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By Dante A. Ang
First of three parts
ONE of the things that puzzles many of us today
is why, despite its global decline, communism in the Philippines is
growing in strength and in number. What adds to the paradox is that
although sources of foreign funds have reportedly stopped, the
Communist Party of the Philippines, or the CPP, has been steadily
getting arms and mounting a sustained offensive against the
military with such force and intensity unseen before.
Last year the NPA assaulted several municipal
halls and army detachments in daring daytime raids, bringing into
sharper focus the growing strength of the Left. The raids also raise
questions about the power of the police and the military not only to
prevent such attacks, but to protect vital installations and
legitimate businesses from the pernicious forces of the Left.
For instance, the NPA burned several Globe and Smart towers, serving
as a reminder of its influence in the countryside.
It is widely believed that the funds are
generated internally mainly from the so-called revolutionary taxes
imposed by the NPA on businesses. Found mostly in the depressed
regions, companies are taxed two percent of gross on the average.
Negotiations do happen occasionally, though.
Another source of funds for the CPP comes from
the so-called Permit to Campaign, or PTC. Candidates for local and
national positions pay fees to the NPA before they can campaign in
areas influenced or controlled by the communists. No pay, no
campaign. Those who choose to ignore the PTC do so at their peril.
Fees vary with the position the candidates are
running for and with their capability to pay. The higher the
position, the higher the fees. Or, the richer the candidates, the
higher the fees. Occasionally, candidates haggle.
The government has warned candidates not to pay
PTC fees on pain of disqualification. Many candidates, however, have
chosen to ignore the government’s warnings.
Ka Roger casually pointed to a prominent Cabinet
member who was very vocal against paying dues to the NPA yet was
among the very first to pay the PTC fees when he ran for governor of
a Southern Luzon province. He did so every time he would run for
public office and even before the campaign period could officially
begin. This Cabinet member was also appointed to various Cabinet
posts under various administrations.
‘Economically and militarily independent’
The local communists have gone a long way.
They have apparently become “economically and militarily
independent” in their struggle for ideological dominance.
Estimates of the PTC fees in the past election
season alone vary from a low of P1 billion to a high of P2 billion.
Whatever it is, the NPA has evidently been waging its campaign
against the government largely on its own resources.
Alarmed by the growing presence of the NPA, the
Philippine government sought the help of the United States last year
to help curb the flow of foreign assistance to the local communists
by having them declared international terrorists.
The government had mistakenly surmised that once
the CPP is tagged as a terrorist organization, the NPA would be
denied foreign funds so that in time it would sue for peace.
The Philippines, through the late secretary of
foreign affairs, Blas F. Ople, had lobbied in Europe for the
inclusion of the CPP as a terrorist organization. The CPP protested
the terrorist tag. At one time the NDF had made its removal from the
list of terrorist fronts as a precondition for the resumption of
peace talks with the government.
The government had also hoped that after the CPP
was tagged as a terrorist organization, the Dutch government would
deport the NDF leader Jose Maria Sison from Utrecht. That did not
happen. Sison was able to stay the deportation. The case is still
pending in Utrecht.
Since 1945 Philippine presidents had tried to
end the internecine strife. But nothing seemed to have worked. The
communists have grown stronger and their number kept on multiplying.
In her desire to end the decades-long conflict,
Corazon Aquino ordered the political prisoners freed soon after she
took power in 1987 to show her government’s sincerity to reach out
to the insurgents.
Allies in the fight against former President
Ferdinand Marcos, Aquino and the Left had forged an agreement to
pursue peace.
Thus the peace negotiations with the NDF began
in earnest. But it didn’t take long for the talks to be scuttled.
They were marred by violations and charges of counterviolations.
For one thing, the hard-liners from both sides
of the political divide were so intransigent that the only way peace
could be attained would be for the other party to capitulate. For
them, anything short of that would betray the people’s trust.
Both sides believed in the nobility of their
causes: it was just a matter of time before the other party was
annihilated and subjugated.
Government hard-liners, for their part, claim it
is winning the fight against the NPA and therefore see no need for
the government to forge a peace agreement with the “enemies of the
state.”
They never run out of statistics to support
their claim of victorious encounters with the NPA in the field. They
say those numbers strongly indicate that the government is winning
the war against the insurgents.
You can’t sleep with the enemy
Privately, however, some generals I’ve spoken
to are against the peace process more out of pique. They simply want
to avenge their comrades who were either wounded or killed in the
campaign against the NPA. They are also afraid those who were
wounded in combat and those who had lost a friend won’t be so
magnanimous in forging peace with the “enemy.”
On a more noble note, however, they are against
forging a peace agreement with the NDF for ideological reasons. They
cannot bear the prospect of having to “sleep with the enemy.”
Only a renunciation of the armed struggle by the NDF would be
acceptable to the military and the police before they could sign a
peace agreement with the CPP/NDF.
On the other hand, the NDF and its armed
component, the NPA, are not expected to lay down their arms or to
renounce their armed struggle-peace or no peace. They, too, believe
they are winning the protracted war against the government.
It may seem paradoxical, but like most of us,
they, too (the CPP/NDF/NPA), long for peace.
And there lies our story or, rather, the story
of Gregorio Rosal, also known as Ka Roger. This is not an attempt to
glorify Ka Roger or the NPA. Neither is this an endorsement of their
cause nor an indictment of the police and the military.
Unveiling the persona
The Manila Times is publishing a series of
articles on its interview with Ka Roger to unveil the persona behind
the issues and to better appreciate the challenges that lie before
us. By doing so, we hope to contribute to a better understanding of
the relevant issues at bar so that the continuing talks between the
government and the NDF could be held in a climate of mutual
understanding and trust.
The Times spent two days and one night in late
March somewhere along the boundary of Quezon and Bicol provinces to
interview Ka Roger. We left Manila one early morning. We were met by
a courier at a designated place. He was young. Only 30 years old,
maybe even younger; single. Clean-cut. Very articulate. Very
respectful.
He introduced himself to us as “James.” He
looked like an ordinary young man. There was nothing special about
his looks and mannerisms. If we did not know any better we would
have mistaken him for an office worker, a policeman or a soldier
even. He sported a crewcut and must be five feet five inches tall.
He took our mobile phones for safekeeping after
shutting them off the moment we rode in the car. We told him we
understand. Not wanting to waste time, we had our lunch in the car
while driving. We stopped only to take a pee or buy a drink from the
ubiquitous gasoline stations that line the road all the way to our
final destination.
We knew we were nearing our meeting place when
James advised our driver to watch for certain road characteristics.
Soon after, we made a sharp turn to the left. The road was rough,
uncemented. We opened the car’s windows briefly. It was cool.
Fresh. The air was filled with the smell of grass reminiscent of the
rice fields I used to frequent as a young boy to catch spiders.
The road was still wet and some parts were
muddy. It must have drizzled the night before. If there was
electricity, I did not notice it. There were no electric posts. No
cars, no jeepneys. Not even tricycles. Occasionally, we would pass
some farmers walking alongside their carabaos.
After some kilometers, James asked us to roll up
our windows as we were approaching a barangay. Apparently, he did
not want people to see us and arouse suspicion. If people would ask
what we were doing there, he instructed us to say that we were
inspecting a property being offered for sale.
A few more kilometers and James signaled our
driver to stop in front of an unfinished chapel. It was almost 3
p.m. He told us we could park our car there for the night. He gave
us the impression that it had been prearranged with the barangay
captain. We tried to park the car within the chapel’s lot but
couldn’t. A big log blocked the entrance to the designated parking
space through the chapel’s side.
James got off the car and looked around. He
seemed restless. We figured we were supposed to be met by his fellow
NPA. Good thing the place was largely uninhabited despite the
presence of a chapel. We would have invited attention if not
outright curiosity. The contrast between our presence and the place
was simply striking. Imagine strangers in a relatively new van in a
place that seemed to have been transported back in time where the
only transportation was through a native sled pulled by a carabao.
Moments later, James called somebody from his
mobile phone. We could hear him ask for the whereabouts of the
welcoming party. I was getting worried. Not so much about the
prospect of police and military assets getting wind of our presence
as about traveling in unfamiliar mountainous terrain under cover of
darkness.
I have difficulty walking especially at night. I
wear eyeglasses with a prism. Without the prism, I see double. This
is due to the weakening of the muscle in my left eye. I need an eye
surgery to close the cleavage in my eye muscles, but the gap is
still too narrow, according to my doctor. It would be risky to
operate at this stage. What’s more, I have difficulty calculating
distances. My vision lacks depth. An object may be near but it seems
remote in my image. It takes a while for my eyes to settle down and
be able to calculate depths and distances.
Some twenty minutes later, two young men came
out of the bush close to the road leading up to the mountain. In
single line and some feet away from each other, they walked toward
us. We figured they must be our welcoming party. True enough, James
started to talk to them. They motioned our driver to start the car
and to park it in a fenced yard where a hut stood a few meters from
the chapel.
Only then did I realize that we were being
watched. People, all women and mostly children who live in the hut,
started to mill around us as we got off our car. Very clearly, they
know the people we were with. They smiled at us as we offered them
some cookies and chocolates.
One thing I noticed, though. I did not see any
men. I found out later that one of the young men who fetched us was
the son of the woman living in the hut. That’s why we did not see
any men when we parked our car. Most of the men in the
neighborhood had joined the NPA and abandoned the comfort of their
homes. Only the women and the children stayed behind.
The road was wet, muddy and slippery, otherwise
passable. As we began our trek on foot, I noticed the ease with
which James and our guides walked the narrow, hilly terrain leading
up to the mountain, which made me conclude that they frequented the
area. Obviously the place where we took off is one of the barangays
under the influence of or controlled by the NPA.
Some fifteen minutes later, we walked past a
makeshift hut where two or three men stood guard. Probably members
of Ka Roger’s security detail. But I did not see them brandishing
guns.
A few moments later we arrived at a hut that
looked like home to a family. It was past four in the afternoon. At
the entrance of the hut stood a stove carved out of a mountain mole.
It was dark inside the hut. An unlighted oil lamp stood on a long
table that can easily seat 10 diners.
Again, there were no men in the house. Only
women. Three women and a girl, maybe 15 years old or younger. They
were all smiles when they saw us. They must have said something to
welcome us but I did not hear it. I was so tired and exhausted from
the brief mountain walk. Besides, I was busy trying to observe the
place.
Fearsome
Some five minutes later, Ka Roger emerged. A
worn-out baseball cap drooped over his eyes, and he had a mobile
phone and reading glasses hanging loose around his neck and a bolo
tucked around his waist. Surprise, surprise. He was not even
carrying a gun! Must have been staged, I thought. You know. A PR
ploy of sorts, I told myself. What better way to introduce yourself
to your guests than to surprise them.
So, this is the fearsome Ka Roger, I said to
myself. He did not look menacing enough. Didn’t look tough either.
But as they say, looks can be deceiving. This man is certainly no
pushover.
High on the list of “most-wanted” by the
government, Ka Roger didn’t seem bothered that a military camp was
some kilometers away. He exuded confidence. He had an answer to
almost every question you put across to him. You may not agree with
him but you’ve got to give him an A for sincerity. Call him a
terrorist, an extortionist or whatever, but he believes in what the
NPA is fighting for. He impresses me as a purist; an ideologue.
(Continued tomorrow)
Part 2 |Part
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