I |
n
1986, when massive streets protests drove Ferdinand E. Marcos away from Malacañang Palace, the official
residence of the Philippine president, Chavit Singson was Provincial Governor
of Ilocos Sur and Erap Estrada was Municipal Mayor of San Juan, Metro Manila.
Both Chavit and Erap, who had been friends for close to two decades by then,
swore to each other to remain in their respective posts when Cory Aquino, the
“housewife” who succeeded Marcos as President, began swatting away the
incumbent elective local officials, like political flies, throughout the
country.
“They
are freeloaders,” said Aquilino “Nene” Pimentel, Jr., the new Local Government
Secretary of the Cory Aquino government, in reference to the “overstaying”
officials.
“Hindi tayo bababa sa pwesto,” Erap
assured Chavit over a glass of whiskey.
“Over
my dead body, pare” Chavit replied.
After
two weeks, Erap relinquished his post, and Chavit did the same after another
two weeks. There was no bloodshed, either in San Juan or in Ilocos Sur.
Erap
went on to become a Senator a year later. Chavit reclaimed his seat at the
Ilocos Sur Provincial Capitol in 1988.
Erap’s
election to the Philippine Senate in 1987 was eye-catching. He was the lone
survivor among opposition senatorial candidates. None of his party mates could
quite withstand the “Cory Magic” like he did. At that time Cory was so popular
that, pundits chuckled, her endorsement could make even a dog win in an
election.
In
the Senate, Erap liked to trip Nene, a fellow neophyte senator, on the floor
whenever there was an opportunity for it.
“Would
the distinguished gentleman from San Juan yield to a few clarificatory
questions?”
With
that standard line, Nene opened his interpellation of Erap (sponsoring his pet Kalabaw Bill).
“With
pleasure, Your Honor,” also a standard line. But Erap would add a novelty: “And
thank you for removing me from my post in San Juan, my being jobless forced me
to to run for the Senate.”
But
being member of an exclusive 24-member club melted the icy-cold alibi of
distance. Being senator had its feel-good effect. Lots of it. Probably good
enough for one to see value in the other. In time Erap and Nene became mag-kumpadre and, from the looks of it,
perhaps friends.
“The
President was kind enough to invite me as one of the sponsors in Jinggoy’s
wedding,” Nene recalled. Jinggoy, Erap’s son with wife Loi and who would also
rise to become senator, wed Precy Vitug in 1989. (Among Roman Catholic church
members in the Philippines—who constitute around 80 percent of the
population—being a sponsor in at least three of seven sacraments of the faith,
such as marriage or matrimony, entitles one the privilege of being kumpadre (male) or kumadre (female) of the parents receiving the sacrament.)
“I
returned the compliment when Koko,” Nene’s son, and now also a senator, “wed
Jewel Lobaton, a former Miss Binibining
Pilipinas Universe titleholder, in January 2000 with Erap as principal
sponsor,” Nene said.
When
Erap became president, media played up an anecdote about Nene’s “No ID, No
Entry” experience at the Palace. The senator was subjected to a rigid security
check by the presidential guards. Nene felt slighted by the treatment. “But
except for that small incident,” he said, “I have no complaints about the
President.”
Erap
explained that in his administration, the rules equally applied to everybody,
whether they were messengers or senators. After all he promised in his
inaugural speech that friendship and kinship would not influence his official
functions. Getting through the palace gates had never been easy—something which
Erap highlighted in his plunder trial 4 years later to bring home the point
that jueteng collectors could not
just freely see him in office, much less deliver to him bundles upon bundles of
jueteng money. Of course, after a
while, the members of the so-called “Midnight Cabinet” who freely roamed the
palace grounds at nighttime would also become public knowledge.
But
let’s not move too fast. Let’s get back to when his political star was still on
the rise.
It
was easy to say Erap had his own political magic. Adored by the Filipino
masses, the lone oppositionist in the Senate had likewise attracted allies from
outside the supposedly “dumb masa”—as
former Supreme Court Justice Isagani Cruz called it—social class. One of them
was colleague Orly Mercado, another Cory-backed senator. Together, they quietly
started plotting Erap’s way to the top. An emerging two-member political party
got around to casting and re-casting its tentative shapes.
The
Erap-Orly political semen eventually sired the birth of Partido ng Masang Pilipino, or PMP.
In
1990, the PMP had 2 members. In 1991, it had 21 members. In 1992, it bagged the
second highest office in the Philippines.
Fielding
Erap as candidate for Vice President in that year’s national elections, the PMP
rose to become a socio-political magnet and its lead character having earned
the tag of “Cinderalla of Philippine politics,” as a Philippine newspaper
editorial put it. He won the vice presidency. He was on his way to the top.
Eddie
Ramos—FVR to many—Cory’s trusted Armed Forces Chief of Staff and later National
Defense Secretary, succeeded her at the throne.
Like
many of those who comprised the “schooled” segment of Philippine population,
Eddie was not fond of Erap, but both being choices of the electorate, FVR had
to co-exist with the Vice President. He proceeded to create a customized office
for Erap.
And
so it happened that, from 1992 to 1997, Erap was Chairman of the Presidential
Anti-Crime Commission (PACC). Erap came to be known as anti-crime czar. He
found lots of action in the job and relished it, although he hardly showed the
same level of enthusiasm when it was time to break down issues of national
interest.
In
a letter to Philippine Daily Inquirer editors, Nick Lagustan, then FVR’s
spokesman, said: “Vice President Estrada attended most of the (cabinet)
meetings, even if he habitually left the Cabinet Room well before adjournment,
leaving his chief of staff, Robert Aventajado, to take notes.”
From
the image he developed in the movies as champion of the oppressed and refuge of
the downtrodden, Erap seamlessly transitioned to being the real deal, one who
was on top of restoring order in the crime-infested streets of Manila.
And,
as in the movies, this role needed a supporting cast.
At
PACC, Erap put together an elite team of law enforcers led by now senator
Panfilo “Ping” Lacson. Referred to by his band of operatives as “71”—being a
member, along with fellow senator Gringo Honasan, of class 1971 of the
Philippine Military Academy, Ping had a solid account of his work in the field.
He
had been a Philippine National Police (PNP) Provincial Director since 1988
(with stints in the provinces of Isabela, Cebu and a few months in Laguna). “I
gladly accepted the offer to join PACC since I was not happy anyway with my
Laguna assignment,” Ping said in a 2009 speech delivered on the Senate floor.
Nevertheless,
the urge to look good had put the life and limb of otherwise innocent
by-standers at risk. Barely a month in their posts, PACCmen murdered Elmer and
Jeffrey Pueda, Luis Matro and Leonardo Montalvo, according to a congressional
report.
Three
months later, PACCmen—having bungled a rescue attempt involving two kidnap
victims (scions of wealthy Filipino-Chinese families) in which Galicia gang
members, the suspected kidnappers, killed the victims, and pressed to make
amends with the shocked and hurt Filipino-Chinese community—hunted down in
Batangas the perpetrators, only to bungle it one more time when they tagged the
wrong man, erroneously killing Wilfredo Aala, an overseas contract worker.
PACC
also matched the methods of criminals. If the Galicia gang could kill two youngsters
to get what they wanted, PACCmen—and specifically Ping—could cause the death of
a mother and her child to force innocent people to reveal information, if
Jinggoy and Kit Mateo, one of Ping’s former aides, were to be believed.
In
2009, Jinggoy released a video of the bed-consigned Kit Mateo—gasping with his
last few breaths—in which he said (and as reported by ABS CBN News.com) that
“Lacson … ordered the murders of a … woman and her 8-year-old daughter by
throwing them out of a helicopter, which was flying near Corregidor Island. He
said the two were relatives of then Red Scorpion Gang leader Joey de Leon and
were killed after they refused to tell Lacson the whereabouts of de Leon.”
In
1995 PACC figured in a major controversy. Its operatives gunned down 11
suspected criminals in what official records said was a “shootout.” Subsequent
investigations, however, including the one conducted by the Philippine Senate,
have raised the possibility that the casualties were victims of “rubout” rather
than shootout.
Despite
suspicions that PACC was taking shortcuts in dealing with suspected criminals,
Ping became the new darling of a crime-weary public, especially when his
operatives killed Joey de Leon, the reported leader of the dreaded and
notorious Red Scorpion gang. This bandit reportedly victimized with alarming
regularity wealthy Filipino Chinese businessmen.
No
wonder Ping would soon be the toast of the Chinese community in the
Philippines. His boss, Erap, the Vice President, basked in the limelight even
more.
Although
Erap, as crime-czar, had been criminally charged for the death of a number of
people, some of which were PACC’s victims of either mistaken identity or
summary executions, people in general did not care. For one, he was too popular
to be trashed by public opinion. For another, Ping and his PACCmen were seen,
as one gang leaders fell one after the other, as putting their lives on the
line in the service of peace and order. And still for another, the criminal
cases against Erap were settled out of court as soon as they were filed, using,
in some instances, private funds.
Erap
ran away with the win as Presidential candidate in the 1998 elections. He
received 43 percent of the total vote. Up to that point, no other presidential
candidate has enjoyed such an overwhelming mandate.
No comments:
Post a Comment