As for the Sulu "war"? Or the Mindanao crisis? Once both were in the headlines – now, both are on the back-burner. With our troops almost forgotten in the field and, hopefully not, becoming disheartened, the Abu Sayyaf may get away, and Islamic Fundamentalist Moros are even harassing the mission from the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC) here to study their grievances and propose solutions.
It’s a balls-up all over – and nobody, caught up in the grip of "oust Erap" fever, seems to care. All eyes are focused on the Senate "hearings," the Johnny Ponce Enrile bill calling for "snap elections" (are they constitutionally feasible?), political loyalty-checks, demonstrations and counter-demonstrations.
For that matter, the unfortunate "blackout" (why do we call them "brownouts"?) that hit Luzon the other day could not have happened at a worse time. It only racheted up the tension and fueled jittery talk of coups, "martial law", or other sinister plots. Let’s face it. There will be more blackouts in the weeks to come: already the soaring cost of oil and fuel (the Mid-East clashes have upped world prices from $30 to as astronomical $35 a barrel) – and our oil-based generating plants will be severely affected. We’re being hit with a triple whammy: our domestic political crisis exacerbated by the jueteng payola scandal has sent the peso into meltdown and ravaged the stock market and the economy, while stock markets, too, are being battered all over the world (the euro itself floundering and the European Central Bank tripping over its own governor’s tongue), while the escalating "war" between Israel and the Palestinians, and beyond that intifada an increasingly hostile Arab world, has made the planet uncertain of its oil supply.
It’s not happy days for anyone, but worst afflicted are us Filipinos. It is a period of shame for us. When you travel abroad, we can’t deny it, there’s an ill-disguised snigger at the Philippine passport.
What worries me is that Crime, which never takes a holiday, is rising when, earlier, it seemed to be abating. When a President himself is being accused of being in the rackets, the racketeers decide it’s "open season" on all unarmed and helpless civilians. And the President and his Executive Branch can’t seem to refocus their attention on the battle against crime when the administration is consumed with the problem of defending itself.
Without leadership and courage, a "headless" nation cannot beat back the barbarians.
Perhaps this is what moved the US Chargés d’Affaires, acting Ambassador Mike Malinowski (normally the Deputy Chief of Mission) to call on President Estrada last Friday afternoon. The 6 p.m. visit lasted, I’m informed, an hour and a half.
Malinowski went to Malacañang to deliver a letter from US President Bill Clinton (himself, at this stage, for want of a better description, a lameduck chief executive, since even his anointed successor Vice-President Al Gore has been snubbing him in the closing weeks of a photo-finish presidential race). The Embassy took some pains to let it "leak out" that the Clinton letter had not been political, but had been written to thank him for his visit and a gift he had delivered.
On the other hand, Malinowski was said to have assured Estrada of continuing US support as long as his administration remained firm in the "Constitutional process." There can be quite a number of interpretations of what this meant, one of them a subtle reminder that Washington, DC would not approve of any resort to martial law or emergency "measures," but it’s anybody’s guess at this stage. In any event, the meeting was cordial and supportive. You can also read what you wish into the fact that Ambassador Malinowski was accompanied to this Palace meeting by Jose Manuel "Babes" Romualdez, who is the public relations "spokesman" (as everybody knows) of American interests in the Philippines.
Malinowski, by the way, had sent to the Veep’s press conference his press attaché and public information officer.
At present, if you analyze the situation, there is a sort of interregnum in US relations with Manila. US Ambassador Tom Hubbard returned to Washington, DC two months ago for reassignment, and there is no "new" Ambassador designated, since the previously nominated Ambassador Peter Burleigh (a former US Ambassador to the United Nations) opted for retirement when his nomination stalled in the US Senate. Presumably, the assignment of a new Ambassador will have to wait for the assumption of office of the next American President to be elected next month, in November. It’s no secret that President Estrada favors Al Gore, with whom he is friendly – which may prove uncomfortable if, instead, the Republican contender, Texas Governor George W. Bush is elected in a hard-fought contest which sees the two rivals running almost neck-and-neck as they come down to the wire.
In his last trip to the US, Erap had said in speeches to the Filipino communities in Chicago and Honolulu that he was a "Clinton convert" and might even be accused as being pro-Democrat. This just goes to show that even in diplomacy, Erap is a gambler. For, while Gore "won" the third and last presidential debate in St. Louis, Missouri – by a whisker – and has in his favor the "prosperity factor," this is no guarantee that the likeable Bush won’t slide into first (as they say in baseball) at the very last minute. Whoever triumphs, it’s said, will still have to deal with a Republican-dominated Congress.
There’s no doubt that Gore would be friendly to the Philippines, although we’re far from an American priority these days. On the other hand, let me say what I feel, win or lose. There are two things which I admire in Bush (while I deplore the idea of a "dynasty" perpetuating itself). And it’s his backbone. For Bush could have had an easier ride by espousing – as Gore does so glibly, "freedom of choice" for women in the case of abortion. In the face of many frowns, Bush stuck to his guns in opposing abortion (a position which will cost him many votes, possibly crucial and decisive ones) while willing to compromise on "necessary" abortions and vowing not to pack the Supreme Court with conservatives. Secondly, I recall something he said at the beginning of his electoral drive when asked about his prospective foreign policy. In reply, the Texas governor had answered that he would go out of his way to support America’s "friends", as in Asia, he enumerated, South Korea, Japan and the Philippines.
"I want our friends to know that they are our friends not only when we need them," Bush had asserted. "But that they will still be our friends when we don’t need them!" I hope he remembers those words, and their implications are not written in water, if he pulls off the miracle of being elected President of the United States of America.
In a book, To The Best of My Ability, a volume on American Presidents, which just came off the press in New York (edited by Pulitzer Prize-winning Historian James M. McPherson), biographer Thomas Fleming says that "the defining moment in James Knox Polk’s life occurred in 1823, when he asked Gen. Andrew Jackson for advice on how to further his political career. "Stop this philandering!" Jackson said. "You must settle down as a sober married man."
"The handsome twenty-seven-year old Polk was secretary of the Tennessee state senate – a job that ignited in him a passion for politics. But he had been giving the ladies of Tennessee equal time in his off-hours."
"Which lady shall I choose?" Polk asked. The general replied: "The one who will give you no trouble." He did not suggest a name, but went on: "Her wealth, family, education, and health are all superior. You know her well."
"You mean Sarah Childress?" Polk asked, surprised by the old warrior’s perspicacity. "I shall go at once and ask her."
The tall, dark and intelligent 19-year-old Sarah Childress proved to also have a passion for politics. She informed Polk that she would accept his proposal if he ran for a seat in the state legislature, and won. He did that: and they were married on January 1, 1824.
A year later, Polk was in Congress where he was for eight years a steadfast supporter of his idol, the general, President Andrew Jackson through thick and thin, even in his most controversial decisions and actuations.
His ascent to the Presidency was not easy. He was doublecrossed and downgraded many times. But, finally, "Young Hickory" as he was called by the Democrats (Jackson was known as "Old Hickory") won the 1844 election by a thin margin. A shift of just five thousand votes in New York, for example, would have given the White House to his opponent, Henry Clay. Polk had to govern a nation with his own Democratic Party split into warring factions, a difficult task. He once wryly wrote into his diary in 1847: "Though I occupy a very high position, I am the hardest working man in the country!"
While comparatively a "colorless" man, Polk nonetheless took bold positions. When the Mexican army, bitter at having lost Texas and eager to recapture the Lone Star State, ambushed an American cavalry patrol, killing 16 men, Polk declared war on Mexico. This was a chancy gamble. The Mexicans had a well-equipped and battle-tested army of 32,000 veterans, toughened by years of civil war. The US Army of the time numbered only 7,000 and had fought no wars, except to suppress restless Indian tribes over the previous three decades. Polk supplemented the regular army with volunteer regiments, invading Mexico "to conquer a peace" and dispatched his troops as well to New Mexico and California, which the Americans "captured" with relative ease. Officered by West Pointers (Polk dispatched each graduating class immediately into combat), the American army never lost a battle.
His success, however, also proved his undoing. His "war" gave a rival, Gen. Zachary Taylor, the dash and glamor to challenge him. After winning battles on the Rio Grande and in northern Mexico, Taylor became a national icon. Yet, Polk was "smeared" and stabbed in the back by his own Democrats for having fought a war for territory rather than principle. General Taylor, for his part, attacked Polk with vicious letters to friends who "leaked" them to the press.
In 1847, when Gen. Winfield Scott battered his way to the Mexican capital and took it, Polk sought to sweeten the ensuing peace treaty by agreeing to pay Mexico US$15 million for its lost provinces. (Mexico, of course, never forgave the United States for its "imperialism").
In sum, it was Polk who defined the boundaries of the US as the continental power it is today. But he was attacked instead of being rewarded for his role. Lacking charisma, he drew no crowds to his final speeches. His health deteriorated rapidly (he suffered from severe bowel and stomach complaints). When he left office in 1849, he was an exhausted and broken man.
On June 15, 1849, three months after he left the White House, Polk was dead. His nunc dimitis were the sad words with which he described his stint in the Presidential office: "They have been years of incessant labor and anxiety."
Polk’s story is a reminder that the Presidency of any country, to a man who conscientiously bears its burdens, is a difficult and, often, unrewarding one. But another President, Harry S. Truman (also underestimated in his time) paid the "unremembered" Polk the finest tribute, calling him "a great President (who) said what he intended to do and did it."
Would that our own leaders could emulate him.