Carmen “Chitang” Guerrero Nakpil would probably be the most amused at how her rather trenchant observation that Filipinos have spent “300 years in the convent and 50 years in Hollywood” has become the most quoted of her lines, even if it is rarely attributed to her.
No one else could have summed up our rather turbulent, ironic history than her, for while she had no formal degree in history, she was an astute scholar and observer. Coming from the Guerrero-Nakpil clans of Ermita, she was steeped in the study of history, a history and identity embedded in her bones, born of her ancestry, and lived through her own turbulent life and loves.
I met her only a few times in the course of my career, and it was indeed an honor to know that she recognized my byline. For Chitang Nakpil was a voice and a persona that accompanied me through my journey through journalism. With Kerima Polotan, she embodied the best of Filipino word craft, regardless of gender, employing a pen honed to steely sharpness and an awareness chockful of irony and wit, humor and archness.
I recall one of her magazine columns regarding an encounter between a bus full of Russian visitors (then still a communist state) and young Filipino activists who raised fists and placards against the “US-Marcos regime,” little knowing that the white people they were denouncing were officials of a system they were (or hoped to be) championing. She mined all the humor and irony of the situation, taking no sides but amused at the incomprehension on both sides.
Sympathies to those she left behind, but especially to her daughters, Gemma and Lisa, who are both, in their own ways, worthy heirs of their mother’s legacy.
I am glad that Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV has declared that he will file plunder charges against former tourism secretary Wanda Tulfo Teo and her brothers over charges that they had taken advantage of former secretary Teo’s position to ink a P60-million advertisement contract between the government and the brother’s media firm.
Trillanes was doubtless reacting to a posting by Ben Tulfo that those expecting them to return the money to government could wait until “your eyes turn white” (translation of a Filipino saying meaning an impossibly long wait). Instead, Tulfo challenged critics and institutions—such as the Commission on Audit, which uncovered the anomalous transaction, and the Office of the Ombudsman—to file charges against them.
Earlier, the Tulfos laid the blame on their sister’s lawyer, Ferdinand Topacio, who they said had made the offer
of return without their consent. In response, Topacio said the matter was now “a matter of conscience.”
Well, let’s see if the Tulfo siblings still have a conscience. Instead of returning the money, even on installment, and thereby settling aside the controversy for the moment, they are instead roiling the waters anew. And given that Teo was spotted among the entourage who journeyed to Malaysia with the President to watch Manny Pacquiao’s boxing match, it seems we haven’t seen the last of the Tulfos in our affairs of state.
“Chismis” is how observers describe the revived charges against former party-list representatives Satur Ocampo, Liza Maza and Rafael Mariano alleging that they had a hand in the killing of a peasant leader.
The timing of the revived charges comes just days after the ascension of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo as Speaker, under whose presidency the three proved to be particularly outspoken critics and protest leaders.
Over a decade has passed since two regional trial courts in Guimba and Palayan in Nueva Ecija found “no probable cause” to try the three, although only the judge in Guimba dismissed the case. Twelve years ago, the judge in Palayan chided state prosecutors for being “overly eager” to file the case and secure a warrant of arrest against the accused.
Today, the same judge has ruled there was “probable cause,” leading the advocates of the three former representatives to argue that it “is clearly not a legal battle, but a political one.” Indeed—and why now, and why the sudden revival?
rdavid@inquirer.com.ph