Marine checkpoint. The truck belched smoke, it reversed gears, made a sort of snort-like but aborted attempt to push through again (the Marines came forward, yelled, raised their hands), reversed again and pulled over by the sidewalk. The blue-clad riot police descended with a great clattering of shields; some feints were made, as if they wanted to get into the camp. Then orders were barked, and the riot policemen formed a line directly in front of the Marines.

The riot policemen were obviously intent on dispersing the crowd. Marine sympathizers, kibitzers, and the rapidly proliferating members of media (a GMA and ABS-CBN remote van was parked on either side of the gate) started buzzing about how a dispersal would leave the Marine gate an easy target for entry. At this point, perhaps sensing this, the brothers and nuns sat down, in front of the riot policemen. They continued to pray, and from time to time, they’d sing. Every so often, the riot policemen would bang their shields together, and try to take a step forward. The media would press forward, expecting the nuns and brothers to be shoved aside; the riot policemen, seeing the nuns and priests weren’t about to budge, would fall back a step or two. The process kept repeating -for hours on end. The small group of brothers and nuns kept them at bay for at least two to three hours.

The foreign media recorded the hymns (“Ave Maria” particularly struck a French correspondent who began mumbling to someone in Paris and then put his phone near the singing religious); photographers crouched and wriggled to get photos of the religious clutching their rosaries. Darkness began to fall. Periodically, rumors of troops movements would send the correspondents and reporters buzzing; as would frantic calls from news desks to try to confirm what was going on inside. I shuttled back and forth between friends I knew in the crowd, and other clumps of people. Other times, I’d go to the ABS-CBN van to catch the news on their monitors; other times, I’d go to the GMA van, which had generously plunked a TV on the sidewalk, connected by an umbilical cord to their van. A lady was wheeled up in a wheelchair and proceeded to watch, giving a cluck-filled and spirited commentary on whatever happened to be on the screen.

Senator Ramon Magsaysay, Jr. appeared, chatted with the policemen, talked to the Marines at the gate, was surrounded by the media, disappeared, only to reappear sometime later. It was quite dark by this time, and he proceeded to discuss the need for peace and how this was all a sign of discontent due to the pervasive poverty of society; he praised the Marines, hoped it would all be settled peacefully, remarked the President was in an increasingly tenuous situation, and suggested she should consider going on leave to resolve the issues against her, or even resign. He disappeared again.

The riot policemen by this time (around 8 pm) had moved their front line forward, at times almost entirely encircling the brothers and nuns, who kept praying. I spent more and more time simply sitting across the street on the sidewalk, observing the scene, or spending time by the GMA van’s TV (by this time, the other side of the road had been sealed off, placing the ABS-CBN van behind the riot policemen’s line. Close to 9 pm, a group of teenagers materialized, dressed in suits and frilly dresses: it seems they belonged to the same group I’d spotted a few hours earlier, who’d had their graduation ball. They chirped and gossiped, scrutinized the riot policemen, and accosted a gentlemen they assumed to be part of the GMA crew and kept chanting, “Kapuso kami!” Then they’d run down their list of favorite shows and celebrities. Eventually, tiring of the scene, they left.

With no politicians or other people left to interview, some reporters drifted away to catch the action in the other gates. The news camera crews stopped taking footage of the policemen and the brothers and nuns. A couple of Army-looking officers strode past, reconnoitering the scene. A young Naval officer periodically walked back and forth, videotaping the crowd, paying particular attention to those who were clearly not from media. From time to time, rather befuddled-looking off-duty soldiers would putt putt by on their motorcycles, and be directed to detour into the police camp; jeeps bearing families would drive by, and if bearing military families, be diverted to the police camp or waved through. Surprising, too, was the constant stream of vehicles entering and exiting the Marine camp, requiring the adjustment of both the lines of Marines and the riot police.

At 10 pm came the information, whispered from ear to ear, that all civilians would have to leave. The riot police, beefed up substantially over the last half hour or so, began to push forward their line some more. By now, they crossed the road in a straight line from gate to gate. Then news that civilians at other gates had departed, and that the Marines had returned to military discipline. Civilians began to leave the vicinity of the gate. With a last burst of singing and praying, the nuns and brothers, their mission done, prepared to leave. And with a final clatter of their shields, the riot police began to move steadily forward, signaling that it was really time to go. I must say there were two Japanese journalists who were particularly intrepid, practically allowing themselves to be trod underfoot just to get good video.

As the last group of stragglers and journalists walked away, information kept being exchanged: there were tidbits about the goings-on within the Marine hierarchy; a discussion of what the Chief of Staff’s comments (the armed forces had to settle this in their own way, without interference from civilians and politicians) meant; what the Palace’s pronouncement that they’d leave the resolution of the crisis to the military meant; and whether it was true 3 senators and 15 congressmen were going to be rounded up. There were jokes about the presence of Imee Marcos, speculation as to what Mrs. Aquino hoped to achieve by praying the rosary, ongoing debates about what the Marines had actually set out to do.

For about half an hour, departing vehicles were held up, because no order had been given to let us through another gate, barricaded with trucks. Eventually, the order must have been given, and everyone who was a civilian went off into the night. It was one of those days that reminds me why I am not cut out to be a reporter: the long, hot, thirsty tedium of waiting -for news or even rumors- and then sudden bursts of activity and a frenzy of reporters and correspondents jockeying for an interview, a photo, video, or all three. Then more tedium, a creeping feeling of not being in a good position to really observe what was going on, then, the end -going home, exhausted, and still wanting to know more about what, exactly, had taken place. I think we still don’t fully know.

Incidentally, here’s:

TRANSCRIPT OF MEDIA PRESS FREEDOM PRESS CONFERENCE
FEB. 26, 2006 AT THE NEWSDESK CAFE

CALOY CONDE, NUJP: The position of the NUJP is we’re very alarmed
with what happened to the Tribune, casing of publications, deployment
of troops in TV stations, and unconfirmed reports na sinusundan si
Arnold Clavio.  We’re very alarmed.  Some of our colleagues are
wondering hanggang kailan ang ganitong atmosphere.  The NUJP is
enjoining our collegues and members of Civil Society to take a stand
on this issue -PD 1017.

DEAN LUIS TEODORO:  The PD 1017 is supposed to be merely a statement
of what’s going on, what Malacanang is saying.  But it seems to me
it’s going further than that.  The arrest of some members of
Congress and people who are allegedly involved in coup plots.  But
the most worrying of all is what happened to the Tribune yesterday.
I think it’s an assault to the free press and unconstitutional.
And the press should unite on the basis of freedom, press freedom is
under threat.  And we can see this from the statements of the PNP.
The statement that media organizations will be taken over unless they
hue to the standards that govt. has set.  I’m wondering what the
standards will be.  I am sure they are not talking about the
standards of accuracy, fairness, accountability and press autonomy.
I don’t think these are the standards they are talking about.  I
don’t know what they mean by standards.

MANUEL LUIS QUEZON III/PDI :  I think what we should point out is the
broad extent of the govt’s plans being implemented at present. PD
1017 has its implementing paragraph lifted word for word from PD 1081
which is a proclamation of Martial Law.  And for journalists, when
they lift the proclamation from a proclamation of ML, you see the
intent – that media is a threat to national security .  The govt.
is waging a campaign on a very broad front.  There are cases of our
brethren in the broadcast media being tailed or troops being deployed
in their premises.  The PCIJ blog is concerned because they say ther
content is being analyzed.  Radio is being made to prioritize govt.
spokesmen and fearful of dissenters.  Thus, your capacity to deliver
the news is being compromised because it is based on very unclear
rules.  The people who cannot write, edit, people whose main job is
propaganda are being tasked to impose on the media what counts as
fair news.  This, the public has not comprehended.  Media should
standby its cherished rights.  This is the beginning of the
systematic intimidation of media as in Martial Law days.  We have to
stop this before it reaches fruition.

LEAH NAVARRO: I am here as a citizen with the right to listen and
view news.  This the citizens of this country has enjoyed.  It’s
what we fought for: to get this freedom.&nb sp; I am appalled, along
with many of our other friends – civil society and people who
listen and read you, who go by the information that you give
everyday.  We are enraged and outraged at this return to the dark
ages of Martial Rule.  By any name 1081 or 1017, they are stiffling
our freedom.  What next?  The internet?  Censorship?  Are we going to
go back to the time when we have to cower under this fear.  So we
hope you will continue to fight for this right.  We will support you
because we cannot let our freedoms die.

CARL WILSON/FOCAP:  This all happened very quickly.  I am not
speaking on behalf of all correspondents.  The point is FOCAP grew
from martial law and I think press freedom at the end of the day is a
fundamental cornerstone of any democractic society anywhere in the
world.  At the end of the day, we have the same job.  We report
fairly, accurately.  I think what happens here, it’s the way this
story is being reported and carried overseas will have a massive
impact on how this government will be seen.  Thus, the job of the
correspondent is very crucial.  The job is fundamental.  We need to
report what we see.  If this is taken away..

JOSE CUCIDO/National President of CEGP:  Nangangamba ang CEGP sa
ganitong sitwasyon.  Kung nagagawa nila ito sa national papers, lalo
na sa campus publications.  Sa kasalukuyan, very critical ang campus
papers sa gobyerno.  So kung ginawa nila ito sa Tribune dahil
critical sa govt., mas kaya nilang gawin ito sa campus publications.
Meron kaming planned actions sa PD 1017.  Mananawagan po kami na ang
campus publications ay magsuot ng black t-shirt at mag noise barrage
sa harapan ng campus to condemn this.

RICKY CARANDANG/ANC: Its very clear that we are under threat.  These
are threats that we face overtly in front of us.  But I also say
watch your back beca use there are threats like advertising boycott,
libel suits that can be filed against some of us.  These are not
direct threats.  These are subtle threats and because of this we need
to adhere to the highest standards of our possession.  Let’s not
give them more amunition than they already have.

CONRAD DE QUIROS/PDI:  My feelings about this, I expressed in my
column tomorrow.  The title is “Dictator” I think we should not
be cowed with anything like this.  I relate in particular my
interview with Blas Ople where he told me that when Marcos declared
Martial Law, he didn’t think that it will take very long.  He never
thought that ML would last a low time.  But Marcos was so surprised
that nobody was resisting it , so tinuloy-tuloy na niya.  Our best
defense is just to do what we do at this time.

JIMMY ANTIPORDA/ REMATE/Alyansa ng Pilipinong Mamahayag: Ang laban
lang natin coverage.  Lalo tayong inaapi.& nbsp; So dapat magkaisa
tayo.  Kasi ang nangyayari ngayon, pati calls namin pinuputol nila.
Lahat tayo, dapat marami tayong pagpilian.

CALOY CONDE/ NUJP:  Regarding the hotline, we have not set up
anything for this.  But we have an existing hotline 411-77-68.

MANUEL LUIS QUEZON III/NUJP: The Achilles heel of media are the
owners of publications, TV and radio stations.  So you have to apply
pressure on your owners not to fold.  The first thing the Palace does
is to talk to the owners.

SONNY: Can we put our unity in black and white, establish a central
office where we can monitor breaches, monitor and protect our
colleagues.  Is it possible to make an audience with the President?

CALOY CONDE/NUJP: Maybe we can talk about a centralized
communication system for harm done to our colleagues.  So para
malaman yung mechanics diyan kung paano gawin.  So we can respond in
case something like what happened t o the Tribune happens again.

LEAH NAVARRO: Civil society groups have lawyers.  There is FLAG and
they are more than willing to help.  There is another group of
lawyers, apart from CODAW of Atty. Colminares.  I believe that this
lawyers’ groups will question the constitutionality of PD 1017 in
court.  Civil society will also help by spreading this issue.  So you
can continue to write about it.  We can inform via fora.  That’s
how we can help you.

ISAGANI YAMBOT/PDI:  We find it strange that on the 20th anniversary
of EDSA 1 which toppled the dictatorship, the nation is again in a
Martial Law situation or albeit in a disguised form.  This so-called
State of Emergency has all the earmarks of martial law.  The
President herself and her generals have said the situation is under
control.  So, where is the emergency situation?  What is the
justification for the State of Emergency.  If things are unde r
control then they can go after erring individuals or group legally.
The taking over of media publications is sending a chilling effect to
media men, although it is not sending a chilling effect to the
Inquirer.  Justice Secretary Raul Gonzales said the PDI is big fish,
they are only going after small fry.  So, if we are considered as
erring then they should proceed to go after us.  The law should be
applied equally.  We are also concerned that the police is setting
standards for the media.  What right have they?  Are they
professionally competent to do this?  We the media demand that we set
the standards for ourselves.  And as a matter of fact, we have set
standards for ourselves.  In the Inquirer, we have the Readerâ*™s
Advocate.  We have a manual.  We abide by the Code of Ethics for
Journalists, etc.  Also, there is the legal venue.  We have laws on
libel, inciting to sedition.  If the administrati on believes some
journalists have violated these laws, then they can use the law and
accord them due process.  Due process is basic to any democratic
society.  Or are we still a democratic society?  I think 1017 is a
case of overkill.  It should be overturned immediately so we can
return to a situation of calm.  If I remember correctly, the
President said she prefers a licentious press than a bridled one.
She said it was government policy.  She said this during the World
Press celebration in May 3 2002 at the ceremonial hall of Malacanang.
Sabi niya, we are known as a free press, a licentious press.  But we
would rather be known as a licentious press than a bridled one.  So
why does she want a bridled, suppressed press now?
The freedom of expression is perhaps one of the most important
freedoms we enjoy in a democracy.  When this is lost, all other
rights and freedoms go.  So, anyone who wants to be a dicta tor
suppresses this freedom of expression.  Thirty years ago, we lost
this freedom of expression.  I myself had to face clearance from
NICA.  They told me “Mr. Yambot, you are facing two criminal
cases.”  It turned out they were libel cases and this is normal for
journalists.  So I talked to E. Reyes of the NISA.  Today, we are
facing again the danger of losing this freedom of expression.  I
think we should all join together and resist this attempt to restrict
this freedom with all our strength and all our might.

CALOY CONDE/NUJP: The NUJP will continue to keep in touch with media
colleagues in the coming days.  We will communicate with groups and
determine what course of action we need to take.

JOEL EGCO/Manila Standard/ARM: First, definitely, the President’s
proclamation is testing the waters.  I am representing the ARM
journalists and we are now disarmed because they cancelled our PTCs.
Mas lal o tayong vulnerable ngayon.  Practically, we have no other
way to protect ourselves.  Marami sa kalaban natin sa media yung
Armed Forces and Police.  So, they are testing the waters.  So we
must not be cowed.  Let us move on.  The most dangerous thing na
mangyari sa scenario na ito, baka may third parties na mag-take
advantage ng situation na ito.  We support the NUJP in this effort.
We will press on with the fight.  If the need arises, each and
everyone of us have to strengthen our ranks.  We have to protect
press freedom no matter what the cost.

GANI CASTRO: May mga troops daw outside TV stations, pwedeng humingi
ng detalye.

RICKY CARANDANG/ANC:  I don’t know.  Kanina umikot ako sa ABS, wala
naman akong nakita.

ALLAN :  Parang yung mode of contention kanina ay what to do next.
Actually, walang banta e.  ACTUAL ITO.  Kailangan ba nating maghintay
na maulit iyong sa Tribune.  Hindi ito 1081, ito ay 1082.  Ang
sinasabi nila, ang kritisismo ay continuing crime.  Ang totoong crime
ay ang patuloy na pagtatakip ng katotohanan na hindi legitimate si
Gloria.  They use every possible means.  They destroyed the
institutions -NBI, DOJ.  Ngayon, media na ang ide-destroy nila.
Ngayon, si Lumibao, gusto niya maging publisher.  Sige, general,
bigay mo sa amin ang baril at kami ang mag-pe-peace and order.  This
is the darkest day of all time.

CALOY CONDE/NUJP:  Whoever wants to join this, please coordinate with
the people from NUJP.

SONNY :  Will this assembly demand the govt to rescind 1017 and stop
all forms of media harassment?

CALOY CONDE/NUJP:  Now, I think I speak for everybody that we want
this (PD 1017) to stop.

ISAGANI YAMBOT/PDI: Probably we can write a pooled editorial on this
issue and I’ll try to convince our editor to have this on p age 1
and I hope that the other publishers will do the same thing.

CALOY CONDE: The question of the pooled editorial is probably one of
the things we can discuss.  Drafting an editorial may take some time
but this is certainly what we will do.

CONRAD DE QUIROS: There was a pooled editorial in 1989 and I think
we can do another thing like that.  Just a couple of other things, I
agree that this is not a threat.  This is already a transgression
against press freedom.  They went after the Tribune kasi weak and
later go after the big ones.  I guess the best example is from a
quote of Bertolt Brecht.  If we don’t do something about the
Tribune situation and the arrest of people, tayo na ang susunod. I
think we should be prepared.  We should demand certain things. Our
best defense really is to do what we have been doing -this is a
matter of legitimacy.  President Ramos was right in this respect -
Cory Aquino was su bjected to so many coups but she never declared a
State of Emergency.

ISAGANI YAMBOT: Maybe we can draft a resolution

CALOY: The NUJP can draft that resolution and circulate it sa media.
We can demand the withdrawal of 1017.

RICKY CARANDANG: Flag is drafting a resolution

JIMMY DOMINGO, Phil. Center for Photo Journalism: Gusto naming
ipahayag na ang PCP ay nakikiisa sa pagkilos na ito para labanan ang
panunupil sa pamamahayag.

CALOY CONDE: The lady is saying some FOCAP members are finding it
hard to enter Malacanang dahil hindi daw sila member ng press corps
ng Malacanang.  The press corps of Malacanang is also complaining of
not being treated properly.

NOEL BARCELONA/ PINOY WEEKLY: Meron pagkakataon na mahirap mag-cover
pag hindi kilala ang dyaryo mo.  In behalf of Kapihan sa Cypress, we
support this move.  We are expressing the highest condemnation
against PD 1017.###

Technorati Tags: Blogging, journalism, media, military, Philippines

Pro, Anti, Indifferent

You know where I stand. Anti Arroyo. Edwin Lacierda gives a good summary of why we are where we are, as does Randy David in his column today. One thing is sure, as Ricky Carandang tartly puts it: Little Sister is watching. And yet, as Red’s Herring says, we still have to plead, shout, and demand that the nation wake up. In the darkness, people like Paeng are daring to light candles. But he remains a rare case of someone taking citizenship seriously. Philippine Commentary, who knows a thing or two of martial law, is beating the drums: but does it take former prisoners to warn of looming imprisonment of all? Must we rage, rage, against the dying of the light, as Vincula asks? Or are petitions, as The Public Thing proposes, one of the many acts of resistance that have begun?

Yesterday, Butch Abad said to us, “the democratic space is shrinking, and as it shrinks, the option for democratic, peaceful protest, resistance, and a resolution to this crisis is vanishing, too.” A Uniffors manifesto at the beginning of this most recent chapter in the Arroyo crisis calls for a common dedication to a democratic, post-Arroyo regime. Something Philippine Politics believes in, too.  Can such a dedication hold, in the face of what is, in essence, already government by a junta? A junta composed of the President, her cabinet, and the Philippine National Police.

The President provoked this: let there be no uncertainty about this. Even loyal allies such as Max Soliven, as Hillblogger predicted, cannot stomach her attempting to rule with an iron hand.

Yet there are those whose families are divided: Pulsar has an extremely engaging account of how he and his parents prevented his sister from joining the Ayala rally. I understand where he and his parents are coming from; I admire the passion of his sister.

And there are those who disagree: who are Pro Arroyo.

Salamankiero has several posts, though this summarizes his views quite well.

Go Figure echoes Solita Monsod. Pro-Arroyo by default, or simply discerning?

AlterNation101 proposes a boycott of media he considers partisan.
There are those supremely indifferent: notes from the peanut gallery is a perfect example.

There are those trying to keep a neutral view on what’s going on: Torn & Frayed; Filipino journalist big mango; and the Sassy Lawyer: but neither are they serving as propagandists of the present dispensation or its enemies. They remain proudly independent without being cowardly.

Meanwhile, there’s news that something is going on at Marines Headquarters…

Technorati Tags: media, military, Philippines, state of emergency

A call for solidarity

NATIONAL UNION OF JOURNALISTS OF THE PHILIPPINES
www.nujp.org <http://www.nujp.org>

Feb. 26, 2006

A call for solidarity

For a few years now, the global media community has acknowledged the
Philippines among the most dangerous places for journalists. In the
past two years, our country has been second only to Iraq in the number
of media killings. Philippine journalists have fought hard to roll
back the tide of violence. Today, however, the Philippine press faces
its strongest challenge.

In declaring a “state of national emergency,” President Gloria
Macapagal-Arroyo made media among her main targets. She and senior
aides warned of government takeover of media facilities considered
friendly to the political opposition.

Police have already raided the offices of the Daily Tribune, a
national daily. Armed men in civilian clothes have gone around the
offices of Abante, the country’s biggest tabloid. Police had earlier
arrested Randy David, a columnist of the Philippine Daily Inquirer,
holding the award-winning journalist and sociologist for five hours
prosecutors said there was no ground to charge him with any crime.

The government deployed troops to the compounds of ABS-CBN and GMA-7,
the country’s largest television networks. The government’s claim was
that the soldiers were protecting these stations from a potential
takeover by destabilizers.

Police have also declared that they would not hesitate to takeover
media entities found “aiding” the administration’s enemies. The police
also said they would soon release “standards” or guidelines that
journalists must follow and that investigators and prosecutors were
monitoring the news.

By the government’s definition, providing aid to Mrs. Arroyo’s enemies
includes interviewing opposition parties. In simple terms, the
administration wants media to present only the side of the embattled
government, using force and coercion to bend journalists to its
wishes.

Filipinos, journalists included, fought a long, hard battle to regain
democracy after two decades of tyranny. That Mrs. Arroyo timed this
crackdown on civil liberties with the anniversary of the Marcos
dictatorship’s fall only highlights her break with the democratic
aspirations of Filipinos. Even as she warns enemies of feeling the
full force of the law, Mrs. Arroyo flaunts constitutional guarantees
to free speech and expression and press freedom.

Leaders of Philippine society have spoken out against the government’s
iron-hand tactics. The Philippine journalism community has also moved
fast to unite against this grand assault on press freedom. Today,
(Sunday, Feb. 26), the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines
will lead various organizations and individual journalists in
protesting the crackdown on media. The Philippine media community
intends to send Mrs. Arroyo a strong message: We will not go gently
into the night.

We call on all our colleagues in print, broadcast and digital
journalism worldwide to support Philippine media in this dark hour.
Please add your voice to our protest. Let us collectively condemn the
crackdown on Philippine media and remind Mrs. Arroyo that no country
can be free to prosper if its media is silenced and cowed. You can
send protest letters to the government through the Office of the Press
Secretary at osec@ops.gov.ph, with facsimile number (632) 735-6167 or
deliver these to the nearest Philippine embassy and consulate. You can
send solidarity messages to the NUJP through its email address,
nujphil@gmail.com or post this on our website, www.nujp.org <http://www.nujp.org> .

National Union of Journalists of the Philippines

Technorati Tags: journalism, media, Philippines

Daily Tribune closed down

The Daily Tribune newspaper was raided and shut down today. Identified as having a pro-Estrada editorial position, the government was clearly after making sure it didn’t come out with a devastating issue on Friday’s events.

I share in this statement from Newsbreak:

Press Statement

    Twenty years ago, we regained our freedom of the press. Today, we
stand the risk of losing it.

    It is ironic that on the day we celebrate people power, a glorious
and festive moment in our history, we are reminded that our freedoms are
fragile. They can easily be taken away.

    We view the raid on Tribune, an opposition newspaper, with alarm.
It appears to signal the start of a crackdown on media organizations.

    We have always believed that repression is never the answer to a
critical press. We remind the authorities that a free press is a
cornerstone of a democracy. Without it, we cannot claim to be a
democratic country.

Marites Danguilan Vitug
Editor in Chief
Newsbreak Magazine
Tel 687-5523/25
E-mail: marites@newsbreak.com.ph
Cell phone 0918-9126615
     

And so, the crackdown continues.

I seriously propose that the BLAWggers start preparing a common position for bloggers who find themselves shut down for content found offensive by the government. I will give an example of the kind of harassment to expect: one I.T. professional has been falsely rumored to be behind fugitive Nick Faeldon’s website. That government people spread the rumor,despite it’s not being true, suggests they’re out to damage the reputations of those they can, even if they don’t go after them legally. The experience of the PCIJ when it had an entry affected by a court ruling, also comes back to mind. Colleagues believe that for lack of an appropriate law, the internet, as far as free speech or content offensive to the government is concerned, can’t be touched. But the existence or lack of it, of a law, is no guarantee of protection.

For those who wonder why I’m so intransigent (besides my obvious interest as a writer), do read a column I wrote soon after my father’s death in 1998:

Dwindling fears

Technorati Tags: Blogging, constitution, law, media, military, Philippines

A state of panic

A proclamation of a state of national emergency is nothing less, and nothing more, than the a proclamation of a state of mind, Rep. Teodoro Locsin, Jr. told me as we marched down Ayala Avenue towards a Ninoy Aquino monument guarded from the people by phalanxes of policemen on the 20th anniversary of People Power. I asked him what he meant. He replied that a presidential proclamation is a public expression of a president’s thinking, with a catalog of facts the president claims justifies that state of mind. “For this reason,” he explained, “it is beyond judicial review and dispute.” Why so, I asked. “Because we have the precedent of the Supreme Court when Marcos suspended the Writ of Habeas Corpus and later imposed martial law,” he said. “The Supreme Court said it is not a determiner of facts. Neither can it rule on a president’s state of mind.” For this reason, when the Supreme Court upheld President Marcos’s suspension of the Writ in 1971, Locsin’s father furiously condemned it: eight months later, he became one of the top ten prisoners of the dictatorship. Unlike me, Locsin is not an oppositionist; but he likes to think clearly. And he clearly sees that relying on judicial relief is a stab in the dark.

My view: the President’s proclamation of a State of National Emergency is, in reality, the concrete manifestation, in legal language, of a state of panic.

Opposition and even adventurism (on the part of the military) may be an inherent temptation, but digging in one’s heels isn’t an inevitable response to an incumbent: at least not on a wide scale. Yet it has become exactly that: unbending, inflexible, determined, and widespread. The President has only herself to thank for this state of affairs. It is increasingly impossible for decent people to keep tolerating her. A fellow columnist I encountered at the Ayala Avenue rally told us frankly that she originally had no intention of commemorating Edsa 1. But seeing the manner in which the government handled the anniversary, in particular seeing the brutalization of the public ordered the Palace, pushed her to join the march. There were many others there who felt the same way.

The face of the administration was reflected in the many faces people saw, yesterday:

1. Members of a divided armed forces confronting a possible coup, not by crushing it, but merely by rather gently detaining one alleged ringleader, while establishing a kind of modus vivendi with the rest. No one marched, publicly, against the administration, but no soldiers actively rose up to defend it, either. From the Chief of Staff on down to the major service commanders, we kept hearing that they were concerned with preserving “the chain of command” -while explicitly -and studiously- emphasizing the chain of command begins with the Chief of Staff, and not the President. This is, in a effect, a ringing rejection of their Commander-in-Chief. The armed forces has demonstrated itself ambivalent, at best, about their commander-in-chief. The President in turn demonstrated her increasing reliance on the police, just as Ferdinand Marcos increasingly relied on the Philippine Constabulary as a foil to the Philippine Army.

2. Determined groups hell bent on exercising what Filipinos view as part of their martial law heritage: public action through public protest; and a government reduced to what the dictatorship did, insisting public protest isn’t even a right, but a privilege. A new level of spontaneity was reached yesterday, when committed groups opposed in principle to Mrs. Arroyo found their ranks swelled by people joining their ranks -until they were dispersed by the police.

3. People appalled and disgusted by the Edsa anniversary being marked by official mistrust, even indifference, and a palpable fear. People shocked and resentful of a government that commemorated Edsa, not according to the traditions of Edsa, but more along the repressive lines of the regime Edsa brought to its knees.

4. The faces of Edsa were nuns and bishops forcibly prevented from reaching the People Power Monument; citizens bludgeoned and water cannoned at the Edsa Shrine; citizens clubbed and hurt in Santolan, Quezon City; in Makati City; Prof. Randy David arrested while in the midst of a hallmark of People Power protests -negotiating with the police. Then, David was bundled off to a military camp, deprived of his means of communications and thus, held incommunicado, prevented from seeing his lawyer or visitors for some time, and only released, late that night, after a massive hue and cry had ensued: otherwise, arrested on a friday, he could have been held without bail the whole weekend. The faces of Edsa were not just the red flags of various groups, it was the faces of leading members of the business community: Ramon del Rosario, Jose Cuisia, Bobby de Ocampo, Roberto Romulo, and many others, linking arms and defying a government ban on protests; it was the face of Cory Aquino determined to defy the ban on protests to simply lay a wreath at her husband’s monument, in the same manner she and millions defied the government to bury her husband.

5. The face of the anniversary was a public in confusion and mired in suspicion: periodically there were frantic text messages sent out. Were media outfits in danger of being shut down? At certain moments it even seemed, to some, that text messaging itself was either being impeded or simply shut down by the government; there were even protests from the provinces, where hostility to the President may be more contained: “why were we included in the state of emergency?”

6. The faces of journalists nation wide who are faced with the prospect that unless you are Max Soliven with wealth and influence, you are a target by the nature of the profession you’re engaged in: that you can be detained, arrested, imprisoned (as so many, all along, have been hunted down and shot), simply on the basis of what government decrees is its definition of “fair” and “factual” reportage or commentary. And that, even if you aren’t arrested outright, the vast resources of the state are going to be devoted to making sure intimidation discourages dissent or even decent reporting. It was about the Malacañang Press Corps evicted from the Palace, and the National Telecommunications Commission handing down an order last issued in 1989 when military rebels were rampaging in the streets: and yet ignoring, while radio, TV and cable operators turned pale, that the only ones rampaging in the streets were the police. Upon instructions of the government.

Yesterday, to me, was about waking up to early morning rumors of military action; of the action not taking place, but receding to demonstrate an armed forces disenchanted with a commander in chief that alternately coddles its ranks while insulting its sense of professionalism, while the public geared up to protest. It was about the thrill of hearing that Randy David was on the march, with 3,000 students, to stand up for a better life; it was about hearing -and watching- those marching being beaten up in Santolan, at the Edsa Shrine, and the People Power Monument. It was about the government, on the anniversary of Edsa, issuing a blanket prohibition of public protest!

Yesterday, to me, was about hearing the government follow up its blanket prohibition with a state of national emergency; and following that up by announcing that it was unilaterally withdrawing official recognition of the scheduled commemorations of Edsa 1. It had facilitated the plan to have Mrs. Aquino lay a wreath; now the wreath-laying would be forbidden. It was about deciding, as many others did, that what was originally planned as a sentimental recollection had taken on the characteristics of a necessary act of defiance. The government said that Edsa could not be commemorated, and that if a citizen insisted, the citizen could face arrest? Then go ahead, do you damnedest! It was about going to Ayala Avenue to see faces old and new, including quite a few who hadn’t marched in decades -yet were insisting that the time had come to march again. It was about the kind of electricity one only experiences in a rally; the rediscovered shared principles, the surprising company one finds one’s self keeping, the discovery there may be more that unites than divides. It was about seeing my mother, a prudent person, politically, out with volunteers a quarter of her age, because the Red Cross (whose volunteers she trains) had deployed its volunteers because of the danger of so many people possibly getting hurt.

Yesterday was about linking arms with poor people, rich people, normally politically indifferent people and activists, people with views different from my own but who, at least, aren’t cowardly collaborators or simple-minded apologists of the current dispensation. It was about moving forward along Ayala Avenue at time inch by inch, foot by foot: seeing, every few meters, the policemen menacingly blocking our way. At one point, I was an arm’s legth away from batons being aimed at us from behind riot shields; and then cheering as the shields retreated, only to regroup. It was about feeling a particular kind of fury, at seeing ordinary policemen being given the extraordinary mission of defending Ninoy’s statue from the homage of his widow.

The policemen, after repeated negotiations, gave way -but their orders from the start were clear. After Cory Aquino went home, and darkness descending on the throng, the policemen came back -and chased the protesters away.

Yesterday was about replying to a friend who is pro-administration, and with whom I normally maintain civil relations despite our political difference, who texted me that he admired the President for “firm response to all this tiresome noise,” with a slogan adapted from the days of the dictatorship. I replied to him: “Marcos, Hitler, Arroyo, Diktador! Tuta!” And I meant it.

Yesterday was about not writing in this blog, but going out, instead, to see and feel the effects of an Official State of Panic. It was about coming home, dead tired, in order to rest for a Mass at the Edsa Shrine later this morning. I have been strong in my condemnations of what’s going on, whether on Channel News Asia or in a podcast interview by the San Francisco Chronicle; I have no choice. As the untranslatable phrase goes,

“Bastusan na.”

Technorati Tags: constitution, Edsa, journalism, Marcos, media, military, people power, Philippines, red cross

The Middle faces extinction

A complete revolution is my column for today. It’s my appreciation of what Edsa really meant and accomplished.

Today, I will be participating in a full-day retreat by the so-called “middle forces,” to reflect on where it has gone since 1986, and where it is headed. This is the outline of the remarks I’ve been asked to deliver:

How did we come to this?

Alran Bengzon, 1986: where have the the middle forces gone? Chasing privilege in the corridors of power.

Complicity in martial law never examined; absolution assumed in 1986

No purge was undertaken

No reeducation took place –confused children with propaganda textbooks suddenly outmoded, but never fully purged

The gains never went beyond the rhetorical, there was a lack of self-sacrifice

Middle Forces did not recognize their rejection by the people not once, but thrice:

In 1992, Danding & Imelda
In 1998, with Erap
In 2001, with Edsa Tres, when the middle forces were reduced to fleeing to San Beda, and a hollow re-occupation of the Edsa shrine took place

In all the above, the middle forces forget a central lesson of the efforts from 1983-1985: unity; there was a proliferation of candidates, but only one candidate for the other side.

We are here because a central attribute of democratic self-governance is self-control. The lack of self-control brought Marcos and Estrada down; it led to Cory foregoing historic opportunities, but has salvaged her post-Edsa reputation; it meant Ramos for all his defects, can live in a residual afterglow to his presidency –a presidency in which the middle forces had nothing to do.

What are our options?

A wider gulf exists between the middle and the people; the debate indeed, involves whether the middle even really exists anymore. Cory Aquino and Tito Guingona have apologized to Erap, who is more than a person, he is a constituency. It has not done so to the broader public.

In the public’s eyes, we are a faction, merely one of many competing in the same traditional way for the traditional spoils. Because of this, we lack the ingredients for seizing the imagination of the people: credibility, the ability to communicate, a leader.

We are faced with wanting reforms, without a national consensus existing for those reforms. Or even recognizing that a national consensus, for it to be effective and thus, acceptable, requires the consensus to be broad.

We are flirting with what we rejected during martial law, opposed during the 1987 and 1989 coups, what we shrugged or laughed off in 2003. We are making accommodations, rationalizations, because we are faced with what the traditional political class faces: extinction.

I submit we have not learned from our history since 1986, because the lessons are too painful. I submit that in desperation we are embarking on adventurism. A simple issue has been complicated by us; the painful and probably unsatisfactory solution, because it would mean only the beginning, and not end of our labors, is to give the people what they want: a president they themselves chose. We have so many problems with this, because we have proven an incapacity to influence that process since 1986.

Our option? Pull back from the brink, cease and desist flirting with the idea of change through armed might; but to do so requires our consecration to the idea that we are not in this for power or its perks.

Technorati Tags: Edsa, military, people power, Philippines

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