Friday, December 12, 2008

Gringo Honasan — and the dream lives on

E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL

Gringo Honasan — and the dream lives on
Sunday, 04 29, 2007

In my son Kenneth’s room is an enlarged photograph (by Don Jaime Zobel de Ayala) of Gringo with the rest of his military retinue, in full battle gear, during the 1986 Edsa revolt. On the picture, Gringo had inscribed: “Our country should be above everything. People are but temporary things. Let’s live and die fighting for our country. That is our dream that will never die.”

In the pursuit of that dream, Gregorio Ballesteros Honasan, a.k.a. Gringo, had in his PMA days organized a cadre of officers that swelled to a group known as RAM; had led attempts at coup d’etat or insurrection, or rebellion, depending on whoever is speaking in reference to a particular time frame; had become a romanticized fugitive of sorts, who was often “sighted” in places all over the country but never really, purposely apprehended by those out looking for him; had been elected as a senator of the Republic; and became a hunted fugitive again in the aftermath of the Oakwood incident, until the serendipitous arm of his caught up with him.

In a trice, the previous paragraph is a précis of the many tales that have swirled around the persona of Gringo ever since he burst into the national consciousness as the young, dashing colonel who led his military colleagues in providing close-in security for the leaders of the 1986 Edsa revolt. He was the hero, and around him have been spun tales of gallantry and derring-do and triumph against all odds.

But none of these tales can measure up to the latest that surrounds Gringo as the campaign for the May 2007 elections draws to a near close. Here is a man — languishing in jail not too long ago, unable to campaign, his thoughts unpublished, his voice unheard, defying everyone who has written him off — once more marching off to what his detractors fear as another personal victory of that “irrascible ex-colonel,” as one disgruntled officer in the military describes him.

The description is ill-placed — or perhaps the poor officer was thinking of the word “incorrigible.” Well, that’s another illustration of the oxymoron “military intelligence.” But I digress…

If anything, Gringo is all but irrascible these days. In fact, he had never been irrascible. Gringo does not harbor — or if he does, he does not exhibit it — any grudge against anyone of his erstwhile partners in the Opposition who had snubbed his contributions to the cause they once shared, and are now bent on pulling him out of the winning circle of senators: “I don’t see personalities; only issues. Instead of focusing on programs, we are attacking each other as if there were no tomorrow, as if winning elections is dependent on how vicious we have become. I will win on the basis of issues, not because I attacked or defended personalities.”

The former soldier-turned senator, whom friends and enemies alike used to describe as “prone to being a law unto himself,” is now an even-tempered individual who says, “We must put closure to every single issue confronted by previous administrations, not through hate but through the law.”

Too bad that Fernando Poe, Jr. was cheated out of victory in 2004, and FPJ has since died. Gringo would have pursued his dream with FPJ. Now with the prospect of a six-year term in the Senate, Gringo will pursue that dream with the many who share with him the vision he describes in his National Recovery Program: “There is nothing in the National Recovery Program that can persuade anyone to attack the duly constituted authorities and seize or diminish state power. It is simply a prescription for change for every right-minded Filipino.”

For starters, Gringo himself describes the change he has undergone: “I have grown. I am changing in my attitudes. It is not so wrong that I can change. I will dedicate the rest of my life toward pursuing the twin goals of opening people’s eyes and initiating change through peaceful and legal means.”

Gringo is now a changed man, a man at peace with himself, espousing family values of unity, coherence, and fidelity: “I can say this without batting an eyelash, how I was healed spiritually. Do I look different or sound different? Well, maybe that’s part of Divine Will. When you are in confinement, you come to terms with your own mortality.”

We are tempted to add: Aside from coming to terms with his own mortality, Gringo has also come to terms with a newly embraced morality, a personal code by which he could go by. Gringo, the independent candidate for senator, has opted to run the gauntlet all by his lonesome. He has distanced himself from the platform of hate espoused by one camp and refused to be co-opted by the other camp who, by the very plenitude of its resources and present grip on power, could very well boost his chances of going back to the Senate.

Gringo need not run to one or the other for support. After all, he did so well in the run-up to the elections while incarcerated, how much more can he move forward and higher, now that he is out on bail? All he needs now is to run to the people for support.

Twenty years after Gringo had given that photograph to me, the picture now has attained the patina of age. The main subject of the picture has changed, too. The thick, jet black hair of the young man in the picture is now a thatch of silver on a much older man. As he himself admits, he looks and sounds different now. Yet as he speaks, we know that one thing has remained unchanged despite the ravages of time on the once-boyish face, the pillage of age on the once-luxuriant moustache.

The dream has not died. Let us welcome Gringo back to the Senate to keep it alive.

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