Almonte’s endless crusade

The first fellow Cabinet member I invited to a private lunch meeting, after President Fidel V. Ramos appointed me as his socioeconomic planning secretary in 1992, was not another member of the economic team. It was national security adviser Jose T. Almonte. I felt it important at the outset to establish good rapport with someone well-known to have the president’s ear. More than that, I was aware of Almonte’s strong convictions on dismantling the oligarchic hold on the Philippine economy by cartels and monopolies. A key focus of my research in the academe prior to entering government had been the coconut industry and how the monopoly therein was undermining it. Thus I felt that Almonte and I had something in common to talk about.

Inviting him to lunch felt audacious and awkward on my part then. At 39, I was the youngest in the new Ramos Cabinet, largely unknown to the president and the rest of the team. (That Ramos would trust me, in spite of that, to form part of his crucial economic team continues to amaze me to this day.) And there I was, asking out to lunch one of the most seasoned and arguably the most formidable among Ramos’ inner circle. To many, JoAl (the nickname by which he was known) was a mysterious, even sinister, character who evoked suspicion in some, perhaps fear or intimidation in others.

It was thus with some trepidation that I walked into this lunch with him even though it was my own idea to begin with. But the feeling quickly vanished as I found myself surprisingly at ease talking to this man who was old enough to be my father, finding him to share the same ideals that had earlier led me to agree, albeit reluctantly, to join government. He was to state later in “Endless Journey: A Memoir”: “Little did I know that Ciel, to begin with, was a reformist at heart” (p. 226). And so began a quiet partnership for reform between the two members of the Ramos Cabinet who shared the common second title of director general—he of the National Security Council, I of the National Economic and Development Authority (Neda).

JoAl and his small multisectoral group of reformists assembled for him by my godbrother Serafin “Apin” Talisayon (my late father was wedding sponsor to him and wife Vivien) had by then crafted a strategic development vision called Philippines 2000. Built on the two thrusts of global competitiveness and people empowerment, it became the compass for the Ramos administration’s official development blueprint, enshrined in the Medium Term Philippine Development Plan (MTPDP) 1992-1998. In his memoir, Almonte recalls his consternation over how Philippines 2000 met with initial skepticism, even resistance, from my technical people at Neda then. They were understandably protective of more than a year of hard work and wide consultations that had already gone into the then nearly complete MTPDP, whose formulation I had shepherded since the final months of the Cory Aquino administration for my boss Cayetano Paderanga Jr., as his deputy director general at the time.

I understood where JoAl and his reformist group were coming from, and saw no necessary incompatibility with the MTPDP. Indeed, they turned out to be a perfect fit. The marriage of Philippines 2000 and MTPDP summed up nicely into the twin thrusts of global competitiveness and people empowerment, pursued through the five D’s of democratization, decentralization, devolution, deregulation, and sustainable development. This, in a nutshell, was the simple (but challenging) framework of the Ramos reform agenda, the bones of which were provided by Almonte’s Philippines 2000, which also became our slogan and battle cry; Neda’s MTPDP in turn provided the flesh.

Underlying all these was JoAl’s almost single-minded crusade to diffuse the undue market power of prominent monopolies and cartels in our economy. He first trained his guns on telecommunications and domestic civil aviation; the positive results are now history. As “Endless Journey” details, his efforts were relentless, and his methods skillful and resourceful, if at times devious—but only to match the deviousness employed by the very forces he was confronting. He and I knew then that the country critically needed a competition (antitrust) law, if we are to contain the perpetuation and abuse of economic dominance by a favored few, and its consequent drag on market dynamism and broad-based economic growth. “President Ramos had asked Congress not just once but thrice… to pass an antitrust law to carry on the structural reforms,” he laments. “That the bill fell by the wayside reflects the character of the representatives our people voted into office” (p. 247). Now, two decades later, we are still pushing to have such law in place, and Congress seems finally poised to deliver.

I am proud to have worked with JoAl—erstwhile soldier, intelligence and security chief, visionary, strategist, nation builder and reform crusader—and even prouder to be able to call him a friend. Here is a rarity of a man whose public service had never been driven by a personal agenda, for he had none. People close to him know that his agenda had always been the pursuit of a better nation for the benefit of all Filipinos. Those among us who know and admire him are welcome to the launch of his “Endless Journey: A Memoir” at 3 p.m. tomorrow at Club Filipino in Greenhills. May this memoir, put to life by the pen of respected journalist Marites Vitug, shed light on general/secretary Jose T. Almonte’s true nature, intellect and character, and thus help him claim his proper place in our nation’s history.

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