This is the perfect year and the right time for Juan Ponce Enrile to launch his autobiography. Had he produced this book a few years ago I don’t think people would have bothered reading it. Somehow his name has created a dreaded memory on our sleeves because of his role during the martial law years. In 1986, he redeemed himself and became an instant ‘hero’ as he led our country in the EDSA People Power revolution that ousted President Marcos.
When Cory Aquino assumed the presidency, she made Enrile her first Defense Minister. But he did not last long in the position. He was fired in November of the same year after allegedly plotting two failed coup attempts on President Cory. He was then brushed aside and given very little room to rise.
During this time, he went with the flow staying in the background of the political landscape of the nation. By sheer tenacity, he just held on to the twist and turns of Philippine politics until he became the Senate President after Manny Villar. His leadership as the Senate President gave him that chance to prove his worth. But his glorious days arrived during the Corona impeachment trial when the whole country was anticipating the fate of the case. Enrile seemed to have had a rebirth in representing himself as a statesman. Thanks to his skill in presiding, he demonstrated fairness and managed the hearings even-handedly. He used his wisdom to turn the tide. That was his hour. That was his moment of fame and glory at a time he needed to answer our country’s call.
Of course the Enrile-Trillanes episode in the Senate last week is another story. What we have seen is just the icing on the cake. The young neophyte is challenging the veteran rebel. Let’s wait and see. This exchange is actually good for the country. At least we are assured of checks and balances within government. But for this to happen right before a book launch is something else. It puts the Senate President at an advantage. The intense exchange of words and the walk out at the Senate sparked more public interest on the Senate President, just in time for the book launching of his memoirs on Thursday at the Manila Peninsula Hotel in Makati (where incidentally the Manila Peninsula rebellion led by Trillanes occurred on November 29, 2007).
I am happy to note that journalist Nelson A. Navarro, my father, Maximo V. Soliven’s biographer, edited the Senate President’s voluminous 772-page life story. I understand the book contains eye-popping accounts of the martial law years, especially the brutal infighting between the Ver-Imelda and the Enrile-Ramos factions as well as the dark intrigues leading to the 1983 Ninoy Aquino assassination and, in 1986, the fall of the Marcos dictatorship.
Reading between the lines of his memoir, the layman should be able to get a fuller picture of what finally drove Enrile to break ties with his long-time patron; there are more telling leads about who really killed Ninoy and how some cronies became super-rich at the expense of the poor. Although Enrile’ sharp legal mind gets in the way of truly damning disclosures, his narration of facts and circumstances can be very telling. JPE’s 50-year political career (and still counting) at the very top or within striking distance of power put him on friendly or even collision terms with such characters as Danding Cojuangco whom he helped set up Cocobank and buy out San Miguel, Cardinal Jaime Sin who inexplicably disparaged his role in Edsa, Imelda Marcos with whom he feuded non-stop down the years, Muammar Qaddafi who ordered him out of Libya, Joma Sison and Nur Misuari whom he always considered enemies of democracy, and, this comes as a surprise, the mysterious friend of a powerful man who unwittingly played a key role behind the scenes leading to EDSA.
As a teenager, I tagged along with my dad and Betty Go-Belmonte, pillars of the “Mosquito Press,” who were present from Day One of the EDSA drama. Dad wrote blow-by-blow accounts from the barricades, the culmination of a 14-year struggle that sent him to jail, sidelined his career, and ultimately culminated with the fall of the dictatorship and, not long after, the birth of The Philippine Star. Although JPE was at one time dad’s jailer, they got along quite well, both being Ilocanos; sometimes, they exchanged barbs at the 365 Club which is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. Dad appreciated Enrile finally “seeing the light” about Marcos. It’s better late than never.
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Last Saturday, the 365 Club celebrated its 40th anniversary at Hotel Intercontinental, Makati City. This club was founded on September 22, 1972, the day after President Marcos declared martial law.
During this time, martial law-displaced media personalities would gather daily at the ‘Jeepney’ coffee shop of Manila Intercontinental Hotel from 7:30 to way past 10:30 in the morning and conduct monologues, swap gossip and jokes, debate policies, and pay respects to the powerful as they eat mango and sip strong coffee.
The membership roster then was about 90, with 30 regulars – Cabinet members, Mayors, Commissioners, Correspondents, Editors, Columnists, Embassy Attaches, PROs, assorted kibitzers and hangers-on who would meet without fail from Monday to Sunday for their “daily fix” of conversation and caffeine.
There is only one rule at the 365 Club – when somebody talks about an inside report on government and business and tells people that it’s off-the-record, everybody should respect it. But, that rule is more in breach than in observance with so many journalists present.
The 365 Club did not only survive martial rule but also five presidents that came after. When the club founder, Doroy Valencia died in 1976, Emil Jurado took over.
I remember going to the 365 Club myself with my late father when I was around 7 years old. There I sat with Mayor Yabut, Jose Apiras, Doroy Valencia and Zeny Seva. I enjoyed listening to their stories and jokes while eating my favorite hotcake with bacon. I also remember my dad sipping a cup of coffee with the name 365 Club on it. According to Nelson Navarro my father was “the breakfast group’s resident gadfly for the rest of the Martial Law period”.
We must remember that the 365 Club was the only one allowed during the martial law years. It has no charter, no set of officers, no list of members and no particular purpose except to serve as venue for freedom of expression at a time when, as my dad wrote, “It was best to just keep your eyes and ears open…and your mouth shut!