MLQ's "Hello Jorge" legacy
By Rudy Arizala
If today, there is a "Hello, Garci," which tends to change the course of our political history, sixty-four years ago today, one early December morning, there was a "Hello, Jorge" phone conversation which changed not only the political history of the Philippines, but also its economic and social conditions.
By Rudy Arizala
If today, there is a "Hello, Garci," which tends to change the course of our political history, sixty-four years ago today, one early December morning, there was a "Hello, Jorge" phone conversation which changed not only the political history of the Philippines, but also its economic and social conditions.
The following based or taken from the old, yellowing pages of a book, The Saga of Jose P. Laurel, (His Brother´s Keeper), by Teofilo del Castillo and Jose del Castillo published in 1949 by Associated Authors´Company, Manila and Delaware, would help refresh our memory.
UP IN BAGUIO, THE DAWN WAS ON THE TIPS of the pine trees. And the cool night air was bedded down in the mountain dells and on the knolls, and the mansion of President Quezon was still a blur in the enveloping darkness. Inside a telephone rang. . . .
The moment Quezon heard the sound of his secretary´s voice, he knew that this was such a call. "Hello, Jorge, what is on?" Quezon snapped.
"Mr. President," Vargas voice came from across the plains of Luzon and up the mountains, "Mr. President, the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor! Early this morning. . ."
"What!" Quezon pressed the phone close to his ear. "Jorge, you´re crazy! War may have been declared but the Japanese would never dare attack Hawaii. . .
"General MacArthur´s office just called me, Mr. President, and confirmed the United Press and Associated Press reports over the phone. Other American territories in the Pacific are being bombed, too." x x x x x
Briefly and swiftly Quezon gave Vargas a stream of instructions over the telephone he was still holding in his hand. Vargas must summon the members of his cabinet at once&emdash;in Marikina&emdash;they must all be there before noon the next day. Vargas must be sure to get hold of Teofilo Sison, who was the Secretary of National Defense. Besides, Sison was also the chairman of the Civilian Emergency Administration, and Quezon was thinking of what to do with the civilian population; of the problems of food for a long siege. The civilian morale must be kept up at all cost. x x xx
Why such emergency cabinet meeting in Marikina? It was simply because under the shady mango trees and bamboo thickets and old orchards, Manuel L. Quezon constructed one of his country estates. There in Marikina the days are clear and cool and the air fresh which are good for his health. But where is Marikina? In Chapter 4 of the Castillo book &endash; "The Parting Words: Stand at Your Posts" the authors wrote:
MARIKINA IS A AN HOUR´S RIDE FROM MANILA. It is a charming small town on a rolling hill that falls gently down a vast expanse of tropical plain where fields and farms cut golden patches out of the lush green of the countryside. A bubbling stream runs through the heart of the town and flows among the groves and farms. Marikina is, however, better known throughout the country for the wooden sandals and the slippers manufactured in its shops. Moreover, the surrounding country is covered with haciendas and gardens. x x x xx
Because of the imminent danger from air-raids, the meetings were often held under a mango tree. From the first day, faithful to their duty all the members of the president´s official family came to the meetings. x x x x x
Meantime, that morning under the big mango tree in Marikina, the members of the cabinet sat down to tackle another batch of urgent business. They had disposed of some emergency measures of food problems, of three-months advance salaries for government employees as one way of paring down the bulk of currency the government had intended to salvage. Quezon had reorganized his cabinet, shuffling posts and making his secretaries take added duties which those going away with him to Bataan were leaving. He was leaving to the Japs a cabinet of his own design and under instructions from him. x x x x x
When Secretary Jose P. Laurel expressed his desire to go with Pres. Quezon to Corregidor, according to Castillo´s book, Quezon scowled, his eyes blazed, "No, Laurel," said he. "No. You and the members of the cabinet should stay behind. You must remain at your posts to carry on the work and to protect the people. But do not take the oath of allegiance. You may cooperate &endash; short of taking the oath of allegiance to Japan."
What happened next after that historic meeting under the mango tree in Marikina is history. Suffice to mention it here that after the "Hello, Jorge" phone conversation between President Manuel L. Quezon and his Executive Secretary Jorge Vargas that December morning about the breaking out of the war in the Pacific, Quezon recalled what he told his audience on 15 December 1941, during the anniversary of the Philippine Commonwealth. He said:
"I pray that our people may be spared the horrors of war, but if it comes to us, I shall welcome it for two reasons: first, that we may show the people of the United States that we are loyal to them; second, that you may learn to suffer, and, if needs be, to die. For many years now of material prosperity which has come to our wealthy families under American sovereignty, you have become soft&emdash;you think only of dancing and cabarets. But only those who know how to suffer and die in order to be free are worthy of that freedom."
Quezon was not disappointed with the attitude and behavior of his people during the war. For the Filipinos showed acts of loyalty, bravery, sacrifice and heroism from the early days of the war up to the last stand in Bataan and Corregidor. Thousands of Filipinos died in the field of battle as well as in concentration camps. After the surrender of Bataan and Corregidor, many continued to resist the Japanese occupation forces through guerrilla warfare until the arrival of Allied Liberation Forces in 1944 &endash; 45.
The "Hello, Jorge" phone conversation one early December morning sixty-four years ago left a legacy of loyalty, faithfulness to democracy; and willingness to suffer and die for if necessary.
Posted Dec. 31, 2005