The truth

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Exchange deal

Crises spawn opportunities, and Gloria Arroyo will grab whatever comes her way in her attempt to perpetuate her claim to power, at whatever cost, even at the expense of 57 innocent lives, including many journalists, who, as it turned out, only became pawns in a local turf war at which Gloria’s interest was long hinged.

The Ampatuan massacre in Maguindanao, the second poorest province in the country where guns, goons and gold worked wonders, not only for a cheating presidential candidate but also for her senators and local leaders as well, to the detriment of a country long lost in the darkest chapter of its history since Marcos’ martial rule, not only gave us our ugliest blot but a chance for Gloria to create an advantageous scenario for her to complete her own Marcosian cycle.

Gloria has placed Maguindanao and its environs under martial law, but not publicly declaring it like Marcos did, perhaps learning from the mistake of the vilified late dictator, whose old school, black and white television image became a direct illustration of evil even long after his death as his footage gets shown every year when the nation is reminded of his rule, or things similar to it, just as what we have now under Gloria, and against which we say, never again!

But it was martial law still she has just declared.

Ugly pasts have their way of resurrecting ghosts, and Gloria must have found out about this when what was only expected as an arms cache, found buried like valuable treasures in Ampatuan properties, also revealed remnants of Hello Garci’s past, in all its glorious glory, confirming the wide-spread electoral fraud that sent Gloria to Malacañang and denied some opposition sena-tors victory.

The Ampatuans, once a very powerful family in the region, however, have threatened to “talk,” if talking means confirming what Gloria and Garci have discussed in the country’s most interesting telephone conversation. But not even this threat would have sent chills down Gloria’s spine. It might have opened another opportunity to strike a deal with the Ampatuans, whom the nation wants nailed for the mass murder of people, which a foreign observer likened to what has transpired in Rwanda.

Under martial law, there is a likelihood the Ampatuans would escape the more serious offense of mass murder, as government is now focused on what it termed as a “looming rebellion,” one that has yet to transpire but for which the Ampatuans would likely be nailed, and given lighter penalties compared to what Datu Unsay Mayor Andal Ampatuan Jr. faces for 25 counts of murder.

It has also to be said a number of times, by various legal experts, opposition groups and those in the know about martial law, that the one recently declared in Mindanao would likely creep into several other politically important areas as the 2010 elections near, while government is being accused of building up a no-elections scenario, if it would help Gloria stay put and longer at the throne, there is now very little doubt she had stolen from the people.

The Ampatuans, their backs against the wall as Gloria and Gibo Teodoro make their rivals — the Mangudadatus — the next big warlords of Maguindanao, would accept whatever deals that would be offered their way, if only to end this family crisis that started when GMA had condoned their earlier acts of violence in return for political favors in their region, even giving them money and supply of arms, which of late, are being dug up in Maguindanao.

But the Maguindanao crises seem only the beginning.

The nation must be on guard against the many plans of Gloria Arroyo as her end-time nears.

Only our vigilance would ensure she steps out of Malacañang very soon, if not now.

Use your illusion

I remember half of the boys in my class standing up to declare their dream of becoming a president of the Republic of the Philippines someday. That was in 1976, during my first taste of public school as saling-pusa, being too young to be formally included in the grade one class.

Most of the girls wanted to become artistas, and I remember only some of them claimed dreaming of becoming nurses, doctors and lawyers.

My answer elicited laughter. I told the class I wanted to become an astronaut, the only one to do so in a class of Philippine presidents and artistas.

It was my childhood dream. My name was patented after Buzz Aldrin, who along with Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins, became the first men to set foot on the moon.

I remember the class bully howled: “Go to the States,” obviously referring to the US, where not even 10 percent of that public school class may have set foot in their adult lives, although I believe most of them are still entertaining thoughts of settling there someday — courtesy of their children, perhaps — who may or may not become astronauts as I once dreamed of becoming when I was really young.

Perhaps, my classmates thought I was not only dreaming but having an illusion, as if becoming president of a republic then very much under martial rule was not.

The late dictator Ferdinand Marcos was the star of every show then, with only a handful willing and daring to challenge him, and all them were detained, tortured and one was killed while returning home.

Maybe that explains why we do not run out of people, mostly being tagged as loonies, who file certificates of candidacy for the most coveted positions whenever the Commission on Elections starts to accept them.

Yesterday, I even got a ribbing from Ferdinand Agena, a college colleague who more than qualifies for the mayoralty of his town in Batangas, who asked if I managed to beat the Comelec deadline, the last days “reserved” for the “more serious” candidates.

He may have expected my simple reply: “I do not entertain such an illusion,” that my friend’s curt self no longer bothered to add to the jibe.

A television crew panned at the white board listing “applicants” for the presidency numbered a little over 50, if my aging eyes did not deceive me. It is expected to be trimmed down to just a few when the final reckoning comes, with those expected to survive the final “massacre” bearing names too familiar for many of us to ignore, while the rest will be sidelined in history alongside Eddie Gil and Elly “Spike Boy” Pamatong.

Only about 10 would make it in the final list, majority of them political scions successfully riding their elders’ greatness, or representatives of the moneyed class who would soon forget their promises to the masses and the poor.

There would be the so-called “alternative candidates” whose chances depend only on the little money they have to be able to send their message across and be rightfully heard, that is if voters are willing and able to discern what are being promised them and not be swayed by what are being given them.

In the end, however, it is still money which will speak loudly and clearly.

While politics is admittedly local, local government leaders would act correspondingly with the largess they receive, both from the national coffers and from other candidates with more money to spend.

It is a circuitous journey that would take us back again to where we’ve been since democracy was said to have been re-introduced in 1986, when all these started but had failed to take Philippine politics to maturity.

It remains an illusion to see a perfect president soon. But one that is good enough will never be enough.

Some say they will vote for the so-called “lesser evil,” which, if we follow their analogy, is still evil. Or maybe because we cannot find the perfect choice, even from this 2010 set whose campaign slogans and promises seem fake and illusory.

But here in our country, it seems easier to become a president than an astronaut.

We’ve had more than our share of presidents, really.

Finding the right one, however, is like finding a tiny gem in the murky Pasig river.