"Chino" Roces Bridge was completely blocked off by the police and the military – there were almost as many cops as demonstrators trying to push their way in from Claro M. Recto avenue. A PNP band even provided music. The thousands waving Red flags and streamers were unable to make "Mendiola" and the Roces (Mendiola) Bridge their battleground as they had boasted.
Was "freedom of assembly" abridged? "No," argued Manila Mayor Lito Atienza when interviewed on television and challenged by TV broadcaster Pinky Webb on ANC. He politely insisted that five places in Manila had been approved for rallies and demonstrations, even Recto Avenue, but not the Chino Roces Bridge itself since he didn’t want a repetition of the "Mendiola Massacre" of farmer-demonstrators of some years ago, or the May 1, 2001 assault on the Palace via the Chino Roces Bridge. Pinky had posed a valid question, but Atienza handled it and yesterday’s situation quite well.
In Quezon City, Mayor S.B. (Sonny Belmonte) also permitted a peaceful march, but denied any would-be rallyists the opportunity to block traffic on EDSA. In any event, many people preferred to go to the Job Fair in Quezon City than angrily demonstrate on the streets. Getting a job is paramount in the minds of most of our population, not engaging in violent protest.
It’s good that Justice Secretary Raul Gonzalez’s . . . well, "prediction" that La Presidenta might reissue something like Proclamation 1017 – which would have been an awful blunder since the Supreme Court in Baguio is meeting en banc on that very question today – was never considered. As Cabinet Secretary Ricardo Saludo and Presidential Chief of Staff Mike Defensor had promised last Sunday, neither 1017 nor any emergency measures were imposed.
If you’ll recall, in the May 1, 2001 case, GMA had issued a "state of rebellion" declaration (a mistake). This was again declared during the Oakwood Mutiny on July 27, 2003. Then came Proclamation 1017 last February 24, which included the embarrassing and self-defeating overkill of a jittery takeover by the police of a small daily newspaper which had no capability of creating either harm or havoc.
Yesterday, all – or almost all – kept their cool.
If there was any violence, it occurred during May Day marches and demonstrations abroad, like that minor clash in Berlin, involving a counter-march by 4,000 members of the German Federation of Trade Unions (DGB) versus some 500 members of Germany’s neo-Nazi National Democratic Party (NPD).
Chino and this writer were picked up by METROCOM troopers and brought to Camp Crame in the first hours of martial law on September 21, 1971. When we got there, Senator Ninoy Aquino was already there, having been arrested at midnight in the Manila Hilton (now the Pavilion) on United Nations Avenue.
The following morning, with the Camp Crame Gym already jampacked with almost 300 detainees, a colonel arrived and read out a list of names. "Will the following kindly step forward," he prefaced his remarks.
He called out the names of Ninoy, Chino "Tatang" Roces, Senators Ramon V. Mitra Jr., Jose W. Diokno, former Senator Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo, Free Press Publisher and Editor Teddy Locsin Sr. (Teddyboy's dad); Free Press Associate Editor Napoleon Rama (now Publisher of the Manila Bulletin); Labor Leader Vicente Rafael; Constitutional Convention Delegate and TV Channel 5 newscaster Jose Mari Velez; Constitutional Convention Delegate Voltaire Garcia Jr. (who later died of leukemia under "house arrest") – and myself.
Before I forget, Nap Rama was also a Constitutional Convention Delegate. He and yours truly are the only ones left . . . well, still standing of that group.
Ninoy kept on saying, half-good-humoredly, "Eto na, eto na, firing squad na tayo!"
Another detainee, a newspaper editor and columnist was crying out: "My name! Why are you not calling my name?" I stomped on his foot and fiercely whispered to him: "Shaddup, partner. Firing squad ito!" He promptly, wisely I’d say, shut up.
They finally took our group of 11 down EDSA, almost two dozen METROCOM cars "escorting" our prison bus, lights flashing and wang-wangs going. We speculated whether the convoy would turn right on Buendia avenue – perhaps we would be shot at the Luneta like Jose Rizal (what conceit). The convoy turned left instead and sped directly for Fort Bonifacio’s MSU (Military Security Unit) compound.
They didn’t shoot us that day, but the next morning (a Sunday), the military sent us a priest to say Mass and hear our confessions. We all confessed heartily, except Voltaire who was a free-thinker and said he didn’t believe in heaven or hell, but added he’d "probably go to hell anyway." In a kind of gallows joke, I warned Volt that he’d better confess because if he went to hell, he might meet Marcos there later. But he stood firm.
I was assigned as "room-mate" of Ninoy later, which made me both happy – and fearful. We all knew Ninoy was the man Marcos hated most, and if I were his cellmate then I might have gone up in the hate list.
"Tatang" Chino was among the bravest of us all, never losing his sense of humor. He named himself "chief of the kitchen" while Ninoy and I cleaned the toilets. Ninoy made that dirty latrine shine, I kid thee not.
That stint in maximum security prison taught us that we must never take our freedom for granted. We found that they could be snatched away in a single night.
He asserted in one unforgettable speech: "We must criticize to be free, because we are free only if we criticize."
This was Chino Roces’ mission, too, when he ran the "Manila Times" (we were headquartered in the old TVT building on Florentino Torres street, just off Plaza Santa Cruz). The symbol of the Times was a newsboy, calling out the news.
When I started writing my daily column, "By the Way", (yep, still the same old name) Chino had told me: "Max, never let anything I say or do influence what you write!"
My other beloved Patron in the "Manila Times" was the newspaper’s President, Benito "Bibilo" Prieto. I loved that man. Everytime I had a problem, I would immediately go to Bibilo and he’d solve it immediately.
It was Don Benito Prieto who suggested to Chino that the newspaper give me a daily column. (At that time, the rival Manila Chronicle – which was very much smaller in circulation, but influential – was offering me the post of Editor-in-Chief. I had started out with the Chronicle many years earlier, but had resigned from it, and subsequently joined the Times as Asst. Business Editor). By coincidence my late patron Don Benito is the father of our friend Alex Prieto and father-in-law of Marixi Rufino Prieto, Chair of The Inquirer.
But those days were long ago. Forgive me for reminiscing and boring you with those snippets of nostalgia provoked by yesterday’s constant mention of the Don Chino Roces Bridge.
Incidentally, Chino’s son, Joaquin C. Roces Jr. is the Publisher of the VILLAGE VOICE. Not only has Joaquin Jr., whom we affectionately call Wacky – no reference to his state of mind – inherited his father’s grit, but he remains a fanatical biking aficionado.
Wacky Roces and this writer have a common complaint – attention all Metro Manila Mayors, please, especially San Juan Mayor J.V. Ejercito. Jeepney drivers are being "permitted" to drive with their headlights off, i.e. navigating completely in the dark. The misguided belief of too many jeepney drivers is that they will save on "battery consumption" by keeping their headlights off. This leads to many accidents. Roces himself – who frequently goes biking – was knocked down by a jeepney running with its lights out last year and broke his collarbone and a rib. This sort of mishap is repeated week after week, with collisions occurring and pedestrians getting knocked down!
In Davao City, I once went on "patrol" with the city’s two-fisted Mayor Rody Duterte. He personally would speed up and nab jeepneys operating with their headlights "out." This violation is one of his pet peeves. Our Metro Mayors, especially in San Juan where I’ve noticed it so often, must act resolutely on this, and instruct both policemen and traffic aides to pay special attention to this violation.