The Enriquez Family of Bulakan, Bulacan

I trace my maternal ancestry to the mid-19th century Enriquez family of Bulakan, Bulacan. This family’s patriarch and matriarch were my great grandfather and great grandmother Vicente de Jesus Enriquez and Petrona Gatmaitan Sepulveda-Fernando.

Vicente and Petrona Enriquez had nine children: six boys and three girls. They were Alfonso, Anacleto, Severina, Victoria, Paula, Vicente Jr., Jose, Laureano, and Bonifacio. The first four sons joined the Katipunan, became high ranking members, and fought in the Philippine Revolution.

Alfonso became a captain and headed Brigada Pilar, the victorious Katipunan force in Bulakan. Anacleto became a general at age 20 and fell in the Battle of San Rafael on November 30, 1896. Vicente became a lieutenant-colonel and aide-de-camp (ayudante) to Gen. Gregorio del Pilar and, along with Jose, who became a lieutenant, survived the Battle of Tirad Pass. Vicente was the principal source of the details of the battle which would be chronicled by historians. Laureano and Bonifacio, the youngest of the Enriquez brood, did not join the Katipunan because they were too young.

Gen. Anacleto Enriquez and and fellow Bulakenyo Gen. Gregorio del Pilar were close friends from childhood. They were born only 10 months and 12 days apart (September 26, 1876 and November 14, 1875). In fact, Gen del Pilar was born on land adjacent to the Enriquez family house in Barrio San Jose, Bulakan. Together with Anacleto's younger brother Vicente, the two maintained their friendship as students of the Ateneo Municipal de Manila at Arsobispado St. in Intramuros.  It is said that Gen. del Pilar was inspired profoundly by Gen. Enriquez' death, leading him to emulate Gen. Enriquez' martyrdom.

Gen. Anacleto Enriquez 
from Retrato The Photo Archive of the Filipinas Heritage Library 
http://www.retrato.com.ph/photodtl.asp?id=PP01108

Because of the revolutionary activities of her children, Petrona Enriquez was arrested and detained by the Spaniards in the old Bilibid Prisons when hostilities broke out in 1896.  Her third child, Victoria Enriquez, was also arrested by the Spanish authorities.

Vicente Enriquez' father was named Anacleto Enriquez, which explains why he named one of his sons Anacleto. In turn, the former's father was a pure Spaniard by the name of Rafael Enriquez, about whom the Enriquez clan in the Philippines knows very little.

Petrona Enriquez' mother was Monica Gatmaitan, a first cousin of Blasa Gatmaitan, the mother of propagandist Marcelo H. del Pilar. That makes Blasa the aunt of Petrona Enriquez, and Marcelo H. del Pilar Petrona's cousin. Marcelo del Pilar therefore was Anacleto and Vicente Enriquez' uncle. 

My mother, Eneida Enriquez Reyes, told me time and again  that Petrona and her wealthy sister Eugenia contributed to the financial allotment that Blasa Gatmaitan sent to Marcelo H. del Pilar while he was campaigning for reforms in Spain.  

My mother also told me that my great grandfather Vicente occupied the position of “escribano” in Bulacan. She said that our great grandfather earned his living by writing legal documents, although she did not specify if Vicente Enriquez Sr. was a judge or a lawyer.

According to Black's Law Dictionary, an escribano is an officer in Spanish law who has “authority to set down in writing, and verify by his attestation, transactions and contracts between private persons, and also judicial acts and proceedings." Vicente Enriquez must have accumulated his properties writing legal documents for merchants, landowners, and the Catholic Church. With his means, Vicente Enriquez could afford to send his children to the Ateneo, the best school in those days.  

The last section of the invitation to Anacleto Enriquez' centennial celebrations on September 26, 1976. It shows the names of his parents, and the names of his siblings and their spouses. The matriarch, Petrona Enriquez,was arrested and detained by the Spaniards in the old Bilibid Prisons when hostilities broke out in Bulacan in 1896.The third child, Victoria Enriquez, who was also arrested by the Spanish authorities, never married. It translates:

THE HERO'S SIBLINGS

ALFONSO S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) became Judge of Bulakan, Bulakan.

SEVERINA S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) wife of former Bulakan Governor Trinidad Icasiano.

VICTORIA S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased)

PAULA S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) wife of Don Francisco Morelos.

VICENTE S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) aide-de-camp of Gen. Gregorio H. del Pilar.

JOSE S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) became mayor of Bulakan, Bulakan.

LAUREANO S.F. ENRIQUEZ (deceased) became Treasurer of San Ildefonso, Bulakan.

BONIFACIO S.F. ENRIQUEZ became Judge of Polo, Bocawe, Bigaa, and Bulakan.

HIS PARENTS

Father: DON VICENTE ENRIQUEZ Y DE JESUS

Mother: DOÑA PETRONA SEPULVEDA FERNANDO Y GATMAITAN

From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

My direct grandfather, Bonifacio Enriquez (my mother’s father), was born on July 22, 1886. He was 15 days shy of six years old when the Katipunan was founded on July 7, 1892 and ten years old when the revolution broke out on August 23, 1896.

Although Bonifacio SF Enriquez was too young to have joined the fight, knowing his character, I think he would have followed his brothers had he been old enough. I am saying this because my mother told us that during the Japanese occupation, Bonifacio SF Enriquez helped a lot of Hukbalahap (Hukbo ng Bayan Laban sa Hapon) fighters, many of them his tenants. 

History of Bulacan, Bulacan

According to the official website of Bulacan, it is one of the oldest towns in the Philippines, having been founded by the Augustinians in 1572. Its patron is “Nuestra Senora de la Asuncion” (Our Lady of the Assumption). It was the long-standing capital of Bulacan province before the Americans moved the “capital de la provincia” to Malolos, shortly after occupation.

The word "Bulacan" comes from the Tagalog term "bulak", which means cotton. Because of the large quantity of cotton plants in the original settlement, it was named Bulacan.  The first Bulaceños were farmers, fishermen, handicraftsmen, and weavers.

The people of Bulacan first demonstrated their fighting capacity when, under the leadership of Spaniard Jose Pedro Bustos, a force of 8,000 Bulakeños retook the town from the British after 9 days of fighting. This battle occurred during the British occupation of Manila and environs from 1762 to 1764.   

Bulacan, Bulacan is very near to and shares a coastline with Manila. This contributed to Bulacan's prosperity in the early times. It was the capital of Bulacan province for much of the  Spanish period. Source: Wikipedia

As the administrative center of the province during the Spanish Period, Bulacan must have been a flourishing economic and cultural hub. Its nearness to Manila, with whom it shares a coastline, and the easy transportation made possible by rivers, hastened Bulacan’s commercial development.

Arguably, this prosperity created and sustained a Bulacan Ilustrado class, exemplified by the landed and educated Enriquez family. This Bulacan elite must have imbibed the same liberal-democratic theory that animated the love for freedom of the Ilustrados in other Philippine provinces.    

The most famous Ilustrado to be born in Bulacan, of course, was the great propagandist Marcelo H. del Pilar, who was born in Barrio Kupang. Gregorio del Pilar, the hero of Tirad Pass, was himself a member of this class.

The revolutionary martyrdom of Anacleto Enriquez, however, remains known to but a few Filipinos. Much less still is known about the participation and survival of his older brother Capt. Alfonso Enriquez and younger brothers Col. Vicente Enriquez, and Lt. Jose Enriquez in the Battle of Tirad Pass, and the fact that Col. Vicente Enriquez was the aide-de-camp of Gen Gregorio del Pilar. Finally, the incarceration of their mother, Petrona Enriquez, at the old Bilibid Prisons, and the arrest of their sister, Victoria, are also not generally known.

The Nuestra Señora de la Asuncion (Our Lady of the Assumption) Parish Church in Bulacan, Bulacan. It was established by the Augustinians in 1578, making it one of the oldest churches in Bulacan province. Behind it is the town cemetery, where my parents and grandfathers/mothers are buried. It is said that in this church, Gregorio del Pilar distributed "subversive" pamphlets authored by his uncle, Marcelo H. del Pilar.  Photo by Jacob Carpio

Alfonso, Anacleto, Vicente, and Jose Enriquez

Noted Bulacan historian Isaac C. Cruz Jr. was able to interview my grandfather Jose SF Enriquez before the latter died on January 18, 1965. Jose Enriquez held the rank of lieutenant in the Katipunan, and was among the 8 survivors of the Battle of Tirad Pass, as he told Cruz. 

According to Jose Enriquez, when hostilities broke out in Bulacan in 1896, their mother, Petrona SF Enriquez was arrested by the Guardia Civil because of the revolutionary activities of her four sons, Alfonso, Anacleto, Vicente, and Jose.  She was “dragged from her home” and detained at the Old Bilibid Prisons.

Earlier, in January 1895, recalls Jose Enriquez, Anacleto Enriquez joined the Katipunan at the age of 19 at a house in Tondo, Manila. In a solemn ceremony inspired by Masonic rites, Anacleto Enriquez made an incision on his left forearm, and dipped a pen in his blood.

Anacleto Enriquez Organizes the Bulacan Katipunan

Pledging eternal loyalty to the cause, he then signed on a document his nom de guerre: “Matanglawin” (Hawkeye). Anacleto Enriquez earned his nom de guerre because of his shooting prowess.  After the signing, Andres Bonifacio, whose nom de guerre was “May-Pagasa” (Optimist), instructed Anacleto Enriquez to organize a Katipunan chapter in Bulacan.

According to a marker in Barangay San Jose, Anacleto Enriquez, together with another Bulacan patriot, Doroteo Karagdag, established the Bulacan Katipunan at the Enriquez family house. This house burned down in 1898. They named the chapter "Balangay Uliran" (Model Chapter) 

In this historic house, the members and applicants of the "Balangay Uliran" had their secret meetings and initiation rites, which included the famous Katipunan blood compact. The Guardia Civil attacked the house, and arrested Petrona Enriquez. 

This historical marker, now displayed in the library-museum of the Marcelo H. del Pilar shrine in San Nicolas,  Bulacan, Bulacan, commemorates the memory of the Vicente Enriquez-Petrona Sepulveda Fernando home in San Jose, Bulacan, Bulacan. The house burned down in 1898 but is nevertheless remembered as the birthplace of the Katipunan in Bulacan, Bulacan.  The Spaniards raided this house in 1896 and arrested "Donya Petrona." It translates:

THE HISTORIC HOUSE OF THE ENRIQUEZ 

ON THIS PLACE, BARRIO SAN JOSE, BULACAN, BULACAN, FORMERLY STOOD THE BIG HOUSE OF HUSBAND AND WIFE DON VICENTE ENRIQUEZ Y DE JESUS AND DOÑA PETRONA SEPULVEDA FERNANDO Y GATMAYTAN AND THEIR CHILDREN AMONG WHICH WERE ANACLETO WHO BECAME A GENERAL, VICENTE ENRIQUEZ WHO BECAME AIDE-DE-CAMP TO GEN. GREGORIO H. DEL PILAR, ALFONSO ENRIQUEZ, WHO BECAME CAPTAIN OF “BRIGADA PILAR” AND JOSE ENRIQUEZ, WHO BECAME A LIEUTENANT OF GEN. “GOYO” AT TIRAD PASS AND MAYOR OF BULACAN 1912-1916.

IN THE YEAR 1896, UPON THE ORDERS OF ANDRES BONIFACIO, ANACLETO ENRIQUEZ, VICENTE ENRIQUEZ, AND DOROTEO KARAGDAG ESTABLISHED IN THIS HOUSE “BALANGAY ULIRAN” OF THE BULACAN KATIPUNAN. IN THIS HOUSE WERE ALSO HELD THE SECRET MEETINGS OF THE KATIPUNEROS AND THE MANY TESTS, OATH-TAKINGS, AND BLOOD COMPACTS OF THE NEW MEMBERS OF THE KATIPUNAN.

THE SPANIARDS ATTACKED THIS HOUSE, ARRESTED DOÑA PETRONA, BROUGHT HER TO MANILA, AND INCARCERATED HER AT BILIBID BECAUSE OF THE LOVE FOR THE MOTHERLAND OF HER CHILDREN.

GEN. ANACLETO ENRIQUEZ DID NOT GO HOME AGAIN BECAUSE HE WAS KILLED IN THE BLOODY BATTLE AT THE CHURCH OF SAN RAFAEL, BULACAN AT THE AGE OF ONLY 21. THIS HOUSE BURNED DOWN IN THE YEAR 1898. 

Photo by Jacob Carpio

Anacleto Enriquez was studying at the Ateneo in Intramuros when he connected with Bonifacio. The two developed a close friendship which led to Anacleto Enriquez’ joining the Katipunan. Because of his Katipunan activities, however, Anacleto Enriquez did not finish his baccalaureate studies at the Ateneo.  

Anacleto Enriquez showed organizational skills in expanding the Katipunan chapter in Bulacan. Balangay Uliran would eventually assume the name “Brigada Pilar,” ostensibly because its membership had reached brigade strength, or 3,000 fighters.   I am not sure if this was to honor town mates Marcelo H. del Pilar, or Gregorio del Pilar. Anacleto's older brother, Capt. Alfonso Enriquez, became the head of "Brigada Pilar."  

Some websites say "Balangay Uliran" was formed with the help of Gen. Isidoro Torres of Malolos. The same websites say the "pangulo" or president of Balangay Uliran was Doroteo Karagdag, the "kalihim" or secretary was Anacleto Enriquez, and that the "ingat-yaman" or treasurer was Anacleto's brother, Vicente Enriquez.

Jose Enriquez related how the townspeople were amazed by Anacleto Enriquez’ courage and organizing skill. I surmise what he was doing was difficult and dangerous ---- Katipunan then was a secret organization, there were spies and traps everywhere, and the penalty for subversive activities was death, often by garrote. Adding to Anacleto Enriquez’ mystique were his athletic build, handsome looks, gentlemanly manners, magnetic personality, Ateneo education, and well-respected family.

Anacleto Enriquez had political savvy as well: he initiated an effective whispering campaign against Spanish abuses in Bulacan, Bulacan. Before long, Anacleto Enriquez became a legendary figure in Bulacan.

Initially, Anacleto Enriquez was able to recruit about 200 Katipunan combatants in Bulacan. Included in this number were his brothers Vicente Jr. and Jose, who later fought at Tirad Pass. Vicente Enriquez became a Lt. Coronel and aide-de-camp to Gen. Gregorio del Pilar, while Jose Enriquez, as I said, became 2nd Lieutenant.

Vicente Enriquez became aide-de-camp to Gen. Gregorio del Pilar and survived  Tirad Pass. The US 33rd Volunteer Infantry Regiment under Col. Luther R. Hare described the Tirad Pass defenders as a "ragtag army led by a wily aide-de-camp." From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Gen. Gregorio del Pilar and Gen. Anacleto Enriquez merged Balangay Uliran
of Bulakan, Bulacan with the group of  Gen. Isidoro Torres
to form Balangay at Sangguniang Apuy of Malolos, Bulacan.

Jose Enriquez, like Vicente Enriquez, was one of the survivors of Tirad Pass. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Jose Enriquez in his twilight years, but still wearing  the Katipunan uniform he wore as a 19-year-old. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Brigada Pilar’s Baptism of Fire

Brigada Pilar’s baptism of fire was an encounter in Masukol, Malolos Bulacan, a barrio abutting Manila Bay. Jose Enriquez related how astounded the Spanish forces were by the detachment’s organized fighting style. The group fought its second encounter in Calumpit, Bulacan. The Katipuneros must have travelled by water often, because Masukol and Calumpit have good riverine connections to Bulacan.

Ultimately, it was in an encounter on November 30, 1896, in the Catholic church of San Rafael, Bulacan that Anacleto Enriquez and about 800 members of Brigada Pilar met their glorious fate. San Rafael’s official website says that the Katipuneros descended on the convent attached to the church and occupied it.

They then destroyed its documents and records, ostensibly in a gesture of defiance. After this, they converted the church into a barracks. 

The Battle of San Rafael : Ankle Deep Blood

Three days later, the Guardia Civil learned of their presence. They sent a crack battalion (300 to 1,000 soldiers) of “cazadores” (hunters) led by Lt. Col. Lopez Arteaga to destroy Brigada Pilar. The Katipuneros were trapped in the church. They locked the church doors, but the cazadores broke the doors down with cannons. 

When the cazadores entered the church, fierce hand-to-hand combat ensued, with more than 800 Katipuneros getting killed-in-action, including the 20-year-old Gen. Enriquez. Many Katipuneros were bayoneted in the gut.  

According to eyewitnesses, blood reached ankle-deep from the church floor. My grandmother, Virginia Villaroman Enriquez, who was from San Rafael, told us in our childhood that because the fight occurred right after lunchtime, a lot of undigested rice mixed with the coagulated blood that blanketed much of the church floor.

Historical marker commemorating the Battle of San Rafael. It translates:

THE BATTLE IN SAN RAFAEL

ON THIS PLACE OCCURRED ON NOVEMBER 30, 1896 ONE OF THE BLOODIEST BATTLES IN THE PROVINCE OF BULACAN BETWEEN KATIPUNEROS LED BY GENERAL ANACLETO ENRIQUEZ (MATANGLAWIN) AND SPANISH SOLDIERS LED ON THE OTHER HAND BY LIEUTENANT GENERAL LOPEZ ARTEAGA. WHEN THE SMOKE OF GUNFIRE CLEARED, IT IS ESTIMATED THAT 800 PERSONS ON THE FILIPINO SIDE HAD THE ILL FORTUNE OF DYING. INCLUDED HERE WERE MATANGLAWIN AND OTHER KATIPUNEROS WHO FOUGHT FOR FREEDOM UNTIL THE LAST MOMENT.  

Photo by Cesar Aljama

Another historical marker near the San Rafael church. Photo by Cesar Aljama

Artist's depiction of the Battle of San Rafael November 30, 1896.  Photo by Cesar Aljama

The St. John of God Parish Church San Rafael, Bulacan as it stands today. Local people have told me  that Jose Rizal created the Noli Me Tangere characters Crispin and Basilio from actual events involving two sacristans that worked in this church. Photo by Cesar Aljama

My grandmother said that after seeing this, a lot of San Rafael’s folks swore not to eat caked chicken’s blood and rice again.  This delicacy, which came in half-inch cubes, was made by letting chicken’s blood drip from its slit throat to a plate of uncooked rice and leaving it to coagulate. It has been a favored component of “arroz caldo” and “tinolang manok” in Bulacan as far back as I can remember.    

She also told us that a lot of Katipunan bodies were transported by carabao drawn “caromatas” which passed in front of their house in Barrio Caingin. “The fighting reached the upper parts of the church. There was fighting on the choir loft. The struggle even reached the seldom used circular walkway at the base of the church’s dome which crowned the church’s altar,” she told us repeatedly.

This is the interior of the San Rafael Catholic church where the savage hand-to-hand combat took place. In this cramped space, probably more than a thousand men on each side fought. The battle began shortly after lunchtime. Blood reached ankle-deep from the floor, with lots of undigested rice mixed in.  Photo by Cesar Aljama   

Gregorio del Pilar Idolized Anacleto Enriquez

The town’s website also narrates that the “patio” (plaza) in front of the San Rafael church was littered with the bodies of Katipuneros, which led the “governadorcillo” (mayor) of San Rafael to order that a common grave for them be dug near the church.

Jose Enriquez recalled to Isaac Cruz that before his brother drew his last breath, Anacleto Enriquez told a subordinate to “send my love to my mother,” and “remember, carry on the fight.”

My grandfather, Bonifacio Enriquez, told us repeatedly that in the afternoon that Anacleto Enriquez died, their mother, Petrona, swore she saw a large shadow, somewhat in the shape of a hawk, fly across their living room, and out their window.   

Teodoro M. Kalaw, in his biography of Gregorio del Pilar titled “Life and Death of a Boy-General” wrote that Gen del Pilar could have been in Bulacan, Bulacan when the Guardia Civil returned victoriously from the Battle of San Rafael, shouting “Viva España!”

Kalaw quoted Gregorio del Pilar as asking, “How was Anacleto armed when he fell in Battle? I shall also know how to die for our country as he did.”

Gregorio del Pilar and Anacleto Enriquez were childhood friends, and, according to Kalaw, Gregorio del Pilar idolized Anacleto Enriquez.  They were born only a year apart, 1875 and 1876. Anacleto Enriquez was born in Barrio San Nicolas, Bulacan, Bulacan, while Gregorio del Pilar was born on a piece of land near Anacleto Enriquez’ residence in Barrio San Jose, Bulacan, Bulacan.

Vicente and Jose Enriquez Survive Tirad Pass

According to the website “Katipunan sa Bulacan,” Vicente Enriquez joined the Katipunan at the same time as his brother Anacleto, and this was in July 1892. This is 3 years earlier than 1895, the year offered by Jose Enriquez. He became a coronel on November 1, 1896, and was under the command of General Isidoro Torres, the Katipunan lead commander for Bulacan province.

He was actively involved in recruiting Katipunan members in Bulacan, and, with Anacleto and a certain Col. Asuncion, manufactured cartridges for shotguns. He did not finish his studies at the Ateneo because of his involvement in the Katipunan. 

Expedito Ibarbia, in his book “A Heart Too Far” wrote that Gen. Gregorio del Pilar authorized Col. Vicente Enriquez to handpick the sixty men who would defend Tirad Pass. Before ascending the pass, the group made a vow to fight to the death. The fighting went on for six hours, beginning in the morning of December 2, 1899.

The Texas Volunteers of the 33rd Infantry Regiment numbered around 600, under the command of Gen Peyton C. March. They were looking for a “rebel leader with a ragtag army led by a wily aide-de-camp.”

Gen. del Pilar’s force was gradually reduced by mortar fire to 8 men, excluding Col. Vicente Enriquez. When things became hopeless, del Pilar mounted his horse and urged it to climb a hill. He yelled to his men, “Gentlemen, you have done well. We are now at risk. Save yourselves.”

After saying this, del Pilar got hit in the shoulder by a sniper bullet. Bloodied, he drew his sword and shouted to his men, “You may now go and save yourselves.” Del Pilar then got hit a second time, this time a mortal wound in the neck. He fell off his horse. After seeing del Pilar fall, Col. Vicente Enriquez shouted to  his men, “Men, you heard the general, save yourselves.” Col. Enriquez and his men then slid down the 4,000 foot high chasm.

Included in his men was his kid brother, 2nd Lt. Jose Enriquez. The withdrawal saved the two from a youthful death. Vicente Enriquez was then 19 or 20 years old, and Jose Enriquez a few years younger.  

Bulacan Celebrates Anacleto Enriquez’ Centennial

On September 26, 1976, Hiyas ng Bulacan, Bulacan Historical Society, and the Municipal Government of Bulacan, celebrated Anacleto Enriquez’ centennial. This was done with the active participation of the Enriquez clan and especially the only living sibling of Anacleto Enriquez, former judge Bonifacio Enriquez, who was then 90 years old.  The celebrations were marked by morning Holy Mass for the hero at Bulacan’s Our Lady of the Assumption church,  unveiling of historical markers in Anacleto Enriquez’ birthplace and residence in Barangay San Nicolas, and San Jose, a short program, and lunch at Bonifacio SF Enriquez’ house. 

The cover of the invitation for Anacleto Enriquez' centennial celebrations. Emiliano Enriquez, was the eldest son of Jose S.F. Enriquez. That's my handwriting. Emiliano was probably named after Emilio Aguinaldo. It translates: 

THE CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF THE BIRTH OF GENERAL ANACLETO S.F. ENRIQUEZ, HERO OF THE BATTLE (1896) AT THE CHURCH OF SAN RAFAEL, BULAKAN.

September 1876 --- September 1976

HIYAS NG BULAKAN, BULACAN HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND THE TOWN GOVERNMENT OF BULAKAN IN COOPERATION WITH THE FAMILY OF THE LATE HERO LED BY THE ONLY REMAINING SIBLING FORMER JUDGE BONIFACIO S.F. ENRIQUEZ ARE GLAD TO INVITE YOU TO A GATHERING AT THEIR RESIDENCE AT SAN JOSE, BULAKAN, BULAKAN, ON SEPTEMBER 26, 1976, AFTER THE UNVEILING OF THE HERO’S HISTORICAL MARKERS.

Ms/Mrs./Mr. ______________________________________________

                                                                                (as relative)                          (as guest)         

From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

The program for Anacleto Enriquez' centennial celebrations. It translates:

P R O G R A M

Sunday, September 26, 1976

8:30 AM --- Mass at the Bulakan Parish Church

9:30 AM --- Unveiling of historical marker at the hero’s birthplace at Barangay San Nicolas, Bulakan

10:30 AM --- Unveiling of historical marker at the house where the hero lived at Barangay San Jose, Bulakan.

11:00 AM --- Brief program to honor the hero

12:00 noon --- LUNCH

G. JOSE P.W. TANTOCO

(President --- Bulacan Historical Society)

Master of Ceremonies

From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

My humble participation in all these was that I wrote the names of the invitees on the invitations and delivered quite a few. I was already a student activist at the University of the Philippines, and very proud to have a grandfather who died a hero in the Philippine Revolution.

Aside from being a good source for the above celebrations, the invitations also contained a list of the complete names of the eight other children of Vicente de Jesus Enriquez and Petrona Gatmaitan Sepulveda Fernando, and their spouses. It also contained other important details, such as the positions they or their spouses held in government.

The preparations for the event were supervised by Bonifacio Enriquez’ son-in-law and my father, Judge Domingo Coronel Reyes, municipal judge of Malolos, Bulacan. He coordinated with the president of Bulacan Historical Society, Jose PW Tantoco.

The above historical marker
GENERAL ANACLETO ENRIQUEZ
"HAWKEYE"
GREAT SON OF BULAKAN, BULACAN
SEPTEMBER 25, 1876
NOVEMBER 30, 1896

NOVEMBER 30, 1896. INSIDE AND OUTSIDE OF THE SAN RAFAEL CHURCH OCCURRED ONE OF THE BLOODIEST BATTLES IN THE HISTORY OF BULAKAN, BETWEEN KATIPUNAN FORCES LED BY GENERAL ANACLETO ENRIQUEZ AND SPANISH SOLDIERS UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF LT. COL. LOPEZ ARTEAGA. WHEN THE SMOKE OF GUNFIRE CLEARED, ANKLE-DEEP BLOOD FLOODED THE BAPTISTERY OF THE CHURCH. IT IS ESTIMATED THAT 800 KATIPUNEROS WERE KILLED INCLUDING THE INTREPID GENERAL WHO FOUGHT FOR THE FREEDOM OF MOTHERLAND PHILIPPINES UP TO THE LAST MOMENTS OF HIS LIFE.

DEDICATED TODAY NOVEMBER 30, 2015 ON THE INITIATIVE OF THE BARANGAY GOVERNMENT OF SAN FRANCISCO, BULAKAN, BULACAN AS PART OF THE 119TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE GENERAL'S DEATH

ON THIS ROCK, ON NOVEMBER 30, 1896, KATIPUNERO AND SPANISH BLOOD FLOODED ANKLE-DEEP. THIS ROCK IS PART OF THE FLOOR OF THE CHILDREN'S BAPTISTERY OF THE SAN RAFAEL, BULACAN CHURCH. THIS ROCK IS A MUTE WITNESS TO ONE OF THE BLOODIEST BATTLES IN THE HISTORY OF THE PROVINCE OF BULACAN, BETWEEN THE KATIPUNEROS LED BY GENERAL ANCLETO ENRIQUEZ AND SPANISH SOLDIERS LED BY LT. COL. LOPEZ ARTEAGA.

THIS ROCK WAS OBTAINED IN THE YEAR 1968 FROM THE SAN RAFAEL, BULACAN CHURCH UPON THE REPRESENTATION OF MAYOR ARTEMIO MENESES AND THOSE ASSIGNED TO GET IT WERE THE FOLLOWING:

                               SGT. FRANCISCO HERNANDEZ

                               PAT. ROBERTO MORELOS

                               PAT. RICARDO MARCELO

                               PAT. OSCAR SALVADOR

Above are the translated Anacleto Enriquez historical markers and bust located in Brgy. San Francisco Bulakan, Bulacan, constructed as part of the "Liwasang Anacleto Enriquez"  which was dedicated on November 30, 2015 to commemorate the 119th anniversary of the hero's death. On the foreground is an original slab from the floor of the San Rafael church where the bloody battle took place, and which, very likely, could have been covered with ankle deep blood, as the accounts of the encounter have told.

Alfonso, Vicente and Jose Enriquez after the Revolution

After surviving the Battle of Tirad Pass, Alfonso, Vicente and Jose Enriquez got on with their lives. They raised their families, entered politics, and inherited their share from Vicente and Petrona Enriquez' estate. Vicente Enriquez finished his law studies and passed the bar exams. Alfonso Enriquez became Justice of the Peace of  Bulacan, Bulacan.  

Jose Enriquez, or "Lolo Pepe" was fortunate in electoral politics. He got elected mayor of Bulacan, Bulacan in 1912 and served until 1916. As stated, he died on January 18, 1965. He had three children: Emiliano, Solita, and Pacita.

Vicente Enriquez as a candidate for the Philippine Assembly From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Vicente Enriquez joined the fray in the contentious PRO vs ANTI rivalry of the Thirties, involving the rejection or acceptance by the Filipinos of the Hare-Hawes-Cutting Act.  He took the side of Sergio Osmeña and Manuel Roxas’ PRO.   As a PRO member, Vicente Enriquez ran for a seat in the Philippine Legislature, as representative of the first district of Bulacan province. He lost, however.

Vicente Enriquez married Josefa Rivera Ycasiano. They had ten children: Asuncion, Ramon, Luis, Remedios, Aurora, Salud, Maria, Lourdes, Jacinto, and Guillermo. The eldest, Asuncion became a nun with the Religious of the Assumption.

Luis "Ito" Enriquez married Juanita "Aning" Molina, daughter of Bulacan governor Jacinto Molina. They are the parents of former Bulacan mayor Vicente M. "Tito" Enriquez.

The Luis Enriquez - Juanita Molina Enriquez House, otherwise known as "The White House" in Bulacan, Bulacan. Former residence of Jacinto Molina, Bulacan provincial governor from 1938 to 1940. President Manuel L. Quezon slept in this house on his visits to Bulacan. 

Remedios, still alive as of this writing at 99 years old, married Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo, future Philippine senator. Her eldest son, Francisco "King" Rodrigo Jr., will marry Maria Elisa Cristobal Anson Roa or Boots Anson Roa on June 14, 2014.

By a twist of fate, Salud Enriquez married Mario del Pilar, nephew of Gregorio del Pilar.  Salud, or "Tiya Sally" and Mario named one of their sons Gregorio. Gregorio Enriquez del Pilar II became an anti-martial law activist and now teaches psychology at the University of the Philippines.

Maria married Dalmacio "Chito" Guidote. Lourdes married Fortunato Peña. Jacinto "Titong" Enriquez married Milagros "Mila" Santiago of Malolos. Mila Santiago Enriquez became a renowned Bulacan food historian, while one of their sons, Vicente "Bong" Enriquez III became a respected theatre director and founder of the town's theatre guild. Lastly, Guillermo "Momong" Enriquez  married Aurora Cruz.

Vicente Enriquez was afflicted with stomach cancer. He frequented Sibul Springs in San Miguel, Bulacan to cure his sickness. He even went to Vienna, Austria for treatment. My "Lolo Enteng" died on May 15, 1936 in Vienna, at the age of 56. 

Young Vicente Enriquez and Josefa Ycasiano with their children, circa 1920s. All in all they had ten children: Asuncion, Ramon, Luis, Remedios, Aurora, Salud, Maria, Lourdes, Jacinto, and Guillermo. From the Ching Reyes collection

Had Col. Vicente Enriquez, not survived the Battle of Tirad Pass, he would not have met Josefa Ycasiano and  these beautiful children would not have been born. One of them, Remedios,(2nd L-R back row) would marry Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo,who would become Philippine senator. She is still alive, at 99, as of this writing. On January 16, 2015, Remedios Enriquez Rodrigo was personally blessed by Pope Francis at the Mall of Asia Arena as she headed 4 generations of the Rodrigo family as they were presented to the Holy Father. From the Ching Reyes collection

Mrs. Remedios "Meding" Enriquez Rodrigo, widow of the late Senator Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo 
and last surviving child of Vicente SF Enriquez. This picture was taken during her 103rd birthday celebration  
Mrs. Rodrigo died age 104 on December 3, 2018.

Emiliano Enriquez, the eldest child of Jose Enriquez. I fondly called him "Tio Nanoy" He had two children by his first wife: Raul and Recaredo, and four by his second: Emelita (who graciously furnished many photos and manuscripts for this blog), Joselito, Juanita, and Emiliano Jr. I am most certain Jose Enriquez named him after General Emilio Aguinaldo. 

Jose Enriquez was elected Bulacan, Bulacan town mayor in 1913 and served until 1916. He is shown above with the town police force. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Bonifacio Enriquez

And, as for Bonifacio Enriquez, he became a lawyer and had a successful career in the judiciary. He became “Justice of the Peace” (Municipal Trial Court Judge) of three towns in Bulacan province namely: Polo (Valenzuela), Bocawe (Bocaue), and Bigaa (Balagtas). Bonifacio Enriquez also became one of the biggest landlords in Bulacan. In 1976, Bonifacio Enriquez was named "The Oldest Living Atenean." He died on February 18, 1980.

Bonifacio Enriquez married Virginia Villaroman of San Rafael Bulacan in 1914. They had three children: Recaredo, Rachel, and Eneida, whom he named after Virgil’s epic poem “Aeneid” Eneida Villaroman Enriquez, who died on November 2, 2012, was my mother, but that’s another story.

Dean Recaredo V. Enriquez, Bonifacio Enriquez' eldest child and my uncle, whom I fondly called  "Daddy Rec." Born on November 27, 1915, he finished his bachelors degree at the Ateneo and was about to become a Jesuit in 1945 or 1946 when he opted out of the Sacred Heart Novitiate to marry Lydia Garcia, with whom he begot seven children. He then began teaching philosophy at San Beda College, where he became one of the longest serving deans in its College of Liberal Arts.   

One story my mother always told me was that my direct grandfather, Bonifacio Enriquez, as a justice of the peace, officiated in the civil marriage of Eugenio Lopez Sr. and Pacita Moreno sometime in the late Twenties. The marriage was solemnized in picturesque Imbargo, the biggest mango orchard in Bulacan, and the jewel of Bonifacio Enriquez' estate.   

The Other Enriquez Siblings

The other Enriquez siblings didn’t do badly either. Severina Enriquez became the wife of Trinidad Icasiano, who became governor of Bulacan province. Paula Enriquez married Francisco Morelos, who belonged to another prominent Bulacan family. Laureano Enriquez became treasurer of San Ildefonso, Bulacan. Victoria Enriquez did not marry, but inherited the Enriquez ancestral house, which she bequeathed to her favorite nephew, Recaredo Enriquez, eldest child of Bonifacio Enriquez.

Mayor Jose Enriquez and the Bulacan, Bulacan police force. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

The Vicente Enriquez - Josefa Ycasiano house. It was inherited by Jacinto "Titong" Enriquez who married Milagros "Mila" Santiago of Malolos. Photo by Edwin Francisco

Jose Enriquez in formal attire. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Vicente and Jose Enriquez (9th and 10th L-R) with future president Manuel L. Quezon (4th L-R) at the Damortis, La Union train station,  April 5, 1930.  They were very active in the PRO and ANTI politics of the Thirties. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Jose Enriquez (1st L-R) paying  Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo a visit in the early Sixties From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

The Bulacan Bulacan Katipuneros attend an election of officers of "Veteranos ng Himagsikan" in Paombong Bulacan, 1938. Standing, in white, with arms akimbo,  near Gen. Aguinaldo, is Jose Enriquez. From the collection of Emelita Tolentino Enriquez

Judge Bonifacio Enriquez, youngest of the Enriquez children, and my direct grandfather. His youngest child, Eneida, whom he named after the epic poem Aeneid by Virgil, was my mother. He was "Justice of the Peace" of Polo (Valenzuela), Bocawe (Bocaue), and Bigaa (Balagtas). Bonifacio Enriquez officiated in the civil marriage of Eugenio Lopez Sr. and Pacita Moreno sometime in the late Twenties. Bonifacio Enriquez and Eugenio Lopez Sr. worked together as young lawyers in the law office of Don Francisco "Paco" A. Delgado, also from Bulacan, Bulacan. Bonifacio Enriquez  was the one who gave me my nickname. From the collection of Judge Luis Enriquez Reyes

This is the marker at the birthplace of Gen Gregorio del Pilar, right next the Bonifacio Enriquez residence.  Photo by Mike C. Reyes

The Bonifacio Enriquez house in San Jose Bulacan, Bulacan.Just a few meters to the right is the marker of  Gen. Gregorio del Pilar's birthplace. Anacleto Enriquez lived here.  Photo by Mike C. Reyes

The Gregorio del Pilar birthplace marker from another angle. Anacleto Enriquez lived at the house just a few meters away. The two were childhood friends, with Gregorio or "Goyo" idolizing Anacleto or "Etoy" Photo by Mike C. Reyes

The marker up close. Gen. Gregorio del Pilar was the first governor of the province of Bulacan.  Photo by Mike C. Reyes

In 1948, Bonifacio Enriquez donated the land on which thismarker of the birthplace of Gen. Gregorio del Pilar stands. It is just a few meters from his residence. Photo by Mike C. Reyes

The lady holding the fan in the middle, front row, is my direct grandmother, Virginia Villaroman Enriquez, wife of Bonifacio Enriquez.Having grown up in San Rafael, Bulacan, she wasa witness to the November 30, 1896  Battle of San Rafael. Mrs. Enriquez was a teacher by profession and went to the Philippine Normas School (PNS). This picture of Bulacan, Bulacan teachers was probably taken in the Thirties. The no.1 person last row (L-R) whose forehead is hidden is Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo, future senator and son-in-law of Vicente Enriquez. From my personal collection.

The last known photo of Bonifacio Enriquez'  children, taken during a Villaroman clan reunion held at the residence of Rep. Pablo V. Ocampo in Sta. Ana, Manila, in 1995. L-R, Atty. Rachel Enriquez Fidelino, who was Wage Commissioner under President Marcos,  Dr. Recaredo V. Enriquez,who was a long-time Dean of San Beda College, and Eneida Enriquez Reyes, my mother. At the extreme right is my wife Loida B. Reyes  

My mother Eneida Enriquez Reyes, (L) with her "ateng" Rachel Enriquez Fidelino 

in 1995, about to attend the annual St. Theresa's College Manila Homecoming

On November 20, 1927, Bonifacio Enriquez hosted a picnic at Imbargo, his mango orchard cum fishpond property in Bulacan, Bulacan. It was to celebrate the passing of the bar exams by Rosenda Villaroman Ocampo, who was married to Judge Jesus Ocampo, who was a brother to Resident Commissioner Pablo Ocampo, and the sister of my grandmother, Virginia Villaroman Enriquez. Bonifacio Enriquez is 10th person, last row (L-R). My grandmother is the last person, second row, (L-R).My mother, then Eneida Villaroman Enriquez, is 10th person, front row (L-R). She was only 4 years old. My aunt, then Rachel Villaroman Enriquez, is 8th person, front row (L-R).My uncle, Recaredo Villaroman Enriquez, is 12th person front row, (L-R)  The year after, 1928, Bonifacio Enriquez, as justice of the peace, would marry Eugenio Lopez Sr. and Pacita Moreno right in this mango orchard. From my personal collection.

 

 

  

      

 

Ninoy Aquino, 1978 Interim Batasang Pambansa Elections, CINACORPE, and April 6, 1978 Noise Barrage

The Interim Batasang Pambansa (IBP) Elections of 1978

In the early part of 1978, politics in the Philippines was about to undergo a big change. Previously, opposition to the martial law regime in Metro-Manila was dominated by the radical Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), with the reformist opposition being free-riders at best. The CPP’s primary method was the street rally, as was its wont in the pre-martial law days.  Now, Marcos was about to give the politicos an exercise that would enable them to deal with the CPP on equal terms.

This was an activity they were very good at, and which the public was extremely accustomed to.  I am referring to the April 7, 1978 Interim Batasang Pambansa (IBP) elections, but especially the campaign for the IBP’s 21 seats in Metro-Manila. The country’s last electoral exercise was the senatorial election of November 8, 1971, in which the opposition Liberal Party took 5 seats in the Philippine Senate, with the administration Nacionalista Party taking 3 seats. Marcos knew the opposition was already salivating for another electoral bout. He also knew that, despite the remoteness of victory, they could not resist the elections he was dangling at them.  

The IBP was created by the first of nine amendments to the 1973 Philippine constitution which were “overwhelmingly” approved in the November 16, 1976 referendum-plebiscite. The members of the IBP included “the incumbent President of the Philippines, representatives elected from the different regions of the nation, those who shall not be less than eighteen years of age elected by their respective sectors, and those chosen by the incumbent President from the members of the Cabinet." The IBP was intended to be a transitional body as the Philippines shifted from a presidential to a parliamentary form of government. It convened on June 12, 1978.

For the IBP elections, leadership of the opposition fell on the shoulders of imprisoned former senator Benigno S. “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. Along with Liberal Party leaders Jovito R. Salonga and Gerardo de Leon Roxas, Aquino had earlier taken a boycott stance, but later changed to participation when he saw the elections as a chance to mingle with the people after six years behind bars. He related this change of heart in his historic TV interview during the campaign.     

Lakas ng Bayan (Laban)

Aquino proceeded to build a new political party. He named the party “Lakas ng Bayan” or “Laban.” Laban decided to field candidates only in Metro-Manila, then called Region IV-A, where there were 21seats up for grabs. Laban chose Metro-Manila as the battleground because it reckoned Marcos would hesitate to cheat there, and it was the best place to make its case to the world. Besides, it was the best way to maximize the opposition’s meager resources. Aquino also announced that should Marcos not allow him to campaign in the streets of Manila, he intended to campaign from his cell.

Of the 21 Laban candidates, only two were outright CPP elements. They were Alex Boncayao of the Bukluran ng Manggagawang Pilipino (BMP) and Trinidad “Trining” Herrera from  from the labor and urban poor sectors, respectively. Another two candidates were sympathetic to the CPP, and they were Charito Planas and Jerry Barican. The rest of the ticket was a motley of pre-martial law national and local politicians, civic leaders, former constitutional convention delegates, and lawyers.

The prominent candidates, aside from Ninoy Aquino, were former senator Francisco “Soc” Rodrigo, former education secretary Alejandro “Anding” Roces, former Comelec chairman Jaime “Jimmy” Ferrer, former student leader Jerry Barican, former “Young Turk” congressmen Ramon “Monching” Mitra and Neptali Gonzales, and perennial senatorial candidate Juan T. David.

The Laban lineup represented a fragile coalition of Philippine Left and non-Left forces out to engage in electoral politics, the first since the declaration of martial law six years before. The small number of Left candidates in the Laban ticket, however, was a measure of the influence the CPP was exerting on Ninoy Aquino’s bloc. It was also an indication that the CPP leadership was not completely sold on participating in the IBP elections.

What was giving energy to the CPP’s participation in the IBP elections was the single-minded determination of its Manila-Rizal (MR) leadership. Filemon “Popoy” Lagman, MR’s passionate leader, looked at the election’s campaign as an opportunity to improve the CPP’s crowd-drawing capacity in Metro-Manila, regardless of the polls’ outcome. As always for the past three years, Lagman passionately viewed the exercise in the context of his much awaited general people’s uprising or “Rebolusyonaryong Sigwa” that will topple the Marcos dictatorship.

Kilusang Bagong Lipunan (KBL)

For the IBP elections, President Marcos created the political party called Kilusang Bagong Lipunan (KBL). KBL fielded candidates nationwide, and predictably enjoyed the machinery, finance, and logistics of the martial law regime. In Metro-Manila, it fielded a slate led by the First Lady, Imelda R. Marcos, who was concurrently the region’s governor, and human settlements minister.

The other prominent KBL candidates in Metro-Manila were: Deputy Human Settlements Minister and Imelda gofer Jose Conrado “Joly” Benitez, businessman Fred J. Elizalde, broadcaster and former senator Edgar U. Ilarde, former senator Arturo Tolentino, labor leader Roberto Oca, diplomat, statesman, soldier, journalist and former UP president Carlos P. Romulo, former Supreme Court justices Querube Makalintal and Jose P. Bengzon, former ambassador to the US Emilio M. Abello, and lawyer Rolando B. Zamora.

The Meeting to Establish CINACORPE

It was a foregone conclusion that Marcos was going to cheat in the IBP elections, and cheat massively. In the vain hope that at least some in the Laban slate would make it, an election watchdog brigade was seen as helpful by anti-Marcos civic leaders. These people were not part of the Laban machinery, but nonetheless sympathized with Ninoy Aquino and his candidates.  

Their idea was to mobilize volunteers who would be deployed as watchdog teams near the thousands of Metro-Manila precincts. These volunteers would report and document election irregularities such as vote-buying, ballot box snatching, and voter intimidation. I do not remember the exact number of precincts existing in Metro-Manila in 1978, but I remember that the civic leaders said around 10,000 volunteers were needed.

My assignment in the IBP campaign was to touch base with these civic leaders, who were fiercely anti-martial law, but were likewise fervently anti-communist.  I was instructed to help them establish an election watchdog group that would be independent of Laban.   When they were first approached by Left forces regarding the formation of such a group, they expressed misgivings, stating that generating the required number of volunteers was impossible. My job was to reassure them that enough warm bodies would come forward for this dangerous task.

In January or February 1978, someone called me at home and told me to attend a large evening meeting at the residence of Teresa Feria Nieva in San Lorenzo Village in Makati. I was told that Mrs. Nieva had been one of the leaders of the pre-martial law election watchdog Citizens National Electoral Assembly (CNEA). I also learned that she was the elder sister of my National Secretariat of Social Action (NASSA) colleague Maring Feria, and that Teresa and Maring were the sisters of lawyer, jurist, and constitutional convention delegate Jose Y. Feria

The meeting was held in a large rectangular patio in the Nieva residence. It started at about 8 in the evening. The chairs were placed at the edges of the patio in an oval configuration, with a broad expanse of floor separating the participants. In attendance were various representatives of Left influenced/controlled NGOs, peoples’ organizations, and civic organizations. This event happened 36 years ago and memories do fade, but I estimate some 25 to 30 people came.

I have forgotten who presided. My best bet is that it must have been Oscar “Oca” Francisco, a community organizer from NASSA, he with the booming voice.  I represented the youth sector as a former UP student, and being only 23 years old. There were other youth groups who were represented though, such as Student Catholic Action Manila (SCA-Manila) and Young Christian Workers of the Philippines (YCWP). There were also Oblates of Mary Immaculate (OMI) young priests and seminarians. Teresa Nieva and her husband Tony welcomed us, and I think Mrs. Nieva must have started the ball rolling.

The ones I remember present, aside from Oscar “Oca” Francisco, were Gerardo “Gerry” Bulatao from the Association of Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines (AMRSP), former detainee and Jose Rizal College (JRC) professor Loretta Ann “Etta” Rosales, businessman and former constitutional convention delegate Jose “Joe” Concepcion, activist priest Fr. Francisco “Fritz” Araneta SJ, and Fr. Francisco Tantoco, representing the  Knights of Columbus Philippines (K of C Philippines). Concepcion, Nieva, Araneta, and the Fr. Tantoco were not Left sympathizers or supporters. They were there mainly because of their anti-Marcos and pro-democracy sentiments. 

CINACORPE Almost Gets Nipped in the Bud

After each person had identified him/herself, the meeting discussed two things basically: the current political situation in the Philippines at that time, and the feasibility of forming an election watchdog group. There was not much discussion or debate on the political situation, and that part was done in about thirty minutes. The nitty-gritty came when it came to the organizational part.

After the group agreed on the tasks of the watchdog, Mr. Concepcion said that it was useless to even start it if there was no certainty that we could mobilize at least 7,000 volunteers. He then asked the group how many individuals each could commit. This question was followed by a long silence. Mr. Concepcion interrupted the quietness with a frank proposal to call the whole project off. Mr. Concepcion’s threat to abort the preparations was followed by yet another moment of silence. 

The watchdog group was threatened with death even before it could be born. The Left activists, who each had instructions to goad the civic leaders present to form the watchdog group, were quietly panicking.  They all knew that without the guarantee of sufficient election watchers, Mr. Concepcion and Mrs. Nieva would pull out of the undertaking. And, without the two, there was not a chance in hell we could pull the thing off under the intense watch of martial law.

Mr. Concepcion and Mrs. Nieva were well-nigh indispensable because they had the network, experience, influence, and stature to put up an election watchdog group. They had been doing it as early as the Sixties, with the CNEA and an entity called the Citizens National Committee for Referenda, Plebiscites and Elections (CINACORPE). Furthermore, with people like them in the watchdog group, it would not appear like a communist front organization and turn off potential supporters or invite suppression from the dictatorship.

I Do Some Heroics

It was at this point that I did some desperate heroics. I told myself that I had to do something to save the situation. My mind was running. I also thought that a middle-of-the-road watchdog group was very necessary in the coming elections, which would pit a liberal-Left alliance against a dictatorship. There had to be a group, I said to myself, which would watch the precincts and expose the assured irregularities to the foreign media. Besides, it raced in my mind that I was strictly assigned to see through the group’s formation, so my best judgment demanded I do something.

Then, I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with CPP Manila-Rizal secretary Filemon “Popoy” Lagman a few months earlier in a CPP safehouse in Bulacan. I was interviewing Lagman for a report I was preparing about the CPP strength in Metro-Manila. I asked him how many students the CPP could mobilize for the planned actions during the IBP campaign. I recall Lagman gruffly telling me that with enough preparation, the CPP could easily put 10,000 students in the streets. I knew Lagman had a reputation for exaggerating his estimates, but at least I had a figure to cling to, I told myself.

To break the impasse, I raised my hand and spoke up. Posturing as best as I could, I told the meeting that the UP Student Committee for Student Rights and Welfare (SCSRW) I was once a chairman of could muster 7,000 students to volunteer for the watchdog group. I even dropped the names of a few UP student leaders as contact persons, when Mrs. Nieva demanded it. For good measure, I also told the group that I also had contacts with the Columban priests of SCA-Manila, and they too, could provide many volunteers.

My "7,000" Saves the Day

Mr. Concepcion’s face lighted up. He seemed relieved by what I said, and visibly glad that the watchdog group had a chance. Mrs. Nieva was also appeased, although I could sense unease in her countenance. I also discerned that she suspected I was bluffing, although she said she was glad of what I said. And, in reaction to my unabashed grandiloquence, the other activists in attendance could not help but feel relieved. They gave me grateful looks, which I acknowledged. What was amazing was that they actually believed my group had that many people.

After my “commitment” of 7,000 students, the group started to plan for training the volunteers, by discussing the contents of a training handbook. Mr. Concepcion also proposed to call the watchdog group CINACORPE ---- this was rousingly approved. It was almost 11:00 pm, and, after some snacks, the meeting was thanked and closed by Mrs. Nieva.

When I got home that night, Oscar “Oca” Francisco called me, and congratulated me for what I had done. I will never forget his line – “Your 7,000 saved the day.” I went to bed overjoyed with what I had done. I was a good soldier and had faithfully done my assignment. The following morning, I sent word to the higher ups that I had committed 7,000 or more activists to volunteer for CINACORPE. I warned them that they had better come up with this number on Election Day or else the trust of the allies would diminish greatly. I later learned that day that word of CINACORPE’s creation was spreading rapidly in the activist community.

In the two months before the elections, I became very busy working with Jose Concepcion and Teresa Nieva in getting more civic and pro-democracy personalities to participate in the newly formed CINACORPE. The three of us were CINACORPE’s de-facto secretariat. I often rode with Mrs. Nieva in her car, with her as the driver.

We made the rounds in Metro-Manila, visiting likely supporters. Mrs. Nieva phoned the contacts from her home, then off we went.  I remember having meetings in the K of C headquarters in Intramuros, in Cardinal Jaime Sin’s office at Villa San Miguel, St. Scholastica’s College, St’ Joseph’s College, barangay offices in Mandaluyong and Caloocan, and in Mr. Concepcion’s residence in Forbes Park. I also remember riding in his new Mercedes-Benz, with him and Mrs. Nieva at the back. All this time, we were busy writing CINACORPE’s handbook. The group held most of its meetings in Mrs. Nieva’s residence, with Etta Rosales being present not a few times.

The Laban Campaign in Metro-Manila: Kris Aquino Speaks at a Laban Rally

Laban took maximum advantage of the rally permits made possible by the IBP campaign in Metro Manila. Wherever there was a Laban rally, the Left mobilized its people to give the gatherings massive and boisterous audiences. These were instructed to make as much slogan-shouting and agitation as possible.

In a big way, it was muscle flexing time for the communists and national democrats. Never since September 21, 1972, had they enjoyed so much freedom.  For the first time, moreover, the innocent bystanders were no longer afraid to attend opposition rallies. Their numbers made the crowds swell all the more.

Ninoy Aquino's youngest child, Kris Aquino, just over 6 years old, rattles off  from memory
the names of the entire Laban IBP slate, to the delight of the crowd, in this Laban rally in
Plaza Sta. Cruz Manila, a few days before the 1978 IBP elections.

I attended many of these rallies, but the one I remember most was that held in Plaza Goiti, which was located in front of Sta. Cruz church in Manila. It was about 7 in the evening and the April heat was overpowering.  When I arrived, the plaza was sweltering with several thousand people. Alex Boncayao was on a stage, stirring the crowd with one rabble-rousing tirade after another.

Alex Boncayao seemed never to get tired, always speaking at the top of his high-pitched voice. I then heard Trining Herrera speak. She spoke in a calm, almost detached manner, in complete contrast to the blistering Boncayao. She spoke mostly about her torture and arrest by military agents, because of her urban poor organizing activities under ZOTO.

After a number of speakers whom I have already forgotten, a 7-year-old Kris Aquino spoke. I only heard her and not see her, because of the thick crowd. After a brief intro, the child glowingly spoke of her father, who at that time had been imprisoned for 6 years. I tried to raise my head above the crowd by standing on a concrete embankment to see Kris Aquino, but I was just too short and far from the stage see her. Be that as it may, I remember most her emotional account of the Aquino family visits to the detained Ninoy, and her plaintive plea for votes in behalf of her captive father. After Kris Aquino, her brother, Benigno Aquino III, delivered an impassioned, albeit forgettable speech.

March 10, 1978: Ninoy Aquino’s “Face the Nation” Interview

On the night of March 10, 1978, I watched Ninoy Aquino’s much awaited TV interview in a friend’s house on Annapolis St. in Cubao. Ninoy was not allowed to campaign in the streets as he had hoped. He was instead granted by Marcos a single live TV interview on the Channel 9 program “Face the Nation.” He was supposed to be grilled by a hostile panel composed of Enrique “Pocholo” Romualdez, Teddy Owen, and one other guy in dark glasses whose name I have already forgotten. Ronnie Nathanielsz, another Marcos minion, was the moderator.

Instead, the panel ended up being mesmerized by Aquino’s splendid performance. The foursome, in the first five minutes of the program, went through the motions of asking loaded and accusatory questions, all of which had nothing to do with the elections. Aquino seemed to have anticipated this, and immediately took the offensive. For the next hour or so, he argued his case, about not being a communist, why he chose to boycott the military commission trying him, and about his work “with” and not “for” the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). He did so with the classic aplomb of a senator speaking on the hallowed floor of the old Philippine Senate.

The “bondying” or baby image was not there anymore.  Six years of detention had visibly aged Ninoy and removed all baby fat. He was wearing a new hair-do, with the crew-cut being replaced by thick locks covering his entire scalp. Also, the trade-mark white barong-tagalog with rolled-up sleeves and dark pants had been replaced by matching white bush-jacket and white pants. The new outfit gave Aquino a rugged appearance, which gave justice to the night’s mood of standing up to a dictatorship.  

But the vintage brainpower and high-speed delivery were still there, now heightened by seething anger. His memory seemed to have even improved in the loneliness of his cell, as he rattled off numbers, names, and places prodigiously. I remember most the way he effortlessly pronounced the name of Thai diplomat Sompong Sucharitkul!  To make matters worse for the interviewers, he seemed to have done his homework extensively --- leafing through a thick file to expose a secret Marcos plan to hire a foreign PR company to shore up his image.

Ninoy Aquino Steals the Show

It was Aquino’s show for most of the two-hour program, as the three-man panel seemed to just lazily sit on their chairs like studio props, enchantingly disarmed by this gifted man. As usual, Aquino could instantaneously shift from angry to resigned, from defiant to distressed, and from combative to friendly.

He was also a master of the sound byte, long before the term became a norm. When asked why he was running despite certain defeat, he related having told his doting mother, “Ina, kating-kati na akong makipagusap sa masa.” (Mother, I’m itching to talk to the masses)

When Ronnie Nathanielzs implied that he was unduly questioning the integrity of the military commission trying him, he curtly replied that it was their circumstance of being Marcos employees that was affecting their judgment, ending this with a deadly quip --- “Ikaw Ronnie, empleyado ka ng NMPC (National Media Production Center), maaatake mo ba si Marcos?” (You Ronnie, you are an employee of NMPC , can you criticize Marcos?)

When Aquino was given the last five minutes of the program to pitch for Laban, he flashed a most disarming smile, and profusely thanked the moderator for giving him time for a “commercial.” He first expressed his relief that he still had enough time to do so, after spending the better part of the show defending himself against various charges.

Aquino then related a heart rending, against-all-odds story that successfully painted the opposition, and himself in particular, as the intrepid underdogs. The way Aquino endearingly told it, I thought, all the lolos and lolas (grandfathers and grandfathers) out there must have been crying. Referring to the Comelec and its chairman, Aquino uttered something like “Kanila na yung rules, kanila pa yung referee, pero ok lang.” (They own the rules and they own the referee, but it’s ok)

Ronnie Nathanielsz then thanked the guest and the panel, who by then, had been effectively stunned by Aquino’s personality.  Nathanielsz subsequently closed the program. All of us watching in the living room looked at each other and agreed that we had just watched a virtuoso performance, one that will be talked about ages and ages hence.

The April 6 1978 “Noise Barrage”: I Saw It All in A Taxi Ride 

On the night of April 6, 1978, the historic “Noise Barrage” occurred in in Metro-Manila. This was the first non-CPP initiated mass protest under martial law.  It was the brainchild of the Partido Demokratiko-Sosyalista ng Pilipinas (PDSP) aka the Social-Democrats, aka the “Soc-Dems.” At that time PDSP was led by Fr. Romeo “Archie” Intengan SJ.

The call to conduct the protest was made by the PDSP about a month before the elections and mainly through word-of-mouth and leaflets. It told the public to make as much noise as possible with anything they could lay their hands on, such as pots, pans, and car horns, on 7 or 8 pm of April 6, the eve of the IBP elections. It confirmed that Laban not only had an alliance with the Left, but with the PDSP as well.

I decided to survey the extent of the noise barrage, as soon as it started. I took a taxi cab, and told it to go around Metro-Manila. Along the way, I picked up fellow activist and now UP professor Jo Cabuniag. Our jaws dropped at what we saw. As the cab made its way through such thoroughfares as EDSA, Aurora Boulevard, UP Campus, Quezon Boulevard, Quiapo, and Taft Avenue we saw people lining both sides of the streets banging on pots, pans, and wash basins. Cars, jeepneys, taxi cabs, buses, and trucks were also rhythmically honking their horns as if to shout the middle accented Laban word. The entire metropolis seemed to have come out in support of Ninoy Aquino’s candidates.  

Others were shouting, flashing the Laban “L” sign with their thumb and index finger, and holding Laban emblazoned placards and streamers. Along the route, I saw several burning tires in the middle of the road, which slowed down the traffic. I could have sworn even the prostitutes plying the Quezon Avenue and Quiapo areas joined in, judging by their outfits. They flaunted 1 meter long 2 feet wide pieces of cloth on which was painted “Laban,” and on Quezon Avenue near Aberdeen Court, many jammed the signs on the cab’s windows, as I told the driver to slow down.

I asked the cab driver to repeat the route we had just taken, and still Jo and I saw the same thing --- people making noise and shouting their throats hoarse. Our road trip lasted about two hours. Jo and I called it a day at about 10:30 pm on Roosevelt Avenue with people still fearlessly remonstrating. I would say that, easily, two hundred thousand people participated in this historic action.

For a moment, I had the wishful thought that Laban could perform well in the next day’s polls. I also grudgingly admitted that our perennial adversaries, the Social-Democrats, had scored a magnificent coup. They judged the people’s temper well, and had brilliantly figured out a form of protest. Their indubitable logic was: if you cannot get the people to march on the streets because of restrictions, then the next best thing is for them to make noise, and a lot of it. Absolutely vivid thinking by the Soc-Dems.  From thence on, even the communists would adopt this protest form, even using the same name that has stuck through the years --- “Noise Barrage”

The IBP Election Results

As for the April 7, 1978 Philippine elections, Marcos made sure that not one of the Laban candidates would win. He did it with massive spending, cheating, and intimidation. His principal instruments were thousands of thugs or “Barangay Tanods” (village watchmen) who engaged in such activities as ballot box snatching, vote buying, intimidating watchers and teacher canvassers, and hauling paid voters (hakot). Besides, if a KBL victory could not be produced at the barangay level, there was always the Commission on Elections (Comelec) who would doctor the final results and proclaim the winners. The Comelec chairman at that time was none other than the great Marcos underling Leonardo B. Perez.

KBL swept the elections in Metro-Manila, bagging all 21 IBP Region IV-A seats. Waldo Perfecto, an unknown KBL candidate who was no. 21 in the final tally, got more votes than Ninoy Aquino. Alex Boncayao, one of the two CPP candidates in the Laban slate, was so incensed at Laban’s “defeat” that he lost no time in joining the New People’s Army (NPA) after the elections. He subsequently died in an encounter with government troops in Bongabong, Nueva Ecija.

Trining Herrera, the other leftist candidate, went into hiding.  The moderate candidates and their supporters, like Francisco “Soc” Rodrigo, Teofisto Guingona, and former senator Lorenzo Tañada, tried to stage a protest rally against the election cheating, but were quickly arrested. Ramon Mitra, a Laban candidate, made a famous promise not to shave his beard “until Leonardo Perez learns how to count.”                

The Failure of CINACORPE

As for the CINACORPE, little came of it. The 7,000 student volunteers that CPP –MR head Filemon “Popoy” Lagman told me he could produce did not materialize. And to think I was so naïve as to even slightly trust his word. Mrs. Nieva and I set up office at the Knights of Columbus headquarters in Intramuros. Up to this time we had not met any volunteers yet, when they should have showed up a week before the elections so we could train/orient them.

We waited for the volunteers to come, intending to give them even cursory training, but all who came were some 30 or so high-school students from SCA-Manila. I could see the frustration on Mrs Nieva’s face. When they arrived, Mrs. Nieva was completely aghast at their youth, immediately saying, “They’re just babies!” She felt they were too young to stand up to the armed goons who would surely descend on the precincts on Election Day. Not even the UP student activists that I had bragged so much about came. Needless to say, I was so embarrassed, both to Mr. Concepcion and Mrs. Nieva for falling short of my commitments. All of our problems were overshadowed, however, by reports of massive irregularities in  thousands of Metro-Manila election precincts.   

 

        

    

     

        

  

    

The Three Anti-Martial Law Rallies in the Philippines in 1977 and My Encounter with Cardinal Sin

The May 1, 1977 Luneta Anti-Martial Law Rally

In 1977, the significant anti-martial law protest rallies were: the May 1 Labor Day rally at Luneta or Rizal Park, the August 25 rally at San Marcelino St., and the September 21 rally at Rizal Avenue (Avenida Rizal).

The May 1 rally wanted to showcase the newfound strength of the Bukluran ng Manggagawang Pilipino (BMP) in the Philippine labor sector. The BMP is the precursor of today’s Kilusang Mayo Uno (KMU).  It was, however, broken up by the police barely after it started. Taking advantage of the Sunday crowd at the park, the rally participants, numbering around 2,000, surreptitiously assembled at Rizal Park at about 3 pm. However, as they closed ranks, they were either dispersed or arrested.

I myself got picked up, together with my friend Jess Agustin. At that time, Jess and I were working for the National Secretariat of Social Action (NASSA) of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP). We were very close friends, and we decided to attend the rally together. We were shoved into the back seat of a Western Police District (WPD) Toyota patrol car and brought to the landmark WPD headquarters at UN Avenue.

It was a short ride, but I was scared out of my wits. It was my second time to be arrested under martial law. I will not forget the busy chatter of the police radio in the car. The guys at the other end were jabbering about the progress of the dispersal operations. At the headquarters, I saw other rally participants, some of whom I knew personally, who were sitting on the cement floor of a long corridor, waiting to be interrogated.

We were released about 30 minutes later after I bribed our captors with a single pack of cigarettes! We were probably too inconsequential to be detained lengthily. Remarkably, Jess and I summoned enough daring to return to Rizal Park where we saw more activists being accosted by the police. I even saw a diminutive Benedictine nun, whom I knew to be Sr. Noemi Francisco, being twirled around by a cop who had discovered that she had slyly wrapped a long anti martial law protest streamer under her habit from the waist down. This rally, although it lasted very briefly, enabled the radical sector to flex its muscles in preparation for the bigger September 21 rally

The August 25, 1977 San Marcelino Anti-Martial Law Rally

In August 1977, the World Law Congress of the International Congress of Jurists (ICJ) was to be held in Manila. The theme of the congress was "Human Rights as Essential to Progress Toward World Peace Under the Rule of Law."

In the mid-afternoon of August 25, 1977, a symposium was scheduled to be held at the auditorium of St. Theresa's College Manila (STC-Manila) at San Marcelino St.. The stated purpose of the symposium was to discuss the theme of the World Law Congress.

However, the not-so concealed agenda of the organizers, whom I remember were the Association of Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines (AMRSP) and the National Council of Churches in the Philippines (NCCP) was to hold an anti-martial law rally, which would denounce the widespread human rights violations of the Marcos regime. In the CPP memos calling for this event, it was touted as another big push towards the “rebolusyonaryong sigwa.”  

The crowd that had gathered in the small plaza in front of STC-Manila and Saint Vincent de Paul church was the usual mix of students, laborers, nuns, priests, and seminarians, and was more than 5,000 strong. The square was enclosed by a security wall consisting of a low concrete wall which supported a long row of pointed steel bars, whose tips resembled sharp arrow heads. 

The Philippine Police Disperses the San Marcelino Rally

However, the STC-Manila administration cancelled the use of the auditorium at the last minute. The rally organizers then decided to hold the rally in the plaza itself. The most prominent person in the crowd was Senator Jose W. "Pepe" Diokno.

The rallyists were now getting agitated, as speaker after speaker condemned the martial law regime, using the most poisonous words they could muster. It was around 5 pm. The most cheered and applauded speaker was livewire UP student leader Susan Tagle, who was the emcee.

Tagle regaled the crowd with her sarcastic bombast and acerbic wit.   The speakers, representing the different social sectors, were all this time encouraged by the seeming absence of riot police, and the crowd’s rousing response. They smugly thought the authorities would let this one pass without an incident.

A little after an hour into the rally, the police did arrive, and in full force. They suddenly barged into the enclosed rally site, and lost no time dispersing the protestors with rattan truncheons and water hoses that spewed red colored water. The dye was used by the police to mark and arrest those who attended the rally.  

Tagle grabbed the microphone and tried to rally the troops. She heroically appealed to the protestors to stand their ground, succeeding at this for a brief moment. However, the violence being inflicted by the police was just too much, and bedlam ensued. It was everyone for him/herself, as the crowd tried to flee the riot police.

As the police dispersed the rally, the water soaked Tagle was surrounded by nuns, to prevent her from being arrested. They then boarded a public bus on San Marcelino to get away from the rally site.

However, the police boarded the buses to flush out the rallyists, and soon they spotted Tagle. A scuffle ensued as they dragged her away, with the nuns refusing to give her up.

When she was finally arrested, Susan Tagle was whisked to headquarters and interrogated. The notorious Lt. Rolando Abadilla showed her photos of rallyists, and asked her who were giving her orders. Abadilla was trying to pinpoint the underground operatives who composed the rally's "central command."

Tagle just sneered at her captors and refused to reveal anything. Angered, Abadilla put out his cigarette on one of Susan's palms.

Many demonstrators had no choice but to climb over the pointed steel bars that enclosed the church plaza, lest they get hit by the water cannons and the nasty rattan sticks, or get trampled by the stampede. Very few got out through the main gate, which in any case was too narrow for a crowd that size to quickly pass through.

In the process, many protesters got pierced and lacerated by the razor like tips, and their clothes torn. One female rallyist, Rosario Trono, was pierced through in through in one leg by the steel bars, and she hung upside down the fence helpless. Despite her predicament, the police still trained their powerful hoses at her, as she screamed in pain. 

However, most of the rallyists were young and nimble, and clambered over the wicked fence unhurt.  Once outside, they scampered in all directions on San Marcelino. Many ran to nearby Taft Avenue, where they boarded jeepneys to safety.

The rally was over, with the brutal dispersal lasting just a few minutes. Unfortunately, there were no bystanders that could have served as force-multiplier for the rally, like what would happen in the Rizal Avenue protest action less than a month later. Neither did the captive media cover the event.

This inspiring rally in front of STC-Manila and the Saint Vincent de Paul Church at San Marcelino has scarcely been recorded in Philippine martial law history books, but it certainly occupies a permanent place in Philippine activist lore. It is recalled again and again in reunion after reunion by the now aging Filipino martial law activists.

The 1977 Human Rights Awareness Campaign: My Encounter with Cardinal Sin

About three months before this rally, weekly symposiums about human rights were held in various Left-influenced colleges and universities in Manila and Quezon City.  Known anti-Marcos and anti-martial law personalities, like former senators Jovito R. Salonga and Jose W. Diokno, spoke frequently.

Also leading this human rights awareness campaign were the AMRSP and the NCCP. I was in the secretariat of this effort, which was initially planned in the United Church of Christ of the Philippines (UCCP) building along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA), right next to the NCCP building. This planning meeting at the UCCP building sometime in October 1977 is very important to me, because it was on that day that I saw my wife-to-be, Loida Buyao, for the first time. But that is another story.

I was given the job of personally inviting Cardinal Jaime Sin to one of these symposiums.  I was then working on a youth survey project for the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP), under its Commission on Youth. I had also just completed a one-year contract as Youth Coordinator for the CBCP’s National Secretariat of Social Action (NASSA).

In other words, the higher-ups must have decided that I had enough credentials and stature to ask for an appointment with the Cardinal at his Villa San Miguel residence and invite him to speak at a human rights symposium sponsored by religious radicals. At any rate, these “qualifications” emboldened me enough, so I said yes. I was only 22 years old then.

In those pre-EDSA days, the anti-martial law forces looked to Cardinal Sin as an ally, albeit with mixed feelings. The reason behind this ambivalence was Cardinal Sin's policy of "critical collaboration" towards the Marcos regime. It plainly meant that Cardinal Sin was approaching the regime and the Philippine democracy movement on an issue-to-issue basis. This was not acceptable to those in the broad front, and least of all to the radical Left who, at that time, was its motive force. That said, the organizers of this human rights awareness campaign were willing to walk the extra mile in asking Cardinal Sin to participate. And that responsibility fell on my shoulders.

Setting an appointment by phone was the easy part. At Villa San Miguel, I was ushered in by a staff, whom I remember was a Daughters of Charity (DC) nun, into the Cardinal Sin’s spacious office. It was well lighted by a big window, had red wall-to-wall carpeting, and had lots of fine wood paneling. There were two chairs with red suede upholstery facing each other in front of Cardinal Sin's imposing desk. I chose to sit on the chair on the left.

After some friendly and perfunctory banter in which he asked how I was doing at NASSA and which lasted about fifteen minutes, I handed him the official letter of invitation. I am not sure but the invitations must have been signed by NCCP and AMRSP heads Rev. La Verne Mercado and Fr. Lope Castillo MSC respectively.  I explained the purpose of the human rights symposiums and invited him to be the main speaker in one of them. Not taking any chances he might not have understood what I said, I gave him a brochure explaining everything.

The Cardinal told me he would study the matter first, and asked me to come back several days later for his answer. He was effusive with praise for what I was doing, and sneaked in a joke and a wisecrack now and then.  The witticisms, for good measure, were all followed by a hearty laugh. Then, as a parting shot, Cardinal Sin praised the organizers for their commitment to human rights, while writing a dedication on the blank starting page of a book on Chinese proverbs. To my amusement, the page already had a dedication from the giver, a man named "Daniel." Cardinal Sin told me he was giving the book to me as a remembrance of our meeting. That was late 1977. I have kept and treasured the book to this day.

Cardinal Sin's dedication went:

Dear Beto:

This book comes from a friend but I am giving this to you as a friend.

+ J. Card. Sin

The meeting was held in Cardinal Sin's office in Villa San Miguel, Mandaluyong City. He was a very sincere man, and genuinely sympathized with what I was doing as an anti-martial law activist. He was smiling as he scribbled the dedication. 

When I came back to Villa San Miguel to find out if Cardinal Sin had accepted the invitation, I did not know I was in for a shock. I passed through his secretary the way I did in our first meeting, and I sat on the same chair. The Cardinal, unlike in our first meeting, was now dead serious. His first move was to call in a priest in his late thirties, whom he said occupied a responsible position in his staff, which position I have now completely forgotten. His name was Fr. Gabriel Reyes, and he sat on the chair in front of me. It was obvious he was one of Cardinal Sin’s able lieutenants.

Cardinal Sin proceeded to give me the lowdown. A very important general in the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) had told him that the human rights symposium I was inviting him to attend was actually sponsored by the CPP, who were using AMRSP and NASSA as legal fronts.  He said the general also told him the communists were just out to exploit his name to give credibility to the gathering, and that he should not to attend it.

But Cardinal Sin was reserving the worst for the last. I thought I was already shocked, but his last sentence was the real bombshell. Cardinal Sin revealed to me that the general mentioned my name as one of the “hard core” elements organizing the human rights symposiums. Upon hearing this accusation, I got so numb I could not speak.

After this tirade by Cardinal Sin, it was Fr. Gabriel Reyes’ turn to speak. He spoke slowly, and in a polite yet direct manner, explaining to me the decision of the cardinal not to attend. Cardinal Sin was now very still, stoically silent, and with a blank expression on his face. I felt that he had already said his piece and was just letting Fr. Reyes finish me off and send me away. I was right.

After a few motherhood sentences, Fr. Gabriel Reyes gently told me that the meeting was over and I had to go. By now I had regained my composure and I tried to explain my side.  But he plainly and bluntly reiterated that the meeting was over.  I could have read his mind right there and then, saying “Nice try kid!”

There was a brief silence in the room, as the two cassocked men stared at me accusingly. The awkward lull was only broken when I thanked both men, trying to be as gracious as I could. I wanted to tell them that everything I was representing was legitimate and for a noble cause, yet the looks on their faces told me they were not in a mood for any explanations. This was another triumph for the red-scare tactics of the military, I told myself. 

After bowing meekly in utter rejection and embarrassment, I half-consciously stepped out of Cardinal Sin’s office on the second floor of stately Villa San Miguel. I descended the carpeted stairs into the first floor lobby, whose broad front entrance led to the beautiful gardens outside. After negotiating the long driveway, I dazedly stepped out of Villa San Miguel’s tall gate and found myself on busy Shaw Boulevard. I grabbed the first available taxi and went home.

The September 21, 1977 Rizal Avenue Anti-Martial Law Rally

The September 21, 1977 Rizal Avenue rally protested the fifth anniversary of the declaration of martial law. Previous to this mass action, the anniversary of martial law had not been the object of open protest, and certainly not denounced in such a scathing way, as this rally did. With so much at stake on this rally, the CPP Manila-Rizal committee (MR) prepared and planned way in advance for the gathering, with party memorandums mentioning it as early as February or March 1977.

As with the 1976 rallies, this demonstration was part of the general effort towards generating a “rebolusyonaryong sigwa” (revolutionary storm) that would get the participation of 50,000 to 100,000 people, to finally topple the Marcos regime.

MR worked hard to ensure “maximum mobilization” or the biggest participation possible, for this historic demonstration. It set at its target 7,000 to 10.000 people to attend  the audacious rally. The protesters were to converge at the busy intersection of Rizal and Recto Avenues. In those days, when the population of Metro-Manila was a lot less than today, and with the government policy of dispersing protest rallies, these were big numbers. 

The would-be participants, who were either CPP sympathizers, national-democratic activists, or CPP members, were under instructions to cause a monstrous traffic jam, and attract the attention of as many pedestrians as possible. The organizers knew that the propaganda value of the rally hinged greatly on its on-the-ground audience, as the Marcos media was expected to ignore the event.

The rally went on as scheduled, at around 5 pm. It was a Wednesday. The sidewalks of Rizal and Recto avenues teemed with people, and the Seventies rush-hour traffic was building up. Upon a signal from the marshals, which consisted of many red balloons being released by a designated group, the protestors suddenly occupied the intersection and that stretch of Rizal Avenue between Recto and Carriedo.

Per the estimate of the marshals,  the rally achieved the number of 7,000-10,000.  Suddenly, that part of Rizal Avenue became a sea of angry streamers, placards, and red flags being waved in giant figure-eights. The anti-Marcos slogans and chants, which resonated off the enclosing buildings, seemed to blend in cadence. The most shouted slogans were “Ibagsak ang batas militar!” (Down with martial law!), and Marcos Hitler Diktador Tuta! (Marcos Hitler Dictator Lapdog!).

The sidewalks of “Avenida Rizal” were now jammed with ogling pedestrians, curious as to how the rally would play out, and admiring the guts of these derring-dos. They occupied the front of the small restaurants, “soda fountains”, first-run theaters, department stores, bakeries, magazine stands, and school-supply stores that once gave this stretch the fashionable title of “Downtown”, at least to my father’s generation.

This captive audience curiously scanned the inflammatory leaflets that the protestors scattered. Fearing arrest, most of them immediately dropped the printed materials to the smudgy, tile-covered Avenida sidewalks. If the number of spectators were added to that of rally participants, then this CPP initiated affair would have easily assembled 12,000 people, making it the biggest anti-Marcos rally so far at that time.

The rally was cut short not 30 minutes after its start, with the arrival of several fire trucks belonging to the WPD. In no time, the fire trucks’ powerful pumps were whirring, with their 2.5 inch hoses pummeling the demonstrators with powerful bursts of red and green colored water. Many nuns got knocked down from the impact, their immaculate habits stained by the fluid. Many participants and bystanders, who got drenched as well, swore it stunk like sewage.  They later surmised that the color and odor of the water were either a part of the police’s psychological warfare, or a way of marking the rally participants for possible arrest.

The male laborers and students tried to resist the police onslaught. However, they too, soon dispersed, because of the sheer strength and volume of the water. The pressure of those fire-hoses, 75 to 100 psi, is strong enough to cause bone fracture. At any rate, there were truncheon wielding riot police and thugs wearing “Barangay Tanod” uniforms out to finish what was left over by the fire trucks.

By the time it was dark, around past six, the protesters had completely dispersed. The September 21, 1977 Rizal Avenue anti-martial rally was part of history. Most of the participants converged at pre-determined meeting places to recount their experience. Most of them were young: very few were past thirty. and the celebratory assessments lasted till the wee hours.

The Manila Anti-Referendum Rallies of October 1976

The Setting

In 1976, Philippine martial law was four years old, President Ferdinand E. Marcos was secure in his power, and  the economy was not much of a worry. It was growing,  and the balance of payments deficit had been solved through heavy borrowing. To project stability, the regime inaugurated the huge and ultra-modern Philippine International Convention Center (PICC) in September. Its initial hosting was the 1976 IMF-World Bank meeting.

The First Lady, Imelda R. Marcos, had been Governor of Metro-Manila for more than a year. She was her usual self erecting buildings and travelling abroad, with or without her husband. The PICC was  her pet project. She and President Marcos went to the Soviet Union in June, for their first official state visit. They established diplomatic relations with the USSR on that jaunt. 

Alone, Imelda had visited the US in January, and earned a brief and awkward appointment with First Lady Betty Ford, where the two exchanged gifts. To my recollection, it was in mid-year that Imelda was given the nickname “Iron Butterfly” by the foreign press, for her tenacity against her enemies.

In sports, the Philippines had sent 14 athletes to the Montreal Olympics in July, its smallest contingent since 1932. The Philippine delegation was small because of the absence of the basketball team, due to our first -time failure to qualify for the Olympic basketball competitions.  Meanwhile, the world gasped in awe at a diminutive 14-year-old child Romanian gymnast named Nadia Comaneci.

In the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA), the Crispa Redmanizers won all three conferences for their first “Grand Slam.” William “Bogs” Adornado was named Most Valuable Player (MVP).

In show business, the Second Metro-Manila Film Festival was held. Ganito Kami Noon… Paano Kayo Ngayon won Best Film, with its lead, Christopher de Leon, winning Best Actor. Hilda Koronel won the Best Actress award for her performance as an impoverished woman out for revenge in Insiang.

On August 16, 1976, there was a magnitude 8.0 earthquake between Mindanao and Sulu which killed 5,000 to 8,000 people. The tsunami it generated did most of the killing, especially in Sulu, and in the cities of Zamboanga and Pagadian. I started in my first job ever in July, as youth coordinator for the social action arm of the Catholic Bishops Conference (CBCP), an outfit called National Secretariat of Social Action (NASSA). NASSA got very busy in the relief operations for the victims of this earthquake and I helped pack relief goods.

I remember that when we had finished packing a shipment at the NASSA headquarters in Pasay City, Sr. Marilu Limgenco MM, a committed Maryknoll nun,  told me there was a PAF C130 at the domestic airport ready to bring the goods to Pagadian City, and that could I accompany her. I begged-off because I had a scheduled meeting that day.  To this day, I regret that decision.

In May, a typhoon inundated much of Central Luzon for a week, killing 60 people. The University of the Philippines Consultative Committee for Student Affairs (UP Concomsa) launched Operasyon Tulong (Operation Help) to bring relief goods to the affected areas. I was attending a meeting in a small hut in Hagonoy, Bulacan when the flood started to rise threateningly. We cut short the meeting and went to UP to attend Operasyon Tulong's convening meeting at UP Women's Home behind Vinzons Hall. Former Concomsa member Renato S. Velasco presided.     

The Rallies of October

The really important events in politics were denied the public by the Marcos media. Everything was focused on the referendum-plebiscite. Hardly reported, for example, was the nascent anti- martial law movement. There were three significant protest rallies in Manila in 1976, but the landmark events, noted for their sheer audacity,  received paltry coverage.   They all happened in October.

The first one occurred on October 3, 1976. It originated as an indoor rally in the auditorium of St. Paul College Manila, with Sen. Jovito Salonga as the main speaker. Numbering around 5,000 persons, the main body spilled out into Herran St. (present-day Pedro Gil) and managed to occupy a portion of Taft Avenue for about an hour after which it self-dispersed.  

The second and third ones, which were more defiant, took place on October 10, 1976 in front of De La Salle University on Taft Avenue and Plaza Miranda, respectively.  The Taft rally was held at about 3:00 in the afternoon while the Plaza Miranda rally happened at about 9 pm. The daring activists pulled no punches in denouncing martial law and Marcos’ human rights violations, shouting one illegal slogan after another.   They were both about 5,000 strong, The second rally was violently dispersed by the police with truncheons. However, it lasted more than an hour --- long enough for it to attract a large crowd of innocent onlookers, and a news article with a photo in the next day’s captive newspapers.

As they scampered from the police, the participants pasted conspicuous 3” by 12” self-adhesive stickers on walls, electric posts, and bus and jeepney interiors. The stickers bore the slogan “BMI Ngayon.” BMI Ngayon meant “Batas Militar Ibagsak Ngayon,” and was  a teaser for a planned huge rally to be held in 1977. Even the Leftists had some advertising sense. 

The 1976 Referendum-Plebiscite

The October 1976 rallies were protesting the approaching national “referendum-plebiscite” which was to be held October 16-17 1976.

In this exercise, some 42,000 barangays nationwide were to vote a) if martial law were to be continued, and b) to ratify proposed amendments to the 1973 Constitution. The said amendments would substitute the Interim Batasang Pambansa (IBP) for the regular Batasang Pambansa pursuant to Presidential Decrees Nos. 991, 1031, and 1032.

At that time, Marcos was concerned about the legal status of his four-year-old martial law regime. Marcos, after all, was a lawyer by training.  He wanted that his martial law was standing on firm legal grounds. He reasoned that a resounding favorable vote from the Filipino people, via a referendum, was the best legal validation for martial law. Hence the first question in the referendum plebiscite.

At the same time, Marcos needed a transitional body for the country’s eventual shift to the parliamentary system, and the IBP was to serve that purpose. In that parliamentary system, Marcos, as his scheme would have it, would become the Philippines’ first Prime Minister. Hence, the second question in the referendum-plebiscite.

The referendum-plebiscite was also meant by Marcos to convey the impression that he was consulting the Filipino people in matters affecting their welfare and future. Such an image was important in conveying a benevolent image and fostering a climate of “normalization” for what otherwise was a brutally repressive regime.

Left-Led Opposition to Marcos

Politically, the strongest opposition to Marcos was the Philippine Left, led by the “revitalized” Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). The Maoist CPP had weathered the arrest of politburo member Jose Luneta and other prominent Leftist figures in January, and had, by this time, regrouped nationwide, especially in the Metro-Manila area.

In Metro-Manila, the CPP had laid out a respectable political infrastructure, an ample mass base, and had established tactical alliances with middle-of-the-road politicians. The latter were either sympathetic to its cause or had no choice but to align with it.

In contrast to its student dominated mass base in the immediate pre-martial law years, the CPP in Metro-Manila now relied more on the support of thousands of workers under the Leftist “Bukluran” federation, urban poor under the Zone One Tondo Organizations (ZOTO), and religious activists under the Association of Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines (AMRSP) and the National Council of Churches in the Philippines (NCCP).

The Manila-Rizal committee of the CPP (MR) was now under the leadership of the rambunctious Filemon “Ka Popoy” Lagman. Lagman’s vision was the development of a mass uprising in Manila, which he called “Rebolusyonaryong Sigwa,” or revolutionary storm. The center of the maelstrom was intended by Lagman to be right in the political center of the city of Manila, meaning Plaza Miranda or in front of Malacañang Palace. Meanwhile, according to Lagman's plan, preparatory rallies, like the ones that happened in 1976,  were to be staged, the better to build momentum for the Sigwa. These pick-up rallies Lagman called "Rebolusyonaryong Unos," or revolutionary mini-storms. 

In his numerous fiery memorandums written in combative Tagalog, Lagman made it clear that the anti-referendum rallies were but dress rehearsals for the Sigwa. He pointed out that the Sigwa was to be unequivocably anti-martial law. Lagman did not state it categorically in his memos, but it was clear that if the opportunity presented itself, Sigwa was to aim at toppling the Marcos government.

In doing so, Lagman was being careful not to displease the CPP national leadership, which was oriented around bringing Marcos down after a lengthy or “protracted” war against the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) in the country’s rural areas. This approach was asserted in the recently issued CPP document entitled “Our Urgent Tasks.”

Traditional Opposition

The traditional oppositionists, elements of the Liberal and Nacionalista parties, 1971 Constitutional Convention, and the Civil Liberties Union of the Philippines (CLUP) had not yet reorganized from the disarray caused by the arrests of its members four years earlier. Three of its most prominent personalities were effectively blocked off from public view either by incarceration, as in the case of Ninoy Aquino, or if they were free, by media censorship, as in the case of senators Jose W. Diokno, and Jovito R. Salonga.  

Diokno, Aquino’s companion in Fort Bonifacio until he was released on September 11, 1974, had no organized forces under his command except for a few civil libertarians under the CLUP. He was assisted in this capacity by former constitutional convention delegate and economist Alejandro Lichauco.  In 1975, Diokno and Lichauco wrote a limited circulation pamphlet titled “A Message of Hope for Filipinos Who Care.”

Bold for its time, the pamphlet was an elaboration of the non-communist critique of martial law. It proclaimed, on its cover that it contained “an analysis of three years of martial law, an evaluation of the new society, a projection of the future, and a proposed alternative.” True to the repressive conditions then prevailing, the authorship of the pamphlet was vaguely put as “a representative group of citizens devoted to the cause of truth, justice and freedom.”

I participated in distributing this pamphlet in the University of the Philippines, sometime in 1975. I distinctly remember helping unload packs of the pamplets off senator Diokno’s dark green VW Kombi in front of Vinzons Hall in UP.   

Jovito R. Salonga, still hobbled by the effects of the Plaza Miranda bombing five years earlier, made the rounds of symposiums and seminars sponsored by the National Council of Churches in the Philippines (NCCP), where he assailed the martial law regime. Nonetheless brilliant and eloquent when he spoke, Salonga was often accompanied by anti-Marcos United Church of Christ (UCCP) senior minister Rev. Cirilo A. Rigos.

One such regular gathering was the “Wednesday Forum,” which Rev. Rigos started. It was held alternatively at the Ellinwood Church in Malate, Manila or at the NCCP headquarters along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA).  The forum gave free lunches to those who attended, as an incentive. Suffice it to say that Diokno, who was also a regular in these forums, and Salonga had little mass following. They were heavily reliant on these Left influenced institutions in finding an audience for their anti-martial law denunciations.

The CPP Agenda for the Anti-Referendum-Plebiscite Movement

The demonstrations against the October 16-17 1976 referendum-plebiscite were very important to the CPP and its allies. First, they were meant by the CPP to be venues for the ventilation of what the CPP saw as the people’s real sentiment regarding the referendum-plebiscite. This expression was important since a landslide victory for a “yes” vote was expected, given the rigged nature of the polls.

Second, the mass actions were a show of force for the CPP. They were meant to show the Marcos regime, the CPP allies, and the world that the CPP was the decisive anti-martial law force in the Philippines. The CPP was making it clear that it had the political will and sufficient warm bodies to clog the streets of Manila, albeit for a few hours, in defiance of the severe martial law ban on political demonstrations.

Third, the mass actions were aimed at frustrating Marcos’ attempts to legitimize martial law through a vote of confidence and Marcos’ plan to institute a parliamentary system with him as indefinite prime minister. To achieve this aim, the CPP had sent out a memo to all its sectoral and territorial units to go all out and call for a boycott of the exercise.

A boycott was adjudged the best option for the anti-martial law coalition because, with a Marcos victory all but assured, participation would have given credibility to the results.

The “Ad Hoc Committee” and the “Thursday Group”

The Preparatory Commission for the National Democratic Front (Prepcom NDF) of the CPP put up a seven-person “Ad Hoc Committee” to oversee preparations for the October demonstrations. It was composed of cadres temporarily pulled out from their assignments in the different social “sectors” comprising the CPP urban mass base. Each cadre was responsible for maximizing the attendance of their respective sectors in the rallies. The Ad Hoc Committee was also responsible for organizing symposiums, prayer vigils, masses, and prayer services that would “expose and oppose” the coming referendum-plebiscite and call for a boycott. After the referendum-plebiscite, this committee was commended by Prepcom NDF for a job well done.

The NDF also organized a so-called “Thursday Group” that was composed of civil libertarians, religious leaders, educators, and selected NDF organizers engaged in “united front” or “middle forces work.” It met over dinner and refreshments at St. Scholastica’s College every Thursday evening starting in the first week of September 1976.

The meetings, held over a long and food-laden wooden table, were very cooperative despite the ideological differences. The planning sessions usually lasted up to 11:00 pm. These meetings attested to the drawing power of the Philippine Left at that time, which impressed the non-communist sector because of their persistence, daring, and most of all, organized strength.  

The Thursday Group’s purpose was essentially to keep the civil libertarians well-informed about the anti-referendum movement, enlist their participation as speakers in the rallies, and reassure them on the current strength of the anti-martial law forces. In each meeting, they were given the latest copy of the AMRSP newsletter “Signs of the Times.”

The Thursday Group was composed of Senator Jose W. Diokno, representing the CLU, Senator Jovito Salonga and Rev. Cirilo A. Rigos representing the NCCP and Wednesday Forum, Sr. Mary John Mananzan OSB, the Dean of College of St. Scholastica’s, prominent lawyer and former constitutional convention delegate Teofisto Guingona, Gerry Bulatao representing the AMRSP and the Federation of Free Farmers (FFF), myself, representing NASSA, and the aforementioned NDF persons. 

In one meeting, former Supreme Court associate justice and civil law scholar JBL Reyes attended, representing the CLUP. Others who attended one or two meetings included Fr. Lope Castillo MSC and Fr. Toti Olaguer SJ, representing AMRSP.

In these meetings, I was awed by the presence of these famous people, particularly Diokno and Salonga. I was only 21 years old, and had worshiped them since I started reading newspapers. I remember most vividly one incident in the meeting on September 9, 1976, when Sen. Diokno dramatically announced to the group that Mao Zedong had just died.