Neither Pope nor saint can ‘bless away’ bloody murder — with impunity

La Presidenta stole a march on her foes and critics, including those within the clergy by speeding to Rome to be photographed in sober-dressed and prayerful piety being blessed by the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI.

She must have received a few thousand indulgences "freeing" her from the Purgatory of her impeachment attacks and other cries of damnation hurled at her persona in this home archipelago of tears.

One Bishop groused, however, that the Pope had only hailed her for the gift she brought. The gift she laid at the Supreme Pontiff’s feet was, of course, the abolition of the Death Penalty in the Philippines, which she presented book-bound.

In jubilation, the Roman Colosseum’s stately ruins – a place where thousands of Christians were once burned at the stake, crucified, or torn to pieces by wild beasts while the Roman public in the packed galleries roared in approval – was lit up to signal the end of the "barbaric" practice in this country.

Alas, we may see the effects of that abolition soon enough, in more persons being slaughtered by murderers and assassins – and, in retaliation, a rampage by death squads and vigilante "justice."

Then, switching her schedule from Bilbao and San Sebastian in the Basque Country, GMA instead landed in Galicia, Spain, to follow the pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostela. In the Middle Ages, Santiago de Compostela was the third most important place of pilgrimage in Christendom after Jerusalem and Rome.

Instead, La Glorietta and her holy entourage did it the easy way, not taking any of the famed and sanctified routes of the peregrinos who came by land and sea. One of the renowned stops on the ancient Camino del Santiago was the Templar Castle (since The Da Vinci Code put them back in the spotlight) at Ponteferrada. The Knights Templar were, of course, the ones who invented the "letter of credit" universally used in bank communications up to the modern day. Pilgrims to Jerusalem, Rome, or Santiago, for fear of being robbed, never carried gold, silver or any form of money. All they needed was a coded letter or piece of parchment which they could "cash in" at the most convenient Templar castle or outpost. The Templars of Ponteferrada were called the banqueros – the Bankers – of the Santiago route. Better than an ATM machine.
The President, naturally, had no need to encounter such hazards. She went straight, I hear from the airport, to that wonderful Cathedral (dating back to the 11-12th centuries) on the site of the original basilica built by King Alfonso II. This is perhaps significant: She entered through the famous carved Portico de Gloria, renowned as one of the masterpieces of Christian art; the same lofty portal through which pilgrims streamed during Medieval times.

* * *

The Cathedral is dedicated to the Patron Saint of Spain – the Apostle St. James (Santiago) who, legend declares, was sent by God to honor and succor his people, the Spaniards. This miraculous Saint’s full name, however, ought not to have escaped La GMA’s pious researchers – St. James’ title is Santiago Matamoros (St. James killer of Moros)! That’s where we got the name for our own Muslims, from the "Moros" or Arabs from North Africa who had conquered most of Spain, down south in Andalucia, and ruled that Iberian peninsula for more than 800 years. It was the Catholic reconquista, the struggle by arms, which had finally, after centuries of warfare, with splendid periods of peace, too, which saw Islamic education, science and civilization at its apex, had liberated Spain from the Moro yoke.

Spanish armies would hurl themselves into battle, shouting the war cry: "Santiago y Cierra España!" And, tradition said, there would be Santiago Matamoros galloping above them, sword fiercely directed against the Islamic horde.

Did GMA, in her pilgrimage, forget that aspect? Or did she intend to send a message to the MILF, the Jemaah Islamiyah, the Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro terrorists or insurgents? In Spain, since it is politically incorrect, they no longer noisily invoke the Matamoros aspect of the revered St. James – but there he is, in statue, girded for battle. You approach his altar from the rear, up a few steps, and embrace him.

What do you say to him in prayer – and what answer does he whisper back to your secret heart?

* * *

The President has been blessed by both a Pope and a Saint on her current pilgrimage and she will now be in Madrid to visit the King and Queen. (Sounds like a nursery rhyme – remember?) One does not begrudge our Chief Executive this journey of importance, but I’m sure she too remembers that neither Pope nor Saint (the two are not necessarily interchangeable) can banish with their benediction the fact that the Philippines has become a slaughterhouse, with mayor and commoner, militant and innocent bystander, journalists and knave (an oxymoron, of course) being gunned down or blown up – with, and this is the irreplaceable term, with impunity.

Now, since capital punishment has been legally abolished, the law of the jungle (already creeping in to take over) has been fully installed. The trouble with vigilante "justice", since the courts and the penal system can no longer promise justice, is that it is random and vindictive. Yet, what is the alternative?

Death squads, alas, in the end tend to run amok. For assassins, murder becomes not just a mission of redress, but a habit, then, finally, a pleasure. The killer becomes judge, jury – and executioner.

Even while still in hospital, I managed to confer with Police Director General and Police Chief Arturo C. Lomibao who came to visit me. Lomibao, who is retiring on July 5, his birthday, has done a crackerjack job – but he had only one year and four months in which to do it. Too few men. Too little resources. Not enough firearms. Too many rascals in the police force. What can even the most earnest, hardworking, courageous chief of police accomplish – when he’s already a lameduck on the very day he was appointed? I’ve argued – and this, too, quite often with the President herself – that a police chief must have three years in which to lead. It won’t happen. The next guy slated to take over will, if my calculations are correct, have only eleven months until he retire also – next year. The third in line just about a year and a half.

I hope the bill gets passed giving a police chief the minimum term of three years – it’s not gotten very far in the House of Representatives where they’ll now all be obsessed, when they resume sessions, with "impeachment" and Cha-cha. The sigaw ng bayan is not that silly people’s "initiative" – in truth, the people want to be safe, not "chartered."

They want freedom from fear, freedom from want, freedom from ignorance. What’s a piece of paper called a "constitution?" The people’s welfare is in the heart, not in words or script.

* * *

I read a story yesterday in another newspaper about a "dark horse" emerging in the race for new PNP Chief.

Sorry, but smoke is being blown into the faces of the public by spin doctors and image-makers who’re using the oldest dodge in the book. No matter his virtues, real or contrived, Director Servando Hizon, Chief of the directorate for Comptrollership was never in the running for the top PNP post.

Maybe the instigators of the rumor want to flush out whether General Lomibao’s successor will be Deputy Director General Oscar "Oka" Calderon, deputy chief for administration, or the current third in line, Director General Avelino I. "Sonny" Razon Jr. (Oka comes from PMA ’73, while Sonny belongs to PMA ’74).

Might as well admit that Art Lomibao (PMA ’72) will be retiring come his birthday (he was born in Mangaldan, Pangasinan). He will be offered his choice of two major posts by the President – but La Boss Lady will announce that after her return before noon this coming Sunday.

Art has – by her own declaration – done such an exemplary job against great odds, but she feels she must stick, at this time, to the chain of command. Which gives you a hint, doesn’t it, that Armed Forces Chief of Staff, General Generoso Senga will be retiring, as well, on his next birthday, July 26th.

It will, in truth, be the changing of the guard in both services. Both so vital, by the way, in helping shore up GMA and keeping her secure in office, even against more than 200 angry impeachment signatories.

Lomibao, though, has many other options – on his own hook. But I’m not in the cracked crystal-ball gazing business.

* * *

The front pages will all be full of news about Mayor Delfinito Albano, Mayor of Ilagan, Isabela, being gunned down by three men whose Toyota Revo (plate no. XJM-532) blocked the path of his Isuzu Trooper (plate no. XJA-359).

Mind you, this murderous assault took place on Scout Santiago Reyes St., about 11:10 p.m. not in some remote barangay, but in Quezon City. Albano tried to dodge into a nearby cafe, but was pursued and peppered with bullets – succumbing to 23 gunshot wounds. In a supposedly well-policed area, the culprits got away in quite leisurely fashion.

Delfinito, 45, was the half-brother of a cousin of ours, Energy Regulation Chairman Rudy Albano. Rudy, in quiet anger, named no suspects. "We have no known enemies," he said, "but our family demands justice."

In the Ilocano context this, it must be said, sounds ominous. You don’t identify those you may intend to kill in retaliation. (Who me?) The family, whatever controversy Delfinito might have been involved in . . . will get justice.

This is what I’ve been warning about. When you make the law toothless by abolishing the death penalty, Lex Talionis will prevail. In feudal societies up north from where I come, Darkest Ilocoslovakia, the law of the vendetta has long prevailed. Today, sadly it has been reinstated.

In the province of Isabela, up in the mountain area, is a town named in honor of my late father, Ilocos Sur Congressman and Assemblyman Benito T. Soliven. By the way, Benito Soliven town has for many years also been a well known headquarters of the New People’s Army. That’s another agency that bloodily claims to give you "justice."

My apologies, incidentally to the Mayor. His letter was misplaced asking me to help them support and celebrate the town fiesta. I would have done so, with pleasure. Maybe next year, sir, if I’m still in the land of the living. But I may have to tote along my own "peacemaker" as they used to say in America’s old Wild West (now It’s Wild Iraq).

* * *

I had a long talk recently with Police Deputy Director General Avelino I. Razon Jr. At 21, Sonny was a Philippine Constabulary lieutenant, seeing combat through the years from Mindanao to Manila. As Western Police District Director, and was a genuine gangbuster. In sum, he’s a toughie.

No, dear – I’m not telling you he’s going to be the next PNP Chief because that’s not, for the moment, in the cards. But eventually, I trust, he will be.

Remember how National Geographic series and other wire agencies credited General Razon (which a foreign commentator mispronounced as "Rayson") with playing a vital role in unraveling the plans of al-Qaeda bomber Ramzi Youssef after his PC computer was captured by Razon’s policemen when the terrorists’ Manila apartment caught fire? This unveiled the Bojinka Plot – the first step towards 9/11 in the United States. If only the US and Philippine agencies had read these cryptic messages and hi-jack programs in the computer right. Could the Twin Towers and Pentagon tragedies been avoided?

Razon reminded me that the 115,000 policemen we have (15,000 in Gen. Vid Querol’s National Capital Region Command where he’s doing his best) are short of 21,000 firearms. Imagine 21,000 cops without guns! Where are our Pork Barrel boys in the Senate and House putting our taxpayers’ money?

The much-touted P1 billion extra fund has only enough budgeted for 5,000 additional sidearms for the police – a little known 9 mm. called the "Taurus" even though it’s reputed to be a little cousin of the famed and respected Austrian Glock. Oh well.

I’d prefer the Glock, or the Beretta, but what we really need are cops who shoot bravely, know when and when not to shoot – and who are straight-shooters. Need I say more?

* * *

THE ROVING EYE . . . Or, rather, a word of heartfelt gratitude. As you know, the stupid myth of Supermax has definitely been busted. Double-pneumonia struck me down, giving me not just an intimation of my mortality. One day you’re in full operation, meeting friends, having coffee in the mall, discussing projects. The next day, you’re in the hospital – being rushed to the emergency room and the intensive care unit – struggling painfully for every breath. Thanks to your prayers – I’m deeply humbled – I’m out of it. I guess the Good Lord decided to give this undeserving sinner one more chance, one more battle to be fought, one more hill to climb. I have no Excalibur like King Arthur, no Singing Sword like Prince Valiant, no dragon sword like Vietnam’s emperor who defeated the conquering Chinese then returned his god-given weapon which flashed back to the depths of Hanoi’s lovely Lake of the Restored Sword. No broken lance like Don Quijote, to forever tilt with windmills and battle armies of sheep. But even the flimsiest and rustiest of blades is powerful and the advance irresistible, when people, moving forward together, their hearts alight and beating in unison, struggle for justice and right. Before I begin to sound maudlin, I say no more. Simply salamat po – and God bless us all.