Sunday, August 19, 2012

University of the Philippines: (UP) Diliman During the Early Seventies


The Setting

I entered the University of the Philippines as a disoriented journalism freshman in June 1971. The dark clouds of martial law gathered in the horizon, but I was excited, not worried. UP was it because I knew I could pass the UP College Admissions Test (UPCAT), the tuition was cheap, and because of the allure of activist politics. The UP campus was a bustling center of the Philippine corps politique, and being in the thick of things excited me and gave me pride. The spirit of the times portended a black denouement in Philippine democracy, yet Filipinos were easy going enough to indulge in movies, television, and basketball. 

I remember Nora Aunor and Tirso Cruz III ruled the box office with their all-time top-grosser Guy and Pip. In this movie, Tirso sang “Maria Leonora Theresa,” while Nora sang her philosophical  “Song of My Life.”  Nora’s biggest hit that year was “Pearly Shells.” Nora also made a film with senatorial son Victor Laurel, a syrupy musical called Lollipops and Roses. The number one movie by Vilma Santos and Edgar Mortiz was Sweethearts, which featured their hit song “I Love You Honey.” George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” was the most popular foreign song, followed by Tony Orlando’s “Knock Three Times.” The most watched foreign film was “The French Connection,” starring Gene Hackman.


Tirso Cruz III and Nora Aunor were the
dominant force at the box-office, with their mega-hit "Maria Leonora Theresa"
whose gross receipts remain unsurpassed up to today even in 2016 pesos

Ariel Ureta and Tina Revilla

On television, Sonny Cortez and Millie Mercado sang “The Sugar Song” medley for a night time commercial on KBS Channel 9. Jose Mari Velez was anchoring for ABC Channel 5’s 9 pm news program, “The Big News.” My favorite noon-time show was Twelve O’clock High on ABS-CBN Channel 2, starring Ariel Ureta and Tina Revilla. I remember Ariel Ureta introducing the Apo Hiking Society on his program. 
"Twelve O'clock High" starring Ariel Ureta and Tina Revilla, was my favorite noontime show

Before this show, ABS-CBN televised live the sessions of the Philippine senate and congress, and I enjoyed listening to the speeches, especially those with thick Visayan accents. After Twelve O’clock High, I watched “My Favorite Martian” on Channel 9, starring Ray Walston and Bill Bixby. In basketball, the Meralco Reddy Kilowatts won the Manila Industrial Commercial Athletic Association (MICAA) basketball championship against the Tom Cowart reinforced Crispa Redmanizers, in a heart-stopping finals game.

Internationally, the Cold War was still on, but the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT) offered hope in Helsinki.  The US was warming up to China through Ping-Pong diplomacy. It was slowly disengaging from Vietnam, with Le Duc Tho bargaining a peace agreement with Henry Kissinger in the Paris Peace Talks, only for the negotiations  to collapse later on. In boxing, Joe Frazier had just beaten Muhammad Ali for the first time. 

In local politics, two grenades would decimate the Liberal Party leadership that August, and President Marcos would reduce our liberties the same month.  But I was sixteen, and not taking life that seriously. I had some family responsibilities, like cutting grass in our yard on weekends. This young man was planning to take up law in UP. My father, an unassuming municipal judge in Malolos, Bulacan, wanted me to become an attorney, and I agreed.



In international relations, the most significant development was
the China-US rapprochement via "Ping-pong Diplomacy" photo from http://cdn.history.com/sites/2/2016/04/Nixon_Mao_1972-02-29.png


UP Campus in the Early Seventies 
UP was essentially the same, but I won’t forget the things that made it different, endearing, and the UP of my youth. For starters, UP Diliman was not called that. It was just called UP. We knew we were in Diliman Quezon City, but the UP Diliman brand had not stuck yet.  The Ikot jeeps were already there, but the fare was a paltry 5 centavos. In those days, buses, and not jeepneys, connected the campus to the outside world, which to us were Manila, Makati, and Cubao. However, there was a jeepney line, just as today, called Kanto-Katipunan that took you to Aurora Blvd via Katipunan Avenue, where you could hop into jeepneys that just left Marikina, for the short trip to Cubao. 

The buses belonged to the JD, MD, MD-CAM, and DM lines. They had their terminals near Maryknoll College in Katipunan Ave., and entered the campus through a road that now serves as the parking lot of the College of Business Administration (CBA). Back then there was no concrete wall separating Katipunan Avenue and this road. The JD, MD, and MD-CAM buses were relics of the Fifties and were largely made of wood and painted red. There was a single broad black and white stripe which prominently carried their logo and which horizontally bisected their sides. 

You knew that the JD buses had seen their days, but they were very clean and well maintained.  The interiors were regularly repainted and swept of garbage and dirt before every trip.  The well starched khaki and pink uniforms of the driver and conductress, respectively, spoke well of the company. The diesel engines ran smoothly, judging by their sounds. On the other hand, the DMs were dirty, lumbering steel hulks that shook and rattled like hell, and belched a lot of smoke. The driver and conductor were no less unkempt.  The DM buses sported white paint, but lack of washing rendered them a really dirty white. 

The JDs took you from the campus and Quiapo and vice versa. The MDs and MD-CAMs brought you to a good portion of Taft Avenue and back. The DMs also plied the UP-Quiapo loop, but their units also served the UP-Ayala Avenue route, passing through EDSA. To give you an idea of the fares they charged, a UP to Quiapo trip cost about 20 centavos. Travel time was a lot faster, because of the much lighter traffic. For example, a trip from Diliman to UP College Padre Faura lasted a maximum of 30 minutes. Cross-registering in courses in the future UP Manila was therefore very practical for Diliman students.


Palma Hall with activist slogans posters adorning the roofdeck. photo from
http://www.arkibongbayan.org/2011/2011-02Feb01-DilimanCommune/dcfeb1.htm

College of Arts and Sciences

There were no security guards at the building entrances in Diliman. Vendor boys selling turon and lumpia in baskets wandered the College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) premises freely. The 3-inch turons and lumpias were excellent, and sold for 10 centavos each. If you wanted a blue book, a “Bic” ballpen, a sandwich and coke, a cigarette or whatever, you can buy from a small hut within CAS called the “Coop,” which was located near the meeting point of the covered “AS Walk” and one of the CAS entrances. As you enter this door, you immediately see the Tau Rho Xi fraternity “tambayan,” or hanging-out place. In those days, organizations were allowed to have their “tambayans” inside the college.

The acacia trees around the academic oval were not as tall as they are today. The “cathedral effect” that happens when today’s branches from opposite sides of the academic road touch each other had not yet been achieved.  The acacias were planted around 1949, and in 1971, they were just over 20 years old, and were therefore juvenile trees. The term “academic oval” itself was not yet in use, and there were very few joggers. Jogging would take many years more to become a fad.


Activist art posted on Palma Hall first floor lobby. It was done by Nagkakaisang Progresibong Artista or NPA. Photo from http://www.arkibongbayan.org/2011/2011-02Feb01-DilimanCommune/dcfeb1.htm

The Sunken Garden

The Sunken Garden was the same as now, and was the main attraction of the academic area. Urban legend had it that it sank a few inches every year.  Then as now, it shared the reputation with the university lagoon as a place for lovers in the wee hours of the evening and morning. Then as now, there was a “grandstand” that lorded over it, facing the back of the Main Library, and serving as a viewing platform for parades, concerts, and festivities.  

The Main Library or Gonzales Hall, too, was the same then as now, save for the fact that the College of Fine Arts was housed in its top floor. Gonzalez Hall was named after the University’s sixth President, Bienvenido M. Gonzalez.  Especially during the final exam week, I would have my lunch by buying sandwiches at two vending machines located at the right side of the building. We called this place “Vendo.” It was near the entrance to what was then the University Press. 

Other present-day Diliman structures that were already there include: the Carillon, the tennis court, the Beta Way, and the four old buildings comprising the colleges of arts and sciences, law, education, and engineering. Of course, that Guillermo Tolentino masterpiece, the Oblation, was already there. Unlike today, however, the Oblation then faced a simple trimmed lawn with some plants, a far cry from today’s garishly lighted fountain. I must submit that the academic oval was not as scenic as today.   The Faculty Center (FC) was a relatively new building, having been constructed in the late Sixties. At an elevated spot at the back of the FC was a cozy shack of a kitchenette called JC’s, where lunch and dinner were served. I remember their exceptional tocino, whose thick red sauce was a perfect accompaniment to hot, steaming rice.


The Plaza Miranda Bombing on August 21, 1971 was the centerpiece of Philippine political events in 1971, my freshman year in UP.. It happened during the proclamation rally of the Liberal Party. Two days later, President |Marcos suspended the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, causing many youth activists to go underground. 

University Avenue

The University Avenue looked pretty much as it does today. The Doña Auroras, coconut trees, and walk paths at its fringes, the neatly trimmed “Santan” hedges, and the “palmeras” that lined the middle island were already there. The two waiting shed roofs near its intersection with Emilio Jacinto street, that looked like futuristic spaceships, were already pointing to the sky. 

Also, the bridged fish pond with the statue of a bent over bathing girl, and the adjoining imitation sculpture of Rodin’s “The Thinker,” by Ildefonso Cruz Marcelo were there. Its twin statue, "Captivity," lay directly across the avenue.  At the end of the University Avenue, just outside the campus gate, and where today stands a Petron gas station, stood a very popular eatery named Butterfly Restaurant. This restaurant was a former haunt of golfers because the vast green spaces engulfing University Avenue had been a golf course in the Fifties and Sixties.

If the student really wanted an inexpensive lunch, then Vinzons Hall was the way to go. At lunchtime, the University Food Service (UFS) had a huge dining hall at the back of Vinzons, where for less than a peso, one could buy two cups of rice and one dish, or “ulam.” There were a number of times when, having no lunch money, I sneaked past the cash register and stole a meal. Near the Vinzons Hall lobby, the UFS also ran a Diliman institution called The Grill Restaurant.  It has survived the vicissitudes of the years, including a near abolition of the UFS. It is still there up to this time.

The University Avenue as it appears today.
  
The Grill sold brewed coffee for 30 centavos, and mini-hamburger sandwiches for 40 centavos. The mini-burger patties were obviously filled with extenders, but they were delicious nevertheless, with a profuse dressing of a mayo and ketchup mixture. Sometimes, when my allowance ran short, I would just pay for the bread, and the attendant would throw in the mayo and ketchup spread for free. The Grill also sold excellent cinnamon rolls which went well with Coke or coffee. Fraternities, sororities, groups, or barkadas could make endless noise in The Grill ----the UFS did not mind.  It opened at about 7 in the morning and closed at about eight in the evening.

The Hilton

Across a street from Vinzons Hall, where the College of Business Administration now stands,  was an old, dimly lit, and dilapidated building the students sarcastically christened The Hilton. Before the UP Shopping Center (Shopping, or SC) was constructed in 1977, The Hilton was the center of commerce in the campus. Every student-related good and service could be bought here at very low prices. There was a barber shop, restaurants, a tailoring shop, and school and office supplies. 

I had my first haircut in the campus at The Hilton, and the barber was the indomitable Mang Freddie, the famous UP barber on crutches. I recently learned that he passed away some three years ago.  However, there were no internet and copying shops that dominate today’s SC, as the science was a good 15 to 20 years away. In any case, we all loved The Hilton, because in those days, poor was in and rich was ironically déclassé. UP’s The Hilton was our generation’s way of rejecting things bourgeois, and what better way than lampooning  the brand of the country’s premier hotel?

The University Gym was located at the back of the College of Law, or in Front of the UP Law Center, depending on where you stood. It was as big as today’s gym, and its men’s bathroom had common showers, which I was hesitant at first to use. Today’s gym goes by the fancy names of College of Human Kinetics or SPEAR. In those pre-hype days, we just called our gym the “gym,” where the Physical Education (P.E.) department held office. 

University Infirmary

Every registration period, its vast wooden floor space, which could contain several basketball courts, was converted into a maze which students negotiated to get their papers or “Form 5s” processed. At the end of this maze, right after the assessment station, UP identification cards were pressed and printed by that old and reliable Polaroid machine. I took my first P.E. subject in this gym, a Monday-Wednesday class called “Elementary Basketball,” which was handled by a certain professor whose surname was Perez.

One of the unnerving experiences I had as an incoming freshman was the group physical examination in the University Infirmary. I would later learn that the UP Infirmary was derisively nicknamed “Infirmatay” by the community because exaggerated rumors had it that no sick person ever came out of it alive. The intimidation started when the doctor made us drop our underwear one by one for, I hoped, a cursory examination of our private parts. This was something I had never done before. What made it really embarrassing was that I showed myself not just to the doctor, but to other male freshmen.


The red JD buses took you from the UP Campus to Quiapo and back. They took a lot of student
demonstrators from the campus to Welcome Rotunda, where the march to Quiapo would begin. The motivating issue during the Diliman Commune was rising fuel prices, which would adversely affect  the income of the bus drivers.


Another bus line that plied the UP Balara-Quiapo route was DM Transit.
They had these lumbering hulks which belched a lot and jarred one's bones like no other.
They were considered "sosyal" (upscale) back then.

What took the cake, however, was when the doctor scrutinized the details of my manhood in the ogling presence of my fellow freshmen! This doctor, I thought, had brought peer reviewing to a new level. After this discomfiting UP rite of passage, the next episode of my Diliman odyssey, the x-ray session , was a breeze. 

We were told to line up outside the X-ray room. Next, we were called one after another to enter. When my turn came, the radiologist told me to press my chest against an uprightly rectangular white plastic screen which amply framed my torso. He then asked me to inhale, elevate my shoulders, and hold my breath. Before turning the huge and menacing x-ray machine on, he shouted “Hold it!” in a melodiously pleasant way.   

The Diliman Commune and Student Council Elections

Memories of the fabled Diliman Commune were still very fresh, as it happened just four months earlier. Signs of the Commune were all around: heaps of damaged classroom chairs which had served as barricades, haphazardly painted huge red graffiti extolling the Commune on the College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) walls, and printed manifestoes and propaganda posters still glued on the same walls. The February 1-9, 1971 occupation by the radical left of the UP campus was named such to honor the Paris Commune, whose 100th anniversary was being celebrated that year.


The Diliman Commune of February 1-9, 1971 was inspired by
the upcoming 100th anniversary of the Paris Commune of  March 26-May 28, 1871.
Here shown is a barricade on a street in Paris put up by Paris "communards." Photo from https://todayinhistoryblog.wordpress.com/2014/05/21/may-21st-1871-bloody-week-begins/
There was an election scheduled that August for the hotly contested seats in the UP Student Council. The incumbent council chairman was Ericson Baculinao, who belonged to the radical party. The College Dean of CAS was geology professor Domingo C. Salita (whose nickname was, appropriately enough, "Speak") and the Dean of Students was the respected activist dean Armando J. Malay. They were overseeing the elections. I remember that the semester had barely begun when the first room-to-room (RTR) campaigning began.





The walls of Palma Hall during my freshman year. These damaging graffiti cost Reynaldo Vea the elections. The voters were so scared they voted Manny Ortega student council chairman. Photos from http://www.arkibongbayan.org/2011/2011-02Feb01-DilimanCommune/dcfeb1.htm 

A hallowed UP tradition, the RTR allowed candidates on the hustings to interrupt classes to speak to the voters. Oftentimes, entire line-ups would speak, eating up 15 to 20 minutes of the class.  The heat of the campaign was understandable: in those days, the chairman of the UP Student Council enjoyed celebrity status who shared the same billing on TV talk shows as famous and infamous government officials. The editor-in-chief of the official student publication, The Philippine Collegian was nationally famous and respected as well.  

There were two parties fielding candidates for the elections. The radical or leftist party was called “Sandigang Makabansa” (SM) and had Reynaldo “Rey” Vea from the College of Engineering as its standard bearer. The moderate party went by the name of Katipunan ng Malayang Pagkakaisa (KMP). Its candidate for council chairman was Manuel “Manny” Ortega from the College of Law. Vea and Ortega were perfect contrasts in appearance, and this coincided with the radical-moderate dichotomy that framed the contending parties. Vea of the radical SM was small, moderately dark, and pedestrian looking. Ortega of the KMP was mestizo looking, taller than Vea, calmer in demeanor, and looked a lot better than Vea.


Willie Nepomuceno ran for university councilor under Sandigang Makabansa Party and won.
Even then he could do a mean Marcos impression. Photo from: http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971b%20September%20Malacanang%20Rally



In my freshman year (1971) the UP Student Council chairmanship
was contested by law student Manuel "Manny" Ortega (left) and engineering student Reynaldo
"Rey Vea (right). In the middle, moderating the event, was Dean of Students Armando Malay. Photo from http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971b%20August%20UP%20Student%20Council

The Sandigang Makabansa Party line-up which included Carol Pagaduan, Clarence Agarao, and Willie Nepomuceno. Photo from:http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971b%20September%20Malacanang%20Rally

Sandigang Makabansa Candidates

I can remember some of the candidates for university councilor from Sandigang Makabansa. They were: Carol Pagaduan, Clarence Agarao, Perry Callanta, Willie Nepomuceno, Jorge Camara, Hermie Coloma, and Ferdie Constantino.  Easily one of the most applauded in the rallies was Nepomuceno from the College of Fine Arts, who could do excellent impressions of President Marcos and then Philippine Constabulary Chief Brig. Gen. Eduardo M. Garcia.

Manuel Ortega, who hailed from Baliuag Bulacan, won the elections, and became the 44th UP Student Council Chairman. Ortega abruptly cut the radicals’ long standing hold on the Student Council.  Sandigan Makabansa quickly branded his victory as the result of “red scare” tactics employed by the opposing party. There may have been some truth to this allegation. 

On the night before the elections, unidentified persons surreptitiously painted leftist slogans like “Mabuhay si Mao,”  “Mabuhay ang CPP,” and “Mabuhay si Dante” all over the campus, especially the walls and blackboards of the CAS, where the bulk of the voters came. Sure enough, on Election Day, students were aghast that their blackboards were rendered unusable, and their classroom walls defaced, by revolutionary slogans painted in 2-3 foot high dripping red letters. To the uninitiated freshmen at least, this was enough to sway them to Ortega’s party. 

It was in my first semester in UP that the historic August 21, 1971 Plaza Miranda Bombing took place, which crippled the Liberal Party senatorial line-up. That was a Saturday night, and the Liberal Party was having a proclamation rally at Plaza Miranda. I saw the actual bombing live on TV, through ABS-CBN Channel 2. I saw an explosion under the stage to my left, and another exploded a second later on the stage near the middle. Pandemonium followed.



Scene in front of Quezon Hall during the Diliman Commune Feb. 1-9, 1971.
Photo from http://www.up.edu.ph/about-up/university-history/

Ninoy Aquino Speaks at UP  --- “Pinutulan na Po ng Paa si Bagatsing”

That Monday, August 23, President Marcos suspended the Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus. I had classes that day, and I arrived in UP surprised to find the campus in a chaotic frenzy. Students and faculty were running to and fro, talking about who would get arrested, and what UP’s response should be. I asked around, and got the news. Someone told me many leftist students and faculty had already gone underground. Seizing this opportunity, the radical camp began staging a series of mass actions which condemned the writ suspension. The first rally took place in front of Malacañang Palace. I remember UP President Salvador P. Lopez attending this one.



Sen. Benigno S. Aquino Jr. spoke at the CAS steps a few days after the Plaza Miranda
 bombing. I am one of the oglers in the background.. Photo from http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/
search/label/1971b%20September%20Sen%20%20Aquino%20at%20UP

At about 10:30 am on September 2, 1971, Senator Benigno S. Aquino Jr. spoke at a small rally in the grand main entrance to CAS, or what is commonly called “AS Steps.”   He came to bring the latest news on the Plaza Miranda Bombing and to give his take on the writ suspension. That was when I first saw Ninoy Aquino in person. I remember being not more than ten feet away from the Tarlac senator, as he got off his dark colored late 1960s Mercedes 300.  He greeted the students, many of whom stood up from their spaces on the steps and excitedly shook his hand. Most of us there were still in high school when Aquino was elected senator in 1967. He was chubby, and wore thick, black plastic eyeglasses, light brown pants, and a white embroidered barong-tagalog whose sIeeves were slightly rolled up.

This was mint edition Ninoy Aquino, of the “Bondying” image. It was the same Ninoy Aquino whose photo was splashed on the front page of the Manila Times two days after the bombing, going up the stairs of a Manila hospital and defiantly carrying a “pistolized” carbine with his right hand. He was then visiting the injured Liberal Party leaders, who were scattered in different hospitals. Ninoy was the General-Secretary of the LP at that time, and had decided to carry on the campaign single-handed. He was sending a message to Marcos, taunting him to go one-on-one. This quixotic stand earned him the 1971 “Man of the Year” award from the Philippines Free Press. Such was Ninoy’s  legend. This is the image that is etched in my mind, never mind his mature assassination and 500 peso bill appearances.

Study Now Pay Later

I must admit being extremely dumbfounded when I saw Aquino. I had idolized the man since he ran for Philippine senator in the 1967 elections. In that campaign, being only 34 running on 35, he wore a blazing red jacket and a “lampin” (diaper) around his neck to emphasize his youth. He used his personal helicopter to draw in the rural crowds. Because of his charisma and energy, the press alternatively called him “wunderkind” and “superboy.” I followed the progress of his case from the Comelec up to the Supreme Court, when Marcos unsuccessfully tried to prevent his proclamation. I marveled at his “Study Now Pay Later” law,  thrilled at his expose of the “Corregidor Massacre, ” never missed his weekly ABC Channel 5 talk show “Insight,” and watched his televised speeches in the Senate, and at  Liberal Party rallies.

Aquino’s magnetic appeal in person was many times that on TV. I remember the first line that he spoke that morning: “Pinutulan na po ng paa si Bagatsing,” (They have cut off Bagatsing’s leg). referring to the Liberal Party mayoralty candidate for Manila, Ramon Bagatsing, who was one of those seriously wounded in the Plaza Miranda Bombing. I knew from his previous speeches on TV that this dramatic opening was just an appeal to our young emotions, but he in any case got my sympathy. His youthful élan and rotund figure dominated the jam-packed AS Steps. Aquino explained that doctors had to amputate Bagatsing’s leg because it had developed gangrene and grown maggots while being enclosed in a cast.


A barricade in front of Quezon Hall during the Diliman Commune of February 1-9, 1971.
The barricade materials consisted of classroom chairs, logs, and office tables. Photo from http://www.positivelyfilipino.com/magazine/august-21-stories

Opposition in Intensive Care Unit

After this statement, the crowd gasped in a collective foreboding about the state of the country. We had good reason, for the political opposition was practically in the intensive care unit, and Marcos had just acquired near dictatorial powers.  Senators Jovito Salonga and senatorial candidate John Osmeña were listed as critical, and Senators Gerardo Roxas, Edgar U. Ilarde, Eva Estrada Kalaw, and Segio Osmena Jr, were listed as in serious condition

Aquino delivered his predictable tirades against the government, which is not to say that most of us were not angered, because Aquino had this freaky gift of mass agitation.  After he spoke, Aquino sat with the students on the steps, chatted, listened to the other speakers, and answered questions. He hanged around long enough to catch some revolutionary songs by Gintong Silahis, the cultural group of the Samahang Demokratiko ng Kabataan (SDK). 

In the middle of the performance, he took out his wallet, got a ten peso bill, and slid it into a collection box that was going around.  After more than an hour with us, he stood up, briskly walked down the AS Steps, shifted to his left, diagonally crossing the road. He then boarded his parked Mercedes at the other side, which was facing the University Avenue. I was surprised he did not sit at the back, as I expected a senator of the land would, but instead sat in the front with his driver. The car then sped away.



ABS-CBN helped the Liberal Party (LP) senatorial slate by allowing them to hold their miting de avance right in the safety of its Bohol Ave. studios. The injured line-up from left to right: Eddie Ilarde, Eva Estrada Kalaw, Jovito Salonga, John Osmena, Gene Magsaysay, Melanio Singson, and Salipada Pendatun. Not in picture is Ramon Mitra Jr. Kalaw was a guest candidate from the Nacionalista Party (NP). Of the seven in the picture, Singson and Pendatun were not elected senator. Mitra won. Only two Nacionalistas made it to the magic eight: Ernesto Maceda and Alejandro Almendras. Photo fromhttp://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maqpfeIuSn1qifq8yo1_1280.jpg

The grisly injuries of the Liberal Party senatorial line-up are shown in this collage from the Philippines Free Press.  

The Movement of Concerned Citizens for Civil Liberties (MCCCL) 

After the writ of habeas corpus suspension, many so-named “civil libertarians” and “anti-Marcos reactionaries” began gravitating towards the radicals. Soon, a coalition organization called the Movement of Concerned Citizens for Civil Liberties (MCCCL) was formed by leaders of the main leftist organizations, and nationalist senators Jose W. Diokno and Lorenzo M. Tanada.  The MCCCL sponsored a mammoth indignation rally on October 13, 1971. 

This rally warned that the writ suspension was but a prelude to the declaration of martial law. This was the first rally that I participated in. We started assembling at the AS Steps in the late morning, with the usual agitation speeches and cultural numbers.  After about an hour the rally leaders required the JD, MD, MD-CAM, and DM buses that plied the UP-Balara-Quiapo route to pass in front of CAS, where they could pick up the rally participants.



The firebrand Baltazar "Bal" Pinguel rousing the crowd.

The October 13, 1971 Movement of Concerned Citizens for Civil
Liberties (MCCCL) rally at Plaza Miranda drew a huge crowd.

Sen. Jose W. Diokno, one of the MCCCL founders, warning
the public about the impending declaration of martial law. Photos fromhttp://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971c%20October%20MCCL%20Rally
All the rally participants got off at Welcome Rotunda, which was the boundary between Quezon City and Manila.  From there we walked some five kilometers to Plaza Miranda in Quiapo, where the rally culminated in a sea of angry protestors. One can get an idea of the size of the rally from the way it completely covered Plaza Miranda, and some parts of Quezon Blvd. The roof of the entrance to the Lacson Underpass near the Quiapo Church served as a stage. It was festooned with huge streamers and crammed with media persons and sound equipment.  

The roof of the underpass in front of the landmark Mercury Drugstore was also used as a stage. The principal speaker of the rally was Sen. Jose W. Diokno. Other speakers that I can recall included popular agitator Baltazar “Bal” Pinguel, and Fr. Ed Garcia of Lakasdiwa, a social-democratic student organization. The rally was covered by ABS-CBN Radyo Patrol, with Joe Taruc giving an on-the-spot account.

Jane Fonda Visits UP

My first semester in UP was also the one where I saw Jane Fonda in person. Early one day in December 1971, I heard from the campus buzz that Jane Fonda was coming over to speak in a rally. Jane Fonda was then traveling around Asia opposing the Vietnam War. She had just launched a movement called Free the Army that aimed to offer an alternative to Bob Hope’s USO Tours by conducting Free the Army talks and seminars. 

The word “free” was sometimes sacrilegiously replaced by an equally famous four letter word by Jane Fonda’s group.   At this time, she was basking in the glory of her first Academy Award for Best Actress, which she won for playing a crime-fighting prostitute in the movie “Klute.”   Predictably, the UP radicals and Jane Fonda found common cause in assailing the US led military intervention in Vietnam.




Jane Fonda mingling and signing autographs at the CAS steps. I  remember Donald Sutherland was with the Fonda group. Earlier, before coming to the Philippines, she had posed with a North Vietnamese anti-aircraft gun crew which made her very unpopular in the US. Photos from http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/
label/1971d%20December%20Jane%20Fonda%20visits%20UP

As anticipated, the rally was held at AS Steps. I joined the noon crowd that was milling around waiting for Ms Fonda, and occupied a nice seat on the AS Steps, not minding the heat. By the time Jane Fonda arrived, the crowd had filled the entire AS Steps. She wore round dark glasses and sported slightly short hair which was combed forward at the sides. I could have sworn that it was the same hair-do that she wore in the movie. She was accompanied by a large retinue of denim clad media persons who were equipped with the latest Seventies audio-visual gear, as well as some  hangers-on who appeared to be hippies straight out of Woodstock and San Francisco.

I also gathered from the hubbub that Donald Sutherland, Fonda’s co-star in Klute and current beau was around, but I don’t recall seeing him in the confusion. I don’t remember Jane Fonda giving a speech either. She just sat with the crowd in the middle of the AS Steps, listened to the speakers, and occasionally propped her chin with her right arm, apparently bored. 

The only speaker that I remember was Reynaldo Vea. At the top of his voice, he delivered a passionate address that mentioned something about the “national-democratic movement in the Philippines also being an internationalist movement,” as if to say that his group was not against Jane Fonda’s group, just because they were Americans. Vea made it clear that Filipino activists and Fonda were fighting a common enemy --- “US Imperialism.”



Engineering student Reynaldo Vea ran for the chairmanship of the UP Student Council but was defeated by Manny Ortega. On the eve of the elections, operatives of Ortega's party painted the walls of the College of Arts and Sciences with leftist slogans in bold and dripping red, which scared enough voters to swing the voting in Ortega's favor. Photo from: http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971b%20September%20Malacanang%20Rally

Marcos Lifts Writ Suspension But is Pushed into Martial Law

The Plaza Miranda Bombing was a propaganda windfall for the Liberal Party. After the incident, popular opinion dramatically veered to the side of the Liberals, with only their deeper pockets and superior machinery compensating for the Nacionalistas. The 39 year-old Ninoy Aquino upped the ante against Marcos in this critical situation, campaigning himself hoarse all over the country as if he himself were a candidate. When he appeared on his regular TV show in the course of the campaign, his voice was hardly audible.

By this time, the parting of ways between Marcos and the rich and powerful Don Eugenio Lopez Sr. family was complete. Historians still have to give a full accounting of the origins of this rift. It could only have started after the 1969 elections, because Don Eugenio’s brother, Vice-president Fernando Lopez, was still Marcos’ running mate in that contest.  At any rate, I first noticed it in the increasingly anti-Marcos articles and editorial cartoons in the Lopez-owned Manila Chronicle. Next came the anti-Marcos programs on the giant Lopez-owned ABS-CBN TV network.

These were: Francisco “Soc” Rodrigo’s “Kuro-Kuro,” and Max Soliven’s “Impact.” For the 1971, elections, the Lopezes left nothing to chance. First, as a safety measure, they let the Liberals hold their “Miting de Avance” in the ABS-CBN compound, and then televised it live and nationwide, for free, presumably. Second, fearing that Marcos might cheat massively, ABS-CBN held an “Operation Quick Count” of its own, to rival other quick counts. The ABS-CBN machinery was efficient: it beat the others by reporting almost complete results 24 hours after the voting.


Vinzons Hall, where the UP Student Council headquarters was located,
and where the Philippine Collegian had its office, is plastered with a familiar slogan. Photo from http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1971b%20September%20Sen%20%20Aquino%20at%20UP

Vinzons hall was named after Wenceslao Quinito Vinzons who was an American-era politician and an anti-Japanese guerilla leader. At almost 25 years old, he was the youngest member of the 1934 Constitutional Convention. The Japanese captured and executed him in 1942.  
I Shift to AB Political Science

At this point of my freshman year in UP, I had decided to shift to political science as my major. After attending numerous rallies and symposia, I realized that  I would be more effective as an activist if I were a political science student. I also realized that most of the friends and acquaintances that I had made after attending the rallies were political science majors. All told, I felt "closer to the action" as it were, if I were to shift to Bachelor of Arts in Political Science. 

Accordingly, during the enrollment period for the second semester, school year '71-72, I went to  the immortal Room 101 in CAS, which was located under the CAS theater. Through a glass window clouded by hand prints and condensed breath, I requested the staff that I wanted to shift courses from journalism to political science. The student volunteers from the UP Registration Volunteer Corps (RVC) hastily dug up my records, or what they called my "jacket." After being  let into the room, I signed a few forms, and my course shift was complete. 

Liberal Party Victory

The November 8, 1971 Philippine senatorial elections saw the Liberal Party winning five seats in the senate, or six, if we would include re-electionist Senator Eva Estrada Kalaw, who was a Nacionalista, but ran under the LP as a guest candidate. The elections were relatively peaceful, orderly, and honest. Marcos-style spending and cheating of the 1969 variety failed to pull him through, thanks to the popular vigilance created by the Plaza Miranda Bombing, and thanks to a largely unsung hero in the person of Comelec chairman Jaime N. Ferrer. Ferrer, a Marcos appointee, did the unthinkable by rejecting pressures from Marcos to look the other way in the face of massive electoral cheating. He oversaw an election that is considered a watershed in Philippine history.

On January 11, 1972, President Marcos lifted the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. In his announcement, Marcos declared that the suspension had served its purpose of pre-empting a leftist plot against the government, and packaged the lifting as a New Year’s gift to the Filipino people. To the radical and moderate alliance that met the suspension heads-on, it was a sweet political and propaganda victory to be milked to the hilt. Communists and liberals alike savored the exhilarating experience of facing the incipient dictator eyeball-to-eyeball, with Marcos blinking first. For the moment at least, Marcos’ foes thought they had the upper hand.


Philippines Free Press cartoon on the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. Photo
fromhttp://67.media.tumblr.com/8cb65c3759ed168dfc53-
4c1ecd2dbef1/tumblr_inline_odqpgwEo0p1qihczg_500.jpg

The Wily Marcos

But the wily Marcos had other things in his mind. In the first half of 1972, numerous bombings continued to occur in the Greater Manila Area, most notably those affecting the ABS-CBN television tower, the US Embassy, the Malacañang Palace gate, the Philamlife Building in Ermita, the Greater Manila Terminal Food Market in Taguig, Rizal, and Joe’s Department Store in Carriedo, Manila. The Carriedo bombing was the most serious because for the first time, a person was killed, and others wounded. 

The now formidable anti-Marcos front suspected something was afoot when Marcos started making pronouncements linking the explosions to a 1972 plan by the Communist Party of the Philippines to seize power. He even made a pronouncement that Ninoy Aquino and Jose Maria Sison had already met in a posh residence in Forbes Park, Makati, to plan their power grab.  The political situation was getting tenser by the day. It did not help any that on June 23, 1972, Typhoon Konsing battered and flooded Central Luzon, causing significant damage to the Philippine economy.

I observed all of these events with curious anticipation. My main sources of information were the Manila Times, the Philippines Free Press, ABS-CBN channels 2 and 4, and ABC channel 5. I saw Marcos as a man pressed by factors that pointed to martial law. First, the results of the recent elections strengthened the Liberal Party, and bolstered their chances in the next polls. Second, he was dead set in running for a third term, but the 1934 Constitution prevented this. 

Third, he could let his unpopular wife run in the 1973 Presidential elections, but the Liberals will surely field the phenomenal Ninoy Aquino, and it will be a mismatch, cheating included. Fourth, the ongoing Constitutional Convention was determined to include a clause in the new charter preventing him from running ever again. And fifth, he had the support of the US in declaring martial law because he had assured them that he will extend their Parity Rights and protect their military bases, and besides, US Cold War policy at that time tolerated Third World dictators.



 Marcos parted ways with long-time political ally Eugenio Lopez Sr., calling him an oligarch.
Lopez responded by using his media empire, consisting of ABS-CBN and the broadsheet
Manila Chronicle to help the Liberal Party in the 1971 elections.

The Clock Ticks to Martial Law

As the second half of 1972 began, the inexorable countdown to martial law was on. More and more people saw martial law becoming imminent. Consequently, the supporters of the radical left multiplied. It did not help any that the economy was severely affected by torrential flooding in Central Luzon, caused by almost nonstop monsoon rains that July. In UP that September, the increasing strength of the Left manifested itself in another leftist victory in the student council elections. 

After a hiatus of one year, the Sandigang Makabansa regained control of the council when Jaime Galvez Tan and Carol Pagaduan won as chairman and vice-chairman respectively. They beat middle of the roaders Ed Robles and Jules Arambulo of the Katipunan ng Malayang Pagkakaisa. In those days, this was a major political development of national significance. The radical Left in effect retook a major platform from which to conduct their anti-US and anti-Marcos propaganda in the Greater Manila Area.

On September 18, 1972, a Monday, at 7:30 in the evening, I watched Max Soliven’s ABS-CBN Channel 4 program “Impact,” where Ninoy Aquino exposed Oplan Sagittarius, an operational plan by the Armed Forces of the Philippines that bore the name of the 9th sign of the Zodiac, indicating it is to be implemented on a September. Aquino swore that Oplan Sagittarius was Marcos’s blueprint for martial law, and it was to kick in that month. 

At one point, I remember Max Soliven asking Ninoy his thoughts on getting arrested or killed under martial law, and his answer was chillingly prophetic. He looked into the camera and said: “Mr. Marcos, if I die, my blood will be on your hands.”    After the show, he proceeded to the Senate and to a jam-packed gallery, repeated the expose, and the sanguinary warning. It was to be his last Senate speech before the declaration of military rule.

Ninoy Aquino in UP: His Last Speech Before Martial Law

At about 8 am of September 21, 1972, Senator Aquino spoke publicly in UP. It is most surely the last public speech he made before martial law drew the curtains on the 26 year old democracy in the Philippines. I arrived in CAS for my 10 am class, and entered through the door adjacent to the Faculty Center. 

Walking through the 1st floor corridor, I found out that the classrooms were empty, and that there was a restless indoor rally at the CAS 1st floor lobby. I eagerly joined the spectators, who had packed the lobby like sardines. I only made it to where the corridor met the lobby; the crowd was solid and impenetrable. The moderate weather made things easier, but the place steamed of body heat nonetheless.



This is the Palma Hall 1st floor lobby, where Ninoy Aquino last spoke to UP students before the declaration of martial law.
  
I immediately saw Aquino dressed in white barong and brown “double-knit” pants. He was standing, holding a microphone and speaking defiantly, and in rapid fire. He was facing the CAS Steps, and surrounded by several hundred students sitting cross legged or “Indian style” on the lobby floor. Many more were standing at the edges of the lobby. They cheered as Ninoy cracked joke after joke ridiculing Marcos, which he could do with perfect timing. The atmosphere was both disquieting and entertaining. Aquino warned the students that martial law could be declared anytime, but here he was, making the president the butt of his gags. 

Politics and Street Comedy

Ninoy was a master of this art, combining politics and street comedy. It endeared him to his audience, and thanks to television, earned him a mass following. It also made a lot of enemies ---- the place was crawling with government agents. But he seemed to relish the adulation. Worse, I thought this limelight was the source of his strength, as his long locks were to Samson. The height of Aquino’s irreverence was a quip that Marcos sang the Ilocano folk song Pamulinawen while having sex with his mistress Dovie Beams. This brought the house down. 

The emcee of the affair was Francis Mendoza, a curly haired political science major who wore round silver wire rim glasses and who was a recognized ideologue of the leftist Kabataang Makabayan (Patriotic Youth). He also happened to be my classmate in the freshman course Introduction to Social and Political Thought.   He sat beside Ninoy and was accepting written questions. I will never forget when he read a question asking Aquino what he would do if martial law were declared. 


Francis Mendoza, a bespectacled Kabataang Makabayan activist, was the emcee in the indoor rally
at the CAS first floor lobbywhereNinoy Aquino last spoke at UP before martial law. Photofrom http://dilimanseventies.blogspot.com/search/label/1972a%20February%20%20Retention%20of%20UP%20Tarlac

Aquino gamely played to the radical crowd. Without blinking, he changed from funny to deadly grim. He affirmed: “The Liberal Party is divided between those who favor violent methods and those who favor peaceful ones. I belong to the group who would oppose martial law through the force of arms.”   This answer was met with deafening applause, and repeated shouts of “rebolusyon.”

As the rally concluded, the crowd was still energized and would not budge from the CAS Lobby. I saw Aquino being signaled by a man who apparently was requesting him to go near the spot where I was standing. When I turned around, I saw a camera crew getting ready to interview him. The cameraman was about fifteen feet away from him. Aquino stood stiff and faced him, waiting for a cue, his back to the CAS Lobby.  

A man holding a microphone then appeared to ask him a question, to which he gave a rather extended answer. A few more exchanges followed, with the interview lasting about half-an-hour. I joined a small group in ogling at our hero from the sidelines. We tried to understand what he was saying, but the deafening din from the lobby made this impossible.  We all knew that Aquino was a marked man enjoying his last few days of freedom. He would be arrested the next day, and march off into history.



The Philippines Free Press caricatured Ninoy Aquino as a superhero,
who could take whatever Marcos threw at him, including, of course, the kitchen sink.

Last Rally Before the Announcement of Martial Law

That afternoon, I joined what was to be the last rally before the announcement of the declaration of martial law. It was sponsored not by the MCCCL, but by the Movement of Concerned Christians for Civil Liberties (MCCCL), which funnily had the same abbreviation. That the religious sector sponsored this rally was a herald of the pivotal role they would play in opposing martial law in the next fourteen years.  

The rally mobilized about 30,000, and was held, unsurprisingly, in Plaza Miranda. I joined this rally not out of curiosity, as I did when I first joined a rally a year before. This time, I was seething mad at President Marcos, because I was convinced he was about to end democracy in my country. By the time we had reached Plaza Miranda, my voice was already strained from shouting anti-Marcos slogans, like “Marcos Hitler Diktador Tuta!" 

Legally, Philippine martial law was declared through Presidential Proclamation 1081 which was effective September 21, 1972. This means that while the rally was being held, martial law was already legally in force in the entire Philippines. However, Marcos’ announcement that he had signed the proclamation “as of the 21st of this month” was made on the evening of September 23.  

Why Marcos chose to wait for two days before announcing it on nationwide TV no one will be absolutely sure. However, Marcos has been known to consider 7 and numbers divisible by 7 as his lucky numbers; thus the 21st of September. He has also numbered other important documents this way. For example,  he saw to it that Cabinet Bill No. 7 which provided for the 1986 Snap Elections, would be numbered that way. Marcos also made sure that the Snap Elections would be held on February 7, 1986.


4 comments:

  1. nice post. wish I had written it myself. what activist group did you belong to then? I was SDK.

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  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  3. I did not join any group like KM or SDK. I joined UP Political Science Club and Alpha Sigma Fraternity.

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