Tuesday, November 28, 1972

The Daily Express said today, in an article written by Primitivo Mijares, that the draft Constitution was approved last night without any dissenting vote.

But this was a blatant lie. I had voted “No”; so did quite a number of others.

It is not without reason that my friend Tibo Mijares has jokingly called himself “the Goebbels of Marcos.” There is an element of truth in this.

I was almost lost in my ruminations on the sad fate of the Con-Con when I entered the session hall. As I did so, someone handed me an envelope.

I looked at the man. His face was somewhat familiar. He started getting out the letter inside the envelope and showing it to me. I noticed that it was from the Armed Forces. With some trepidation I began to read:

HEADQUARTERS
5th Military Intelligence Group, ISAFP
Camp General Emilio Aguinaldo
Quezon City

M56P

24 November 1972

Subject :        Summon for Investigation

To :                 Dr. Augusto Caesar ESPIRITU
6th Floor, Ramon Magsaysay Center
1630 Roxas Blvd., Malate, Manila

Pursuant to Proclamation No. 1081 of the President of the Philippines in his capacity as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Philippines dated September 21, 1972, and pertinent implementing General Orders and Letters of Instruction, you are hereby invited to appear before the Office of the Group Commander, 5th Military Intelligence Group, ISAFP at Camp General Emilio Aguinaldo, Quezon City on 24 November 1972 for investigation/interview in a case of subversion of which you are involved.

Your immediate compliance is hereby enjoined.

(Sgd.) MARIANO G. MIRANDA
Lt. Colonel PA
Group Commander

The dreaded moment has come at last! I was being “picked up”—as I had half expected for some time now!

I immediately thought of getting in touch with Johnny Ponce Enrile through Edong Angara. Edong was not yet in, neither was Sig Siguion-Reyna, Enrile’s brother-in-law. I asked Cecing Calderon for Johnny’s telephone number. He said Pepe Calderon has the number of Johnny at his house. He gave me Pepe Calderon’s number. I tried calling up Pepe but his phone did not ring at all. I spent more than 15 minutes trying to get Pepe. Then Cecing started to assist me.

Tony Tupaz passed by. I asked him for the telephone number of Edong Angara. He tried to remember the number.

“Why?” he asked.

I told him I had received an “invitation” from the Armed Forces.

“This is probably just an interview,” he dismissed it forthwith.

I showed Tony the paper. “Well, it is only an interview, it is not a warrant of arrest,” he started. But then he kept on reading the summons… “for investigation/interview in a case of subversion.” He got alarmed.

Bakit ‘subversion of which you are involved?’ Masagwa ito,” he got worried. “Masagwa ito” he repeated.

I asked for the number of Johnny Enrile but he didn’t know. He said I should talk to Edong Angara; he is the one who can help.

“In the possibility that I am taken in, will you do something on the Malacañang front?” I asked.

“Of course, I will go upstairs, Brod.” Tony tried to reassure me.

I called Romy Capulong aside and took him to President Macapagal’s room. I asked him if he knew the phone number of Johnny Enrile and he said that he has no direct line to Johnny. As I was talking to Romy, Cecing Calderon, who had been trying to do something, came in and said, “Nandiyan na si Edong.”

I called Edong aside and led him to the office of Macapagal. I showed him the letter. The first thing that he noticed was that it was dated the 24th of November. Today is the 28th. He asked me if I had made any speeches lately. I answered in the negative.

I started thinking that this might have something to do with my letter that was taken by the military from Haruna. Yes, that international seminar of the Asian Leadership Development Center (ALDEC)!

Edong was locked in thought. Then he started tracking down Johnny. In five minutes, Johnny was on the line.

“I am here at the Constitutional Convention. Nandito si Caesar Espiritu. Meron siyang summons for investigation dated November 24 but he received it only now.”

“Do you want to speak to him directly?” Edong turned to me, handing me the receiver.

Sige na, ikaw na.” I was in no position to discuss this matter coherently.

They had a short conversation.

“Johnny said that this is just an interview; there is no need to worry,” he consoled me.

Upon my reentry to the session hall, I told Rebeck about it. He advised me to report to the military officer as soon as possible. He warned me that even if it is only an interview, this may take two days. He said many of those who have been interrogated stayed for two days.

I quickly collected the clothes and papers to bring with me to the stockade. I tried to call up the house but there was no answer. Just send a note, Rebeck counselled.

Rebeck coached me on how the questions were directed to those he knew had been previously interviewed and who were subsequently released. The general sense is that the military wants to elicit assurance of voting for the draft Constitution and willingness to help in the building of the “New Society.” He advised that I should take the posture of willingness to help in the approval of the Constitution.

As if in a trance, I went with the soldider who gave me the letter, he with the familiar face.

But he was friendly. He tried to put me at ease. He started telling me in confidence that one of the interrogating officers was a former student of mine.

He introduced himself: Sergeant Rosales. He has been one of our security guards at the Convention for 16 months.

Small wonder, I knew his face. And he showed great respect towards me.

When I arrived, I was introduced to an officer who, later on, told me that he is First Lt. Conrado Gerzon.

He started by saying that the report about me said there was a letter written in blue ink. He then read the name of the addressee and the salutation. I was quite amused. He said the letter was taken from Mr. Haruna.

“Yes,” I said, “I knew Mr. Haruna. He is a Japanese pastor working at the YMCA in Japan.”

I told him that I have many international contacts who come in and out of Manila and that I have the habit of sending letters through them.

He asked me why such code names as Sascha and Karina were used in the letter. Also, why did I write that “some of the brightest and most patriotic citizens were being arrested and that I, too, might be arrested?” The military was puzzled and so he was asked to “confront” me with these.

“In the first place, you are admitting that this letter was yours,” he continued his interrogation.

“Yes.”

“Did you know that it had fallen into the hands of the military?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you not take it from the military?”

“It was not important, it was routine.”

“What was Sascha?”

I laughed. The lieutenant started murdering the German names and words written in my letter.

“Karina?”

“This is Karen in Danish, Catherine or Katharine in English, Katrina in Russian, Katherina in Central Europe. These were the editors of my two books we were putting out, Economic Growth in World Perspective and The Responsible Society.”

My interrogator was somewhat awed by all of these.

“While I am a Filipino and I consider the Philippines my primary country,” I said, “I also think of the U.S., West Germany and Switzerland as some kind of second countries. My friends in these countries are by the dozens. It is normal for me to have good contacts in these countries just as I have good friends in our own country.”

“I thought so,” he said albeit a faint note of suspicion in his voice betrayed his inner thoughts.

“Why did you write that about 13 people have been taken by the military and that one of your brilliant friends was taken that day? In fact, according to your letter, you were advising him, in case he was going to be taken in, not to run away, but to give up peacefully because his chances of survival are better inside the stockade than if he were to be in hiding.”

And why was I writing as if I, too, were expecting to be arrested?

“You put yourself in my shoes. Every day two or three of your close friends are arrested. Wouldn’t you feel apprehensive too? In fact, the whole Convention has been shaken by the arrest of these delegates. Frankly, everyone is somewhat afraid of being taken in.”

“You continued in the letter that international communications have been cut off but that you would send a message, ‘FREE’ or ‘IMPRISON.’ Why?”

“Well, I have been critical of both Marcos and of martial law,” I said. “I’m a Democrat. I believe in individual freedom and human rights. Wouldn’t you feel the same apprehension if you were in my shoes?”

“Yes, I would be,” he said with a show of sympathy. “For a while, I was confused about the air of apprehension in the Convention,” he added.

“Look at the date,” I pursued my psychological offensive. “The letter was written two days after martial law but it was not until one week later that this fell into the hands of the military. This means, I just gave the letter to the Japanese as a matter of routine knowing he was leaving for Tokyo a week or two later.”

Looking somewhat convinced, he grinned and asked me rather sheepishly whether I have taught at the Far Eastern University. I answered in the affirmative. “For several years.”

“I think I was your student.” His whole demeanor had changed.

I was not sure what I should say.

“I was thinking you were familiar but it seemed you have grown older since. Yes, you must have been my student for one year.”

“I think for two years,” he corrected me in his monotone.

I tried hard to put a glint of recognition into my eyes. “Ah, yes, I remember you, but of course, you are much older now.” My mind was in a whirl. I searched for a clue.

“I had two years of law school under you but I did not finish my studies.” He was quite subdued now.

“I am going to say in my report that it was a routine letter that you were writing to your editors in Europe,” he shifted back to the subject of interrogation.

We talked about my friends who have been taken in. I mentioned the names of Lichauco and Guingona. His face lit up when I mentioned Lichauco.

“Is he the one you mentioned as brilliant?”

“Yes,” I said, “he is the one. He was sitting beside me the day he was taken. And he is not a subversive, he is not a Marxist. He is just a nationalist—an anti-imperialist.”

“I am also a nationalist,” I confessed, “and a democrat. That is the reason I’m frequently held under suspicion.”

“Our society is so much in the right,” I lectured. “It is so much easier in our society to be a conformist than to retain one’s integrity. But there is so much injustice in society. We need to alter structures of power, institutions and of economic benefits. We need to be on the side of the poor and the weak.”

“The only difference is that Lichauco is more outspokenly anti-imperialist than me,” I continued. “But I, too, believe in national integrity. I do not like our foreign policy which Recto has called a foreign policy of mendicancy. I believe in justice and equality for all nations, and for all people in our country.”

I told my interrogator about my travels. “I’m invited to something like five seminars, workshops and conferences every year in Europe. In a way, I might be called a nationalist internationalist.”

“Oh, yes, Sir, I remember you were travelling a lot.”

“Yes, I have been attending seminars on international development as well as on human rights.”

“And I believe, Sir, that you are a Recto follower,” my interrogator is now deferential.

I responded by saying that Lichauco was influenced by Recto even more, and so have many of other young people.

He said casually that Lichauco would be interrogated tomorrow.

I cautioned him that they should remember that I consider Lichauco a patriot although I do not agree with all of his views.

Earlier, before my interrogation, Roquito Ablan, an assemblyman who reportedly had access to Marcos’ bedroom, came along with a visitor’s tag. I was surprised.

“Hello, Brod!” he boomed.

“Hi, Brod,” I answered. “Are you the kitchen-in-charge here? Or the detention mayor?”

I thought of Sed Ordoñez’ earlier story about Ninoy Aquino having been ousted as kitchen-in-charge at Fort Bonifacio. But apparently I made a mistake. Roquito is not under detention.

“I’ll see you in the interim Assembly, Brod.”

“I’m not sure about that, Brod.” I chuckled.

He briefly spoke to me in Ilocano and I answered him in Ilocano. He then warmly waved good-bye and breezed away.

Ammoyo gayam ti Ilocano (so you know Ilocano),” Gerzon said approvingly.

            Bassit (a little),” I replied, then casually proceeded to speak again in English and it was then he said he is from Nueva Ecija.

“Oh, you are my provincemate. Rebeck is your delegate.”

“Yes,” he responded, “Rebeck is my delegate; I come from Cuyapo.”

Our conversation lasted for 45 minutes. In the end, he said that was all. He “invited” me to return tomorrow so he could introduce me to his commanding officer.

“Of course. Would 10:00 or 11:00 o’clock be okay?”

“Oh, anytime at your convenience.” He was casual and deferential.

We were getting to be teacher and student again.

The session was about to adjourn when I returned. There were fireworks because Ambassador Quintero was going to speak.

Tony Sison, chairman, explained the action taken by the Committee on Privileges with respect to the investigation of the famous Quintero expose of Marcos payola in May 1972. He reported that his Committee had found “no scintilla of evidence to prove the charges of Delegate Quintero.” (Quintero had charged that he kept on being sent money in envelopes by Marcos to vote along certain lines.) Sison then moved that all the persons mentioned in the expose, including the first lady, Imelda Marcos, be exonerated of the charges against them and that the case be deemed terminated.

The motion was approved overwhelmingly. This is, indeed, the world of the absurd!

Quintero tried to stand up. He was very angry.

But he was not allowed to speak. By then partisanship was running so high. The delegates had lost their reason.

The session ended almost in an uproar.

Delegates Bongbong and Jaime Opinion were very angry too—at Quintero. Do executioners really get angry with innocent victims?

“They had very guilty feelings,” Rebeck commented.


Thursday, October 12, 1972

On the way to the session hall this afternoon, I met Roseller Lim.

Nakuha na si Guingona,” Ller said grimly.

In the session hall, I sat beside Dr. Pinggoy and we talked about George. He said that actually George was taken in Capiz but was released after one week. He confirmed that the military had captured a subversive book from George. It was entitled The Ecumenical Revolution.

I did not attend the Sponsorship Council meeting any more because I know what was going to be taken up, namely, the assignments in the subcouncil groupings. I have already been informed that I am chairman of the first grouping on economic and fiscal policies and that Joe Concepcion and George Viterbo are my vice-chairmen.

It seems that we might yet finish the draft of the new Constitution earlier than we had previously anticipated. There is now a sense of urgency to finish it. Besides, the opposition has now been somewhat decimated in the Convention. It looks like by the end of December or, at the latest, end of January, the new Constitution will be ready for submission to the Filipino people. The question is when the plebiscite will be held.

In the evening, we went to Hotel Intercontinental to visit Ely Chiongbian Johnston. I had previously made an arrangement with Emil Ong that we were going to meet at the lobby of the hotel. Later, Pabling Trillana, Dancing Alfelor and Amado (Ding) Tolentino decided to join us. Still later, (Aying) Yniguez came along. When I arrived at the hotel lobby, they were all there already. They were chatting with Sen. Sonny Osmeña.

Sonny was insisting that he has it from reliable authority that he is not in the list. In any case, he said, he is not in hiding, and so far, he has not been bothered.

I corrected Sonny—almost impulsively, “You are wrong, Sonny. You and I were both in the list; in fact, our names followed each other. Fortunately for us, this is just the second list.”

Sonny Osmeña’s jaw fell.

Just then, the famous Teodoro (Doroy) Valencia—the super-columnist—appeared. Without provocation, he proclaimed in his soprano voice the latest of his achievements. Newsman Amando (Doro) Doronila would be released soon—on Doroy’s guarantee. Apparently, Doro Doronila was picked up at the Intercontinental Hotel on the very day he had arrived from Mongolia.

Doroy also boasted that it was because he has guaranteed Renato (Tato) Constantino that Tato has not been taken into custody. He added that he was turning three former Politburo men to Camp Crame this morning. And he is also responsible (to some extent) for the release of Flora Lansang.

I do not know how much one can believe Doroy. But he does command some influence in the community. Indeed, he is the most influential of our political columnists. I have disagreed with many of his obnoxiously rightist views many times. At the same time, however, I must admit that occasionally, I conciously massage his colossal ego because I cannot help but praise him for doing a great job of taking care of his kingdom—Rizal Park.

Shortly before we entered the elevator, Adrian Cristobal, a special assistant of Marcos, came by. Adrian is a great writer, just like his brilliant buddy, Blas Ople. I consider him a friend. In fact, when he was appointed secretary of labor, shortly after the inauguration of the Con-Con, he had invited me to his oath-taking in Malacañang. Innocently, I did go to the Palace. Upon seeing me there, the “First Lady,” Imelda, pleasantly greeted me with the words: “Aba, nandito pala ang mga radikal.” “Mabuti naman na paminsan-minsan ay na-dadalaw kayo ng mga radikal, I retorted, also pleasantly. It was then I discovered that the conjugal dictatorship had considered me a radical, and by inference, an enemy of the Marcos regime.

I wanted to test my suspicion that Adrian is the ghost writer of the very well-written book Today’s Revolution: Democracy, officially authored by the “First Gentleman.”

I complimented him on the quality of the book he had written. “It’s really good.”

He did not hide his pleasure on hearing this. “Only I can contradict the assumptions in that book,” he beamed.

We proceeded to Ely’s suite.

Aying Yniguez, son of the powerful Congressman Yniguez who is a close friend of Marcos, was the main character in the meeting. He said that he has been with President Marcos quite a number of times, and that at one session, he had told the President:

“Sir, I am a communist but I am a pro-Marcos communist.”

He said that Marcos is a kind man—very human—and that is the reason why Aying does not really mind being derisively called a Marcos “tuta.

Aying feels that Cong. Roquito Ablan, who is in the stockade, is going to be very deeply involved and his prospects are not very bright. In the case of Sen. Ninoy Aquino, he said, he might be able to save himself because of his popularity.

Speculate, speculate, speculate. This is all we can do now.

“The President is leading a leftist revolution, with the rightists being utilized by him to support his leftist revolution. If the President fails, the offshoot would be a military takeover.”

Aying claims that he is a trade unionist (he is supposed to be a labor leader in Leyte), and very anti-military in his orientation.

He feels that the CIA was not initially behind the proclamation of martial law. It was only recently that they supported it. He was actually at Malacanang with his father, Congressman Yniguez, when the top CIA man in Manila went to see the President.

“I know that the CIA is operating in the Philippines, but you did not give me even the courtesy of letting me know about it,” President Marcos was supposed to have ungraciously told the CIA group, as he unceremoniously dismissed them: “Good day, gentlemen.”

Gerry Johnston, the American husband of Delegate Ely Chiongbian, felt differently. He thinks that all the major changes in the political and military sections of the American Embassy tend to show that the Embassy knew all along that this was going to happen. And this Ambassador Byroade, he said, is coincidentally the same man who was involved in some operations in Vietnam.

How strange it was to hear this from Gerry!

My own gut feeling is that a certain amount of American complicity has surely attended the imposition of martial law. Marcos would not have dared take such a drastic move without American approval, express or implied. From President Johnson, who had coaxed Marcos into sending a Filipino engineer batallion to Vietnam, winning for him a state visit to Washington and a glowing endorsement by Johnson as his “right arm in Asia,” to President Nixon, who had openly shown his support for Marcos by sending California Gov. Ronald Reagan to Manila when Marcos ran for reelection three years ago, there have been indications that the U.S. was prepared, from the start, to accept the imposition of martial law because it was upset over the growing demonstrations in Manila and its (wrong) perception was that the Con-Con was taking a strong anti-American stance.

American business in the Philippines was, of course, anything but unsympathetic.

Aying also confided to us that, according to Bebet Duavit, President Marcos supports wholeheartedly the transitory provision of the new Constitution (a rather great understatement!).

Aying then asked my help in getting a unanimous vote.

“But Aying, I might be out of the country when this happens,” I demurred.

Aying was not convinced. “You will still be here because this thing will be taken up next week already. You cannot possibly be out of the country then—even if you wanted to.”

Next week? This is hard to believe. The transitory provision would be taken up next week? Marcos would like a grateful nation to crown him next week? Certainly not! This should be taken up, if at all, next year!

It will be next year, I convinced myself before I went to bed.


Tuesday, September 26, 1972

Michael Mastura was going to discuss the Christian-Muslim conflict in Cotabato at our ALDEC religious gathering. We were frantically asking Pastor Jun Lagunsad and Louise Palm to fetch Michael. I knew that he has become very reluctant about his speaking engagements because he, also, is afraid. He confided his apprehensions to me yesterday: he could be in the dreaded “list” (of those to be arrested by the military) because he has been critical of the government. There was an item in the Daily Mirror in which he was reported to be blaming President Marcos for the Christian-Muslim conflict.

I calmed his fears. There would be no problem because this was a group of earnest Christians trying to find out the truth in order to understand our realities—that’s all. They were young Christian leaders from some 12 countries who were caught by martial law and could not fly over to Cotabato for an actual look into the deteriorating relations between Christians and Muslims there.

Finally, Michael arrived at 11:00. By then, I had sacrificed my attendance at the Sponsorship Council meeting of the Con-Con.

Two hours later, at the Con-Con session hall, Ding Lichauco looked at me with gratitude for my concern. He seemed quite tense. He said that he was not sure whether he would be arrested or not. He has been half expecting to be taken since last Saturday.

I told him that if he was going to be taken into custody at all, he might as well give up and not entertain any thought of hiding because his chances of survival would be greater by giving up.

I felt sorry for Ding. Ding is not guilty of subversion.

“I am peeved at the straitjacket methods of some of our activist students. I think they have a pretty shallow analysis of the situation,” I comforted him. “Of course, I believe in their struggle for human liberation, but I work for liberation from a Christian perspective not in terms of a violent revolution.”

Ding was emphatic that he did not believe in Maoism either. In fact, he said, these “radical” students are guilty of adventurism. He said that his article on imperialism, precisely, was not Marxist in analysis or approach. He said he has done more to arouse nationalism among our people with his paper on imperialism than the activists have done with their Maoist slogans.

We felt that many Maoists in our country are both adventurists and romanticists who actually are far more dogmatic with their doctrines than we had supposed them to be.

“How long would the detention last, if it should come?” There was a faint note of desperation in Ding’s voice. “Tito Guingona has told me that martial law would last forever.”

Ding, in his agitated state of mind, was losing his rationality.

“Don’t believe Tito. After the government shall have caught the people it would like to catch, martial law would probably be lifted. And you could always read and write in the stockade,” I comforted him.

“But what if it should last for a year?” His voice trailed off.

“No, I don’t think it would last that long. Besides, you are not guilty of any crime.”

After about 30 minutes of our conversation, I said as a parting remark: “In the remote possibility that you are taken, Ding, send an SOS. I may be able to help you in some way.”

“Yes,” he replied sadly.

I left Ding and went to Bobbit Sanchez and Caling Lobregat.

Ten tense minutes passed. Suddenly Caling came to me and bent towards me.

“Ding has just been taken by the military.”

“What?” Unnerved, I slumped on my seat.

Sig Siguion-Reyna came to me and whispered that he was with Defense Minister Johnny Enrile, his brother-in-law, last night. These people mean business, he said. While he was with Enrile, they talked about a news item that Roquito Ablan was seen at Forbes Park. Sig said that Enrile himself ordered his soldiers: “Well, let’s put him immediately in the stockade, otherwise the people might say we are playing favorites with these people. We must get him in immediately.”

Likewise, when he was with Enrile, there was a phone call from President Marcos asking Enrile whether Mrs. Gordon, the mother of delegate Dick Gordon, was in the list. Enrile answered that she was in the first list but that he had already taken out her name. Enrile told Marcos he didn’t know why she was arrested by the military in spite of the fact that her name had already been taken out of the list.

But who prepared the list of politicians, student leaders, newsmen and dissenters to be arrested? It could not be Enrile because he knows me quite well. He knows I’m neither a Communist nor a man of violence; simply a practicing Christian who believes in the need for democratizing wealth and economic power in a society whose hallmark is that of distressing social and economic inequalities. Indeed, if we should really want to achieve development, we have to institute radical changes in our social structures, even as we should work for far-reaching changes in the structures of the world economy.

Sig warned us that there are many people in the list, and that the arrests have only started. He has also heard over the radio that according to President Marcos, mere speculations and rumors are punishable.

“In other words, do not speculate, do not spread rumors, do not think.”

Pabling Trillana interrupted our talk. He told me in a subdued tone that he had just signed a manifesto passed on to him by Tito Guingona.

“What was it about?” I asked.

“The manifesto opposing martial law, similar to the Diokno manifesto I signed and passed around four days ago.”

“You must be careful,” I advised him like an elder brother.

He became visibly afraid. He pleaded with me to talk with Tito Guingona and persuade him to try to “hold” the document that he had signed.

I continued advising Pabling Trillana. This is not the time for these things. We are now under difficult conditions.

He repeated his plea for me to talk with Tito.

I went to Tito. He was tense. He showed me the manifesto. He asked me to sign it, but I demurred.

“In fact, for your own safety, you should not release that,” I chided Tito. “Mrs. Trono has just told me she was worried about you because you are in the ‘list.'”

Mrs. Trono, although a Marcos supporter, showed genuine concern. “Guingona is innocent and is a good man. To all of you, young people who are innocent, please keep quiet. What can you do?”

Here was a rabid Marcos partisan—a political enemy—now showing sympathy for us. The springs of human compassion are indeed inexhaustible!

“Ninoy Aquino is so powerful but where is he now? What can you do? And you, Caesar, please don’t get involved. You with your transparent idealism, you should be serving your people, not be languishing in jail. And please tell Guingona not to get involved.”

I related all these to Tito, but he seemed ready for martyrdom. “We might as well express our last words before being taken in.” There was a note of bravado in his tone of voice.

“But there is no sense trying to be a martyr by courting detention. And what do we achieve? If we have to speak out, and risk our lives, let us do so. But let us be sure of our objective. Let us act at the right moment.”

“After all, we would just insert it in the records. He would not read it before the Convention.”

“Tito, you are a patriot. You and I are about to be arrested. Should we also get our friends involved?”

Could this be a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Is it not better to be a live coward than a dead hero? I salute Tito. Indeed, there are moments in our lives when we are compelled to certify what we think and what we believe.


February 22, 1970 Sunday

22Feb1970_1 22_Feb1970_2

PAGE 91

Office of the President

of the Philippines

Malacañang

 

 

February 22, 1970

Sunday

 

 

12:05 AM

 

Spent practically the whole afternoon (4:00 PM) up to about 8:00 PM with the military, Gens. Yan, Espino, Ileto, Garcia, Tanabe, Sabalones, Ordoñez, Col. Ver and Diaz. Gov. Nepomuceno with Eric Mendoza who is a former jet pilot resigned because of hazing and helping in the location of Dante and Arthur Garcia whom he confirms he met after the claim that he (Garcia) was killed by Dante, were also here. Gov. Nepomuceno is disturbed by my statement to him that his bodyguards are Dante’s men. So he is helping through Mendoza in the campaign to locate Dante.

We mapped out the plans in the event of the massive sabotage of the city and the public utilities. Transferred some of the armor to Central Luzon. They missed Dante by a few hours in Capas the other day.

But we have five companies [of] reserves for the Metrocom which has 1,339 men – one company each from the major services and one from GHQ. Then there are two HDF in Malacañang, two in Camp Crame and one in [Fort] Bonifacio. The different brigades are forming up. In the event of an emergency, the PA can organize two more complete battalions with equipment in Fort Magsaysay and Cebu for the April training.

Our unanimous assessment is that the subversives have no capability of mounting an attack of company proportion and probably will not but are capable of small unit harassment, sabotage and liquidation which capability should also be eradicated.

 

PAGE 92

Office of the President

of the Philippines

Malacañang

 

 

Cocoy reports that the people have faith in my capability to solve the problems we face.

Ablan Jr. claims Vic Villafranca whom he says is in his payroll will be the publisher of the Catholic newspaper for which a million dollars worth of printing machinery has been ordered. Villafranca is looking for an editor.

Benny Toda of PAL is allegedly organizing an intelligence team under Col. Hernandez, former J-2, to research on the administration – in retaliation for my open skies policy.

These rich people are back to their old tricks to protect their profits.

The new monetary policy seems to be received well. We will see how the market is tomorrow.