Wanted in Maguindanao: Hassle-less elections

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

2013 campaign posters in Buluan (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

BULUAN, MAGUINDANAO–The rural air is occasionally broken by blaring music. It’s different from the familiar amplified chants calling Muslims to prayer five times a day. The sources of the music: roving rented mini-pickups packed with speakers and dressed in campaign posters.

One vehicle plays a down-tempo, pop tune repeating the nickname of a provincial candidate as a chorus. Another passes by moments later, blasting a rap-style song in Maguindanaoan extolling the virtues of another candidate.

It’s my second election coverage here in Maguindanao. With me are the same reporter, a few same crew mates, and some newbies to this election hotspot. Some elements have changed in three years, the sound of campaign jingles one pleasant surprise.

Our set up at the Maguindanao provincial satellite office in Buluan (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Our haunts have changed too, mirroring the changes in local politics. Since we arrived, we’ve set up our live point outside the Rajah Buayan Silongan Peace Center here in Buluan–the de facto capitol building which was not around in 2010.

Last election, we were stationed outside the provincial complex in capital Shariff Aguak. The capitol there is still imposing but unoccupied. The compound’s sole tenants are a brigade of soldiers.

We merely pass by Shariff Aguak on our two-to-three-hour trips from Cotabato City. The standout mansions of the Ampatuans still loom near the capitol, yet even this bailiwick of the clan seems less hushed than it looked before. More residents roam the town center, and the campaign posters are more varied.

When senators get unhappy

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

What the media expected was a little hell-raising at the confirmation of newly-appointed Interior secretary Mar Roxas and his replacement at the transportation department, Sec. Jose Emilio Abaya.

Yet that fizzled out as quickly as it came up.

Sen. Miriam Santiago raised her hand when Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile asked if there were any objections to Roxas’ confirmation.

Santiago later told reporters it was merely palabra de honor. She wanted to “wake up Malacañang” and had threatened to veto Cabinet members who failed to attend her investigation of interior undersecretary Rico Puno.

But after a quick break that followed her statement, Santiago withdrew her objection–to applause. Clapping is prohibited at the Senate plenary, but no one bothered then.

Click on the pic to watch the video. (Shot by Marco Gutierrez, ABS-CBN News)

Roxas, a former senator, was a close colleague of Santiago’s (“Even his wife [Korina Sanchez] is very close to me,” she added). She didn’t want someone “needed in public service” to end up as “collateral damage” in a battle of hers.

Objection was futile anyway, Santiago said, since President Aquino could issue an ad interim appointment on September 22 if the Senate goes on break without confirming Roxas.

All’s well that ends well, and Abaya got confirmed as well.

But as the Senate reporters settled down to file their Roxas-Santiago stories, it turned out that wasn’t the last controversy of the day.

Our technical crew got a call that Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV would deliver a privilege speech at the plenary session. ANC planned to air it live.

The newsrooms had already been watching out for Trillanes. He was banner story in the Inquirer that day for holding backdoor negotiations with China on its territorial dispute with the Philippines over the Scarborough or Panatag Shoal. When ANC called him about it, he confirmed it.

So after Trillanes’ office put out word of his speech, the best guess was something about China.

Instead, he began with a familiar line that wasn’t his: “Gusto ko happy ka (I want you to be happy)”, the Senate President’s campaign slogan.

The real deal, Trillanes said, was “Kung gusto ko, isasagasa ko. Kung ayaw ko, uupuan ko. (If I want it, I’ll rush it. If I don’t, I’ll delay it).”

Sec. Jesse returns home

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

“Salamat, Jesse Robredo” coverage log

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

NAGA CITY, CAMARINES SUR—“Are you sure this is it?”

The Manila-based media came looking for a mansion inside a gated subdivision. What they found was an apartment compound just a few turns from one of Naga City’s main roads.

A vacant lot of trees and untouched greenery fronted the compound. The neighbors were gated houses you would find in middle-class areas.

There was no tell-tale marker. No posters, and aside from a Couples For Christ tile, no name-plates.

Beyond the police checkpoints (likely put up during the previous nights) and waiting tents nearby, no one would think it the residence of a VIP.

The attention around it still made clear this was indeed where Interior Secretary Jesse Robredo, pride of Naga, lived.

A three-floor brick-and-granite building dominated the compound—the Robredos’ unit.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Outside its door, bars enclosed a small receiving area where pictures of Sec. Jess hung. Here and there getting awards from four Philippine presidents, one a blessing from Pope John Paul II, and the biggest, a group pose with President Benigno Aquino.

Five adjacent flats faced the building–houses the family was renting out.

Our news team arrived there two days after Robredo’s plane crashed off the coast of Masbate City.

We were to keep tabs on the secretary’s family and the supporters that poured in as they waited for news.

Juan Ponce Enrile and history

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

*Read behind-the-scenes stories of the Corona trial verdict day here.

Click to watch highlights of the Corona trial verdict. (ABS-CBN / TV Patrol footage)

He was not a witness, but many dubbed him the “star” of the trial that ultimately removed Chief Justice Renato Corona from office.

Many followers of the impeachment proceedings found a renewed appreciation for Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile: firm, resolute, and–at 88 years old–mentally agile in his role as presiding judge of the court.

He insisted on the judges’ impartiality in dealing with the trial panels, hearing testimonies, and accepting evidence. He strove to maintain order when senator-judges raised hell or participants appeared to act with disrespect.

While he cast the final vote convicting Corona, his justification speech equally scored weaknesses in the prosecution and defense. More so, he bared the pros and cons resulting from either decision his court would make.

Enrile pounding his gavel would become one of the trial’s enduring images.

With high trust ratings, it appeared he was the one who gained the most goodwill and political capital from the trial–even compared to President Aquino, who had a big stake in the impeachment drive.

But JPE, also known more recently as Manong Johnny, was not always publicly seen as this lamp of wisdom and direction.

Political phoenix

Few politicians are widely recognized by their acronyms as JPE. A lawyer, bureaucrat, and lawmaker, the only thing missing was had he become President of the Philippines. And for a time, Enrile was in a position to possibly become that.

Enrile and Ramos in 1986. (Courtesy of ABS-CBN News & Current Affairs’ EDSA 25 documentary)

School history books written in the recent 20 years have cited him as one of the sparks that ignited the bloodless first EDSA revolt.

And it is to his and then Gen. Fidel V. Ramos’ withdrawal of support for Pres. Ferdinand Marcos in 1986 that some align his presiding of the Corona impeachment trial—both preludes to the downfall of public figures.

The high points of JPE’s public life are a string of reviled decisions and redemptive actions. Falls and rises.

Political phoenixes are no stranger to the Philippines. But Enrile’s career spanning half a century is perhaps the biggest testament to this.

Erap’s big move

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

(Shot by Gani Taoatao, ABS-CBN News; c/o morefunmaker.com)

Manga Avenue rarely sees the bustle of the nearby residential areas in Santa Mesa, Manila.

While the buildings along this street are bounded by big gates and high walls, it isn’t part of any subdivision. There are few stores close by, and the traffic it usually gets comes from passing tricycles.

The quiet at Manga Ave. may soon change with the transfer of its newest and likely most illustrious resident.

If the house-move last May 9 gave any hint, hubbub won’t be stranger to this place in the next year. Former President Joseph Estrada has brought the noise of Philippine politics to his new territory.

As early as 4 a.m., the one-lane street was already choked outside the gate marked Number 589. News vans parked a pace away were culprits. Their portable generators injected a steady hum to the silence, as TV crews prepped for advancer live shots in the morning shows.

By mid-morning, around a hundred people in white, orange, and green shirts had gathered, holding up the traffic.

The prints on the shirts gave their aim: “Welcome to Manila Mayor Erap”. Others read “Manila ♥ Erap,” “Erap ♥ Manila.”

By then, Erap had left his Polk Street house in Greenhills and was driving to Santa Mesa in his pimped out “Jeep ni Erap.”

Impending showdown

This day would answer if Estrada would follow through on his next reported conquest—this time for the top seat of the City of Manila.

Riding beside him was Manila Vice Mayor Isko Moreno, who with other members of the city council had transferred allegiance to Estrada from his former ally, incumbent Mayor Alfredo Lim.

Estrada had hinted recently of challenging Lim in the 2013 midterm elections. The only deterrent to his qualification for running was his registered address, famously in San Juan.

The transfer convoy, which included three trucks laden with wood cabinets and hard-plastic containers, all timed to the year before the polls.

(Shots by Anjo Bagaoisan)

At Manga Avenue, a brass band, complete with dancing girls, had marched in to perk up the welcoming throng. Ice cream and corn vendors had also stopped by.

Placards were passed around. Their messages ranged from the familiar slogans–“Erap para sa mahirap”–to the shout-outs–“Bawal ang Dirty sa Maynila”. “Dirty” an aside against Mayor Lim, nicknamed “Dirty Harry” for his hard-line stance against crime in the 1990s.

Erap had his own action star moniker: Asiong Salonga, after the mid-20th century local gang leader he portrayed on the silver screen.

The impending showdown in Manila has now been lent ready references to action movies.

He’s back: Trailing a returning senator

3 of these tarps welcome people entering the Senate on March 28. (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Every Monday, the Senate of the Philippines clears the first lane of parking on its front for the 8 o’clock flag-raising.

Broadcast vans waiting to set up for the day’s sessions would have to wait till the employees finish the ceremony. Soon as they leave, it’s a race for prime parking slots.

But on this particular Monday, March 28, no session was afoot.

In fact, the Senate had already begun its session break. Apparently, this center stage of the news for a week now was not yet done for.

Only a discreet plane arrival the previous Saturday brought us all here. Many assumed it would happen any time after the Court of Appeals said no more legal barriers blocked this man’s showing up.

So, Sen. Panfilo Lacson, missing in action for over a year, was finally returning to his office and breaking his verbal silence with the press.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

With their tripods, enterprising cameramen had reserved frontal spots opposite the conference table in the Senate’s Laurel room where we expected Lacson to speak.

Our tech team fixed up a control booth at the adjacent Pecson room, from where we would feed the press conference raw.

A van and a separate cam transmitted the live reports of our reporter Lynda Jumilla.

Judging by the setups and the reporters converging there, the media seemed out to get from Lacson one year’s worth of unsaid soundbites.

Pagharap ni PNoy sa Pinoy

Si Pang. Aquino sa Manila Hotel, Hunyo 24, bago tanggapin ang "Outstanding Manilan" award.

Sunud-sunod ang panggulat sa bayan ni Pangulong Noynoy Aquino. Marahil dahil nasanay tayo sa nakaraang pamahalaan, bawat gawin nyang bago ay malaki nang bagay.

Ang pag-iwas sa wangwang. Ang pagkaipit sa trapik. Ang pagiging takda sa oras. Ang magiliw na pakikitungo sa media. At ang SONA sa wika ng lahat.

Pinapakita lang ng pangulo na kailangan nyang mapalapit sa mamamayan. Siyam na taon silang maituturing na nawalay sa gobyernong nasangkot sa mga kontrobersyang hindi nito pinagtuunang isagot.

Kaya naman, bawat pagkakataong makasagot, sinasamantala ngayon.

Strictly politics*

Branded mineral water bottles from your favorite candidate

Before the campaign period for the national elections, there was the pre-campaign period. Emphasis on “campaign.”

And why not? Philippine politics seems to be an eternal operation to stay in power or go higher.

Thus you find the prevalent tarps of smiling faces greeting every occasion from the fiesta to the funeral. Plus the same strain of posters with their forced acronyms and subliminal messages.

Plus these events perfectly timed for the season.

And thus we all know that this person is vying for this position before he or she even says it or files papers at the Comelec.

Only a few weeks before the filing deadline did we see prospective candidates affirm or dismiss speculations on their running.

Including a former president bent to continue his unfinished business.

The ride all started with the passing of the late great Cory Aquino that changed the political destinies of some. Soon the leading was left off, the nonviable now probable. Swiftly the tides turned and the rabbits jumped fences.

I’ve often mused about how the many considerable choices for 2010 came about due to who ran and won in 2004. Potential presidents are only now coming into the fray.

Today I still can’t pick among my top four bets.

Our field operations teams met this preview of campaign 2010 by covering the proclamations live.

One of the biggest was by the country's biggest political party, with its already-determined presidential bet.

Those minute to hour-long airings mask the early call times, ocular inspections and intensive coordination needed for a crew of ten to twenty to set up and air. Here you learn the power of anticipating programs and making connections.

And amid the hustle and bustle for Halalan 2010, we also see the twilight days of a president and her government cramming to claim history’s verdict.

And cramming, as well, for another run of office.

It was in one such coverage that I smiled at President Arroyo and got to shake her hand–not in Malacanang, but in one of the few areas I guess she was at her proudest best.

We could not air live her second final economic update in a Makati hotel. I could only check on our reporters and on the event.

There I found a childhood friend with the Foreign Affairs Department on duty as an usher.

PGMA just a few feet away.

Soon the Presidential entourage walked out of the forum hall on the red carpet. My friend and the ushers lined up to greet them. Unsure what to do, I stood beside her at the end.

As President Arroyo shook hands with the ushers, I knew she would end with me before they proceeded to the photo op area.

Somehow we were not both sure how to greet each other, I wearing a red collared shirt and jeans in a place where dark corporate attires ruled.

Our hands and gazes awkwardly, silently met, and then left off.

Telling the encounter to my workmates, one asked why I was cordial when I came from a school supposedly angry with the President.

I answered, “Wala namang personalan (It’s nothing personal).”

Much as our politics should be.

See all shots from the topsy-turvy turns in politics taken during the daily grind at this pinoyjourn Multiply album.

*Apologies, of course, to the long-running ANC public affairs show.