Wednesday, November 29, 1972

Headline at the Express: “Delegates Approve Final Charter Draft. Signing Tomorrow.”

The paper repeated its report yesterday that the delegates approved the charter draft without any dissenting vote. But this was a patent lie. How could such a deliberate misleading of the people be done by the Express?

The Bulletin Today headlined “New Charter Draft Passed.”

In both papers, on the front page were big items: “FM Warns of Insurgency by Rightist Elements,” the Express said. The Bulletin talked about “Peril from the Right.”

In the afternoon, I returned to Camp Aguinaldo. When I entered, I saw Gerry Barican, a UP student activist, being questioned by an officer. Gerry asked me if I was a visitor. I said “Yes.” Having said this, I felt it was awkward to stay longer. I decided to go and meet Colonel Miranda who had signed the summons for my interrogation.

I was shown into his office.

It was a fairly young man, somewhat tall, in casual polo shirt, with an honest, pleasant face, who stood up when I entered.

“I have come to introduce myself. I am Caesar Espiritu.”

“No, I should be the one to introduce myself to you because I know you.”

The officer told me that we belong to the same church. He said that at one time he had read that I was the speaker at the Cosmopolitan Church, but he was not there when I spoke.

This must have been Independence Day 1971, when there was a combined service of several churches in Manila and I was the speaker.

I told him that I had already been interviewed and allowed to leave. I added that I thought that the basis for the investigation was my letter that had been taken from Rev. Haruna.

He showed surprise that I knew that my letter had been taken.

“Well,” I said, “I know somehow about it.” I added that after a few days, when the letter did not come back, I presumed that the Army had mailed it.

He laughed.

“I thought it was not important and that, therefore, it should have now been received by the addressee,” I was being facetious.

“It got stuck here.” He laughed heartily.

“Well, since you are a professing Christian, I can more easily explain to you what I was telling your investigator yesterday,” I said.

“I am somewhat active in ecumenical Christian movements, not only nationally but internationally. In the last few years, the World Council of Churches and the Vatican, after Vatican II, have become more and more liberal and progressive. I am in continuous touch with them. My views have been inspired by these contacts.”

I told him that I was vice chairman of the World Student Christian Federation (WSCF), with headquarters in Geneva, from 1964 to 1968. Although I am no longer a member of the Student Christian Movement in the Philippines, when WSCF people come around from Geneva or Tokyo, they look for me. Thus, when a preparatory seminar of the Asian Leadership Development Center was held here by the Asia Committee of the Federation, they naturally asked me to help in the arrangements. At the end of a ten-day preparatory seminar in the Philippines, as the delegates proceeded to Tokyo for their four-week seminar proper, I sent out three letters through the participants. It was the third letter that was captured from a Japanese pastor.

“Why did you send out letters through friends?”

“Simply because mails are much faster from Tokyo or Hong Kong than from Manila,” I said. “So naturally, I do send many of my mails through friends who pass through Manila.”

There was another officer who was listening in as we talked. As I kept on looking at him, he moved forward to join us.

“I know of no subversion that I have committed except subversion of the status quo, with all its injustices and oppressions.” I was warming up, encouraged by their apparent lack of hostility.

The two officers encouraged me to talk and gave me the impression that they were in agreement with what I was saying. It was getting to be a monologue. But then I could hardly stop. I remembered how St. Paul nearly converted King Agrippa. I wanted to make use of the opportunity to tell them of the imperative necessity of instituting fundamental changes in social structures. I spoke of the need to protect human dignity and to foster greater equality, to struggle for justice both nationally and internationally.

Colonel Miranda interrupted and asked me if I had heard of Silliman University. He said the university is having difficulties in looking for a president.

Why did he bring up the subject of Silliman University?

“We thought you would be the president of Silliman,” he said. “That was what we had heard way back in early 1961.”

“I was quite young then. I think I was offered the presidency of Silliman because of the TOYM award I received in 1961 in the combined fields of economics and education.”

“You would have been the youngest university president in the country.”

“But Dr. Jovito Salonga, who had just been elected congressman at the time, had counselled me that it may not be wise for me to accept the presidency, because, in his own words, I would be away from the ebb and flow of events, which are centered in Manila.”

The problem, I thought, was that some people in the military were, in the 1960s, suspicious of new ideas. During those years, I was held in suspicion for quoting Arnold Toynbee and Bertrand Russell on the need for greater achievement in man’s relations with his fellowmen, as well as on the need for actively searching for peace. “To be able to look into the eyes of a human being and see in him the flattering image of yourself,” or something to that effect was what Norman Cousins had thought was the urgent purpose of education.

I had an article which was excerpted from my Ph.D. dissertation at Harvard which came out in the Chronicle magazine. I came out against the “Anti-Subversion Bill,” which was then in the process of being passed by Congress. I had written this immediately upon my arrival back in the Philippines after four years of studies in law, politics and political economy at Harvard, even mentioning that when I was in London, I had heard lousy Commies orating to their hearts’ content at Hyde Park, with overzealous anti-communists heckling them. My LL.M. essay was entitled “The Legislature and Control of Political Heterodoxies” and my Ph.D. discourse was on freedom and national security.

Harvard is famous for its defense of freedom, I told Colonel Miranda; it is a great institution, and it is concerned with greatness, and we alumni are proud of her achievements.

The other officer’s name is Major Arceo. He was quite sharp. He said that they distinguish between advocacy of violence and the expression of ideas. He said that my views are well-known. They have never doubted my integrity and my loyalty to democratic institutions.

“Your name was never in our list,” they said. “You have never advocated rebellion or subversion. Your interview now is mere routine.”

“Why then did you say in the summons that this is an investigation interview in a case of subversion in which I am involved?”

“It’s just a slip.” They were on the defensive now.

I told them I had asked for one hour to arrange my things, send cables, have my clothes packed, etc.

Colonel Miranda threw his neck back in laughter.

“Really? No, we had never meant to get you. We have never doubted you at all.”

But why am I here, I kept on thinking.

Then I added that I did not know of any political subversive in the Convention. I said that the nearest to a Marxist, if any, would be Boni Gillego. But then, I said, he would be the most harmless Marxist one could meet. In fact, I think he is a democrat with a social conscience; I don’t think he would hurt a fly, I said emphatically.

They nodded in a noncommittal way. An awkward silence ensued.

“Where is Boni Gillego?” They broke the silence.

“I have no idea.”

Colonel Miranda asked me if I had seen Sonny Alvarez. I had hardly answered “No,” when he turned to Major Arceo.

“I understand that Sonny Alvarez was seen at the Intercontinental two weeks ago.”

“By whom, by our people?” asked Arceo.

“No, by some other people.”

“Perhaps he did not know that he is wanted,” Arceo suggested.

“Why should he be wanted?” I asked. “Alvarez is a good man. He believes in the need for minimizing injustice in society just as I do. He is involved in our struggle to democratize our social and economic institutions,” I said in rapid succession.

Another awkward silence followed.

“Some of the officers in the military were my students,” I changed the subject.

“Who?”

“Gen. Guillermo Picache, Gen. Crispino de Castro and some colonels and majors and captains, too.”

“How was General de Castro?”

I told them that when General de Castro was still a colonel, he was my student in the Master of Laws course. One day, as I was conducting a pre-bar review class, Colonel de Castro burst in and excitedly said, “I need your help.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Confidential,” he had smiled.

I approached him.

“I have been asked by the military to answer Recto’s speech which was delivered yesterday. But after one year with you, I have become pro-Recto.”

We laughed.

I told the two officials about two Serranos, both captains, who were my students. One of them was the late Boni Serrano, of Korean War fame. I made them understand that as a professor I have been democratic. Democracy means essentially diversity of ideas, I said.

They agreed. Major Arceo kept on assuring me that the military understands these matters and does not arrest people simply because of their ideas.

“There is a difference between advocacy and expression of ideas,” he said. “We are familiar with your writings, you have never advocated the overthrow of the government.”

“Why am I here then? Was it because I have taken views contrary to those of President Marcos? Was it because I stand foursquare against the violations of human rights by the military?” I asked in succession.

Again they were on the defensive.

“Every promising young man in the country has a file in the NICA. In fact, even President Marcos has a file. The NICA follows up all the activities of all promising people in the Philippines,” Arceo answered reassuringly.

“But insofar as you are concerned you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he added.

“We have never suspected you. As far as we know, you have never been in the list,” Col. Miranda confirmed.

We parted in friendly terms. They were courteous and respectful. And intelligent, I thought, not the witch-hunting type.

But by what luck, what chain of circumstances kept me from being denied my freedom? Did I ward off being detained—again by the skin of my teeth?

Surely, I was wanted. Did I outtalk them? Did God touch their hearts? This was my second lease on liberty!

I felt both triumphant and unnerved. It was a sobering influence.

Or am I under the illusion that I had won the battle? Was not the military successful in instilling fear into my heart and overdone caution into my actuations? Damn it, I just want the military off my back!

Several delegates rushed towards me when I entered the session hall. The news had spread.

What transpired in the interrogation? Was I going to be detained? Senator Liwag, Joe Feria, Naning Kalaw, Bobbit Sanchez—these were among the friends who met me with concern for my safety as well as for theirs.

Johnny Remulla—even him—felt sorry for me. He told me that this noon, he was at the office of Solicitor-General Titong Mendoza and Titong had already heard from my classmate Joker Arroyo that I was taken into custody yesterday. “In fact, they were speculating,” Johnny added, “that your best friend and classmate Titong would be your prosecutor and Joker your lawyer.”

I was taken completely by surprise. How could this news have travelled so fast?

“Titong confirms that you have absolutely no communist leanings,” Johnny Remulla said. “But Titong said, of course, Caezar is a human rights activist and civil libertarian and has been espousing the need for greater justice in human relationships and of active solidarity with the poor. He is a practising Christian and this is the influence of his faith.”

I met Tony Tupaz at the aisle and asked him how come even Titong already knew about it. He did not answer the question directly; instead, he informed me that he even told Speaker Cornelio Villareal yesterday that I had been arrested.

These days I don’t know whether to believe or not anything Brod Tony Tupaz says; nevertheless, I still consider him a friend.

The Speaker was concerned, according to Tupaz; he immediately phoned President Marcos about it.

It is more likely that Nimia Arroyo of the Manila Times, who was covering our session, was the one who had spread the word around. Nimia is a loyal friend, a former staff member of mine when I was editor-in-chief of the Philippine Collegian at UP. She must have phoned her brother, Joker, a human rights lawyer and my classmate. Nimia saw me being taken by the military; we had looked into each other’s eyes as I was being led away by my military escort.

I sat down with Sedfrey. He told me that he was with Sen. Jovito Salonga yesterday and that he had told him that I was arrested. He said that Jovy Salonga was very much concerned about me.

But then I had calmed down. I kidded some of the guys that I had just taken my oral examination and that I think I passed the exam with the grade of “meritissimus.”

The delegates were milling around until 6:00 p.m. Apparently I did not miss anything by arriving late from Camp Aguinaldo. Nothing was happening. Everyone was killing time, waiting for the printed copies of the Constitution to arrive. Finally, at 6:00 p.m. we dispersed, without having done anything.

We returned at 8:00 p.m. There were no printed copies available either but Munding Cea then made a motion to go through with our nominal voting.

But of course, this is anticlimactic. Everything is just a formality. The real voting—on second reading—took place two days ago. The perversion of the Constitution has already been done.

Fourteen people voted “No.” The most sensational vote was that of Nene Pimentel who was standing before the microphone waiting for his name to be called. When his turn came to vote, he started to deliver a speech….

“Because of the adulterous…” his voice trailed off as presiding officer Abe Sarmiento banged the gavel. “Your vote,” Abe ruled. “What is your vote?”

Nene Pimentel continued to explain his vote but Brod Abe ruled that he should make known his vote first. Pimentel shouted, “I refuse to vote on this travesty of a Constitution…”

I heard later on that this was shown on TV.

Everyone is full of admiration for Nene’s guts, So am I. Now we are all the more afraid for him.

Some Independent-Progressive delegates who had wanted to vote “No” decided to vote “Yes” when they saw me being returned to the session hall by a soldier. They were clearly intimidated.

“Raul Manglapus has exiled himself abroad. Tito Guingona is in the stockade. And you came in escorted by a soldier. How do we vote now?”

“I cannot really give you much advice. Vote according to your conscience. I would vote ‘No’ if there is no danger of so doing, ‘Yes’ if there is,” I counselled lamely.

My Independent-Progressive group was downcast. Defeat was in everyone’s eyes.

Johnny Liwag was among the first to capitulate—he who had made so many speeches in our group meetings in the last few days on how “the blood of our children would be upon us.”

“Yes!” his voice had resounded in the session hall.

The rest followed suit.

Jess Matas’ voice faltered as he meekly voted “Yes, with mental reservations.” Then he threw himself on his chair to commune with his soul.

Everything went on so fast. It was so evident that the majority was really “steamrolling” the approval of the Constitution, even on third reading, which was really no longer decisive.

Still, many who have voted “Yes” on roll call today vowed that they would not show up for the signing of the Constitution tomorrow.

“We’ll get lost,” I proposed.

“Yeah, let’s get lost,” whispered more than a dozen sad voices.


Saturday, September 9, 1972

Tony Ceniza, a member of my Class ’52 at the UP College of Law, was in a big mood for talking. He belonged to the President Garcia faction which became the nucleus of the Marcos Group in the Convention after the death of Garcia.

Tony told me why Willy Cainglet, who was a staunch member of the Independent-Progressive group in the early days, finally was lost to us. During the campaign for the presidency, Tony had asked Willy to help him in electing President Garcia. However, Willy said he was already then committed to the bloc of Raul Manglapus.

I do remember that Willy was one of those who had looked up to me after our meeting in Zamboanga. He was wavering between staying with Raul or shifting his support to me. If I had met him earlier, he intimated, he would surely have tried to support me instead of Manglapus.

“Never mind,” I had said to him then, “Raul is a man of integrity whom I respect highly and, together with Tito Guingona, we are in coalition.” However, according to Tony, Willy voted the way he did — against the ban-dynasty resolution—because he had felt isolated.

For about a year now, Willy has been feeling that he has been abandoned by the Independent-Progressive bloc. During the election for floor leaders in July of last year, apparently, Willy Cainglet had felt that he was junked by Raul Manglapus’ faction for Mangontawar Guro (who has, like several other Muslim delegates, become a Marcos supporter in the meantime), despite the fact that he, Willy, was senior to Guro in the Manglapus group.

There is a general feeling in the Convention that all the Muslim delegates are pro-Marcos. But there may be exceptions. Michael Mastura (and Sandy Sambolawan) had, until lately, been acting almost like an independent, except that in the ban-dynasty resolution, he had also voted “No.” He is a good man, otherwise, a bright, conscientious young man in many ways. He is a fair hope of our Muslim brethren.

Former Senator Domacao (Domi) Alonto, likewise, is probably not a Marcos supporter and there may be a few other Muslims who are not.

Jun Badoy joined me for some small talk. He said he and Tony Ceniza knew that Tony Tupaz had manipulated my defeat in our pre-Convention primary with Tito Guingona. (The primary was to decide who between Tito and me should be nominated for the presidency of the Convention to run against Presidents Garcia and Macapagal.)

He continued, “Tupaz pretended to be a member of the Independent-Progressive bloc and brought in ten Garcia delegates to vote for Tito and Tito’s lead over you was only six votes. The reason? President Garcia felt you would be a more formidable prospective opponent for the Convention presidency than Tito because you have an ideology.”

I told him I did not think of deserting the Independent-Progressive bloc in spite of my defeat in the primary because I am there not because of any political or personal consideration. I am there for a cause. And I consider Tito a good man, a good friend and a loyal ally.

Jun Badoy expressed some disappointment over the fact that Raul Manglapus, the leader of the largest faction in our group, had supported Bert Misa over him in a committee chairmanship fight. Nevertheless he, like me, has remained a member of the Independent-Progressives because of conviction.

Tony Ceniza came to my desk again and talked to me about the devastating column of Apolonio Batalla in today’s Bulletin in which Batalla has enumerated some 157 delegates as “being moved as one by the invisible hand of Malacañang.” According to Tony, this listing has caused for us the loss of about seven votes on the ban resolution; it made some people waver.

Pete Rodriguez, for example, who had all along been for the ban, did waver quite a bit when the column came out. He could not be called a pro-Marcos man, but then he had thought he might as well vote “No” because, anyway, he was being wrongly dubbed a Marcos supporter. He only changed his vote upon hearing President Macapagal’s speech urging us to vote “Yes.” The appeal of Macapagal for the delegates to reckon with the judgment of history swayed Pete. As Tony Ceniza laughingly said, “Pete Rodriguez decided at the last moment to shift back to his original position and to vote for history.”

Then he said there were two of them who had filed amendments to the ban-dynasty resolution. Actually, according to Ceniza, he was prepared to vote “Yes” on the resolution. He had wanted only one amendment—to change the word “occupy.” He said that the resolution, as worded, could lead to the interpretation that upon the effectivity of the Constitution, Marcos would automatically forfeit his seat.

Jun Badoy and I clarified that that was not the intention, but Tony insisted, “Why risk this interpretation?”

In any case, he said, Samuel (Sammy) Occeña—another one of our bright and sincere members of the Independent-Progressives but who is also somewhat obsessed with raising points of order—prematurely moved for the previous question because he had felt that the chances of winning were good, after that magnificent Macapagal speech. This prevented Tony from presenting his amendment. And so, he voted “No.”

Tony Ceniza surmised that it was Pepe Calderon who had furnished the “list” of the supposed blind supporters of Malacañang to Bulletin columnist Batalla. The list was recklessly long and obviously inaccurate. But could my name be there if that list came from Pepe? I can’t believe it was he who gave the “list.”

“As a matter of fact,” Tony continued nonetheless, “Linda Ampatuan had singled out Pepe Calderon in her speech. And this was brought out clearly in the first series of the Batalla columns.”


September 3, 1972

Scan0100

Note: preceding pages are missing.

 

Sept 3rd (Con’t)

Malacañan Palace

Manila

 

Directed that the MIA men (customs, Gen. Man. Luis Tabuena and CAA Adm. Singson) stop the practice of allowing non-passengers enter the area of the departing or arriving passengers. This because of a stowaway in one of the foreign planes and the complaint of the international pilos that we are not taking precaution against possible hijacking.

The propagandists of the communists –among them Sen. Ramon Mitra keep insisting that the terrorism and the bombings by the leftists and subversives are perpetrated by the AFP to condition the people to martial law.

I told Gen. Menzi today that the Bulletin News Editor, Antonio Zumel, is one of the three propagandists of the Communists. I told him that the two others are with Chronicle and Taliba (without mentioning Granada and Fadol of those newspapers). He admitted that Zumel was a Red. I must resign my aide, LtCol. Zumel his brother.

 


February 10, 1970, Tuesday

10Feb1970

PAGE 76

Office of the President

of the Philippines

Malacañang

February 10, 1970

Tuesday

12:15 AM

Have just met with the KM, NATU, MASAKA, from 6:00 PM to 11:15 PM. They claim they will not engage in a hate-Marcos campaign but will limit their demonstration to the campuses and prevent violence.

Now the NUSP also want to meet with me. And so do the Upsilonians.

We are succeeding in dividing the student leaders into the radicals and the moderates.

Have had to grant some of their demands – things that I wanted to do anyway.

But four enlisted men were killed at Mapalacsiao, Tarlac, by men believed to be Maos at 1:00 AM today.

The demands of the radicals are socialistic if not communist – not merely nationalistic. We will have to play along with them, take away their steam while we go after the Maos and the HMBs.

Imelda met with the two Cardinals, Archbishops Gonzaga and Alberto on the problem of the Jesuits and the ultra-liberal priests. They intend to put yup a magazine and a newspaper.

Have asked Gen. Menzi to resign his position as Senior Aide so he can devote his full time to the Bulletin, Liwayway, his business interests and the preparation of a house in Australia and San Francisco if necessary.


July 4, 1942

No parades, no celebrations—in public.

Cozy little parties, drinks, dancing, singing—in private.

The Filipinos have learned to celebrate on July 4th.

More trouble from Mr. Inada. Mr. Felix Gonzalez, formerly Bulletin reporter, presented his resignation. Said he couldn’t stand Inada’s arrogance. Inada shouted at Gonzalez for not knowing mess hall regulations. Gonzalez answered him in an equally strong way. Inada remained silent.

Some people were expecting American planes to drop one-ton bouquets.

Told the boys in the office: If any Japanese in this office hits you, hit them back. If they bring you to Fort Santiago, I’ll go with you…

Conching’s birthday. The family had lauriat.


December 8, 1941

After breakfast, I read the Daily Bulletin, the only newspaper published on Mondays. The Bulletin carried no news of special interest. At seven in the morning, Señor Alberto Guevara called me up. He had just heard over the radio that Hawaii’s Pearl Harbor had been attacked by Japanese planes. That was the first news of the war.

One of the Fathers came up with an “extra” of the Daily Bulletin. But the “extra” added very little to the scanty information we had. It was reported that Japan had declared war on the United States moments before Ambassador Kurusu delivered to Secretary Hull the answer to the demands of Roosevelt. Hull replied that those were the greatest bunch of lies the world had ever heard.

We are beginning to realize that we are engulfed in the whirlpool of war. There is excitement, there are telephone calls, sirens, plans, scamperings, panic-buying of food, clothes and other provisions. Speculations and projections run big. Everybody is playing prophet. Would they attack? No, they would not dare. If they do, it would be by air from Formosa, Hainan, in aircraft carriers. Landing places would be Lingayen and Batangas, but they are fortified. By sea, it is impossible to pass through Corregidor. Evacuate the capital: to Laguna, Rizal, Bulacan, Bicolandia, Visayas. Manila will be mercilessly destroyed. Wait for developments.

Thus it was on the day of the Immaculate Conception.

By midmorning, the Director of Private Schools announced that all classes are suspended until further notice.

But when will this further notice come?

I attended the Provincial Council to discuss emergency and urgent matter. The Father Provincial had just arrived by car all the way from Aparri, as the boat he was supposed to take was late. It was providential though. The boat was later bombed and sunk by Japanese planes.

The other Fathers who felt more secure in the provinces or with friendly families have been allowed to receive money from and live with them. It was feared that the government would order the evacuation of some districts, Intramuros among them. The suburbs are considered safer.

As Chairman of the National Basketball Committee, I presided over the meeting scheduled for today. The members of the Committee unanimously decided to suspend the national championship games which were to start the day after tomorrow. The teams from Cebu and Iloilo arrived yesterday; they were sent back home. There could be bombings during the games and we wanted to avoid a possible catastrophe.

 

Came night time. There was complete black-out. We slept in our rooms on the fourth floor. Two Fathers volunteered to keep watch for the night and to give warning in case of an air raid. It was necessary though, as the siren was situated at the Post Office, about 200 meters away.

We were awakened before midnight by its shrill, doleful sound as if it were announcing gloom which the nocturnal planes would sow. The vestibule and the receiving room were converted into shelters. One hour in the shelters and back to bed.

At three o’clock there was another signal. We scampered down in total darkness, feeling the wall with our hands, taking care that we and the boarders would not slip.

The planes could not be seen. We only saw a small red star like a wandering ruby among the others which were gilded and immobile in the sky.

Then an airborne fleet, like buzzing bumble bees made known its presence. The searchlights ripped the thick mantle of darkness that enveloped us. A frantic volley of shots deafened us. The CEA fired their pistols, the cadets and recruits fired their guns. Artillery and antiaircraft guns thundered, dominating this infernal macabre orchestra with their barking.

The planes continued their majestic flight at a comfortable altitude that permitted them to enjoy the sight of the dogs which below were barking at them with fury.

There were sounds of bomb explosions. We calculated where they fell. Each one of us suddenly became an expert in localizing these deep rumblings. We were hearing them for the first time in our lives, but we indicated the places being bombed with the accuracy of veteran warriors.

And so ended the first day of war, with a greater noise and din than New Year’s eve. Beautiful was the perspective the god Mars showed us!


September 21, 1936

Return to Manila of Quintin Paredes, Resident Commissioner to the United States, who is reported as wishing to resign. He states the difficulties he has encountered in America, and still hopes for the payment of the Philippine Government of the excise tax and the gold devaluation fund. He says there is very little understanding in the United States as to the Philippine situation. False reports, he states, are sent by “some journalists” in Manila and printed by the United States press without verification. (Aimed at the Bulletin assassins). No reference to this statement was printed on September 22, in the Bulletin nor in the Tribune. This corroborates what General MacArthur told Quezon in our recent meeting. Paredes says: “Information now current in the United States is that the Commonwealth Government is very extravagant in its expenses, and that our system of education has been wrecked. Some correspondents here in the Islands have sent this misinformation to the United States with the apparent purpose of discrediting the new government.” (This is the same campaign which was daily directed for years from here against my administration. The Filipinos of twenty years ago paid no attention to it when aimed at me;–indeed seemed to believe it, if not to enjoy it!)

The exodus of government officials to enter business continues–some of their best men are leaving office.

Flare-up in Baguio recently where Quezon went to attend the commencement exercises of the Officers Training Corps. The members of the Assembly present at this commencement left the reception because their Speaker was not “recognized.” (A great deal of antagonism against the new Army and its officers exists in the Legislature.) It is hard work for Quezon to keep the boat from rocking. He is staking all on the new army.


September 15, 1936

Quezon asks the Assembly to permit the recall of the “Chinese book-keeping” bill, as he will not veto it if passed, but asks that the Chinese be given a term (2-3 years?) to prepare!! This is a bill already mentioned in the preceding pages of this diary, which requires Chinese in the Philippines to keep their accounts for tax inspection in English, Spanish or a native dialect. The Herald, Tribune and Bulletin commend his action editorially. As this is the law for which he and I fought so hard nearly twenty years ago, and the unconstitutionality of which as declared by the United States Supreme Court caused Quezon to denounce savagely to me only three months ago the legal decisions of both Chief Justice Taft and Justice Johnson,–that is, to say the least, a most extraordinary reversal on Quezon’s part. The power to make this law is now said to be existent under the new Commonwealth constitution. It is very sad for me to see him jettison one of the principles which he held most ardently. He now gives somewhat the appearance of a man riding a bucking broncho–not of a leader.


August 24, 1936

Quezon’s banquet for General MacArthur of 144 guests at one table in the central hall in Malacañan. Army, Navy, Consular Corps, Committees of Assembly, Church pundits, etc., etc. Probably the most brilliant and dramatic dinner party ever given in the Palace. The purpose of the evening’s ceremony was to confer an appointment as Field Marshal on MacArthur with the presentation of a gold baton. Quezon’s address opened with an account of his first visit to Malacañan in 1900 as a prisoner of war, he having been sent through the lines by General Mascardo of the Filipino insurrectionary forces from Zambales to ascertain whether General Aguinaldo was really a prisoner of war. The story was well and dramatically told–thus furnishing an excellent introduction to the son:–MacArthur’s address was carefully prepared and was eloquently delivered. He was covered with orders and decorations. His speech was all about preparedness. When he had finished, the Japanese Consul General who sat next to me whispered: “it is the same speech the Japanese Generals make before the Diet when they want more money for the Army!” He (Uchiyama) talked that evening more openly and frankly about Japan that one expects from one of their officials. Told me of recent nationalization of all water power in Japan; also of the new rule requiring old men to vacate the public service and in business as well;–in the latter they must now retire at the age of 55 unless they are Directors, when they can go on to 60. Youth insists on taking control. Pensioners get one third of their former salary.

Uchiyama had originally set up the first Japanese Legation in Havana;–he commented that Cuba under the Platt Amendment was much like the Philippine Commonwealth now.

Later, Quezon invited MacArthur and his staff, Cavender, Jim Ross and myself to stay on in his office, and we talked until one o’clock. MacArthur and I were urging Quezon to influence the Bulletin to stop its campaign in the United States in derogation of the Philippines. MacArthur says that news from the Philippines, manufactured by the Bulletin and by Walter Robb is published as facts by the Associated Press and the United Press etc., without verification–the only place in the world where this is possible! MacArthur also discussed the influence of Stanley Hornbeck in the State Department, who for fifteen years has directed “Far Eastern Affairs,” and is strong for America’s withdrawal from the Pacific.