Covering a ‘coup’: Lost in Fort Bonifacio

By Booma B. Cruz

SO WHAT really happened in Fort Bonifacio on Feb. 26?

For those watching on television, it was like an unfolding drama.  But for journalists who went to the military camp that day, it was more like a comedy gone awry.

From start to finish, the six-hour standoff in Fort Bonifacio was one confusing affair. Even media was lost during—and after—the coverage.

It was a Sunday afternoon and more than a dozen reporters from both local and foreign media were inside the Marines compound for a press conference. Maj. Gen. Renato Miranda, Marine commandant, had just been relieved and replaced by Maj. Gen. Nelson Allaga.

A statement from Miranda and the Marines was supposed to be issued, but inside the camp no one apparently knew of the press conference. The relieved commandant was inside the headquarters.

After almost an hour of waiting, some reporters hurriedly got into their cars and left. Sensing that something was afoot, the rest of the pack followed. The convoy stopped near the chapel, where an agitated Col. Ariel Querubin was being mobbed by an equally agitated media.

Bloodless protest
“Iba ’yung grupo namin. We want a bloodless show of protest. I am with General Miranda. So I’m calling everybody to please protect us. Anytime now, baka hulihin kami!” shouted Querubin, a Medal of Valor awardee, as reporters jockeyed for position and shoved their cell phones, radios, and cameras to his face.

What Querubin’s group was and who were with him in his protest were not clear. Radio and TV immediately proceeded to have a live coverage of the unfolding event.

On the sideline, absorbing everything that was happening was Querubin’s wife, Ma. Flor. Anxiety written all over her face, she politely declined interviews.

More reporters arrived and swarmed around Querubin who talked non-stop.  A barrage of questions was repeatedly asked; the same answers were given (“We want a bloodless protest… I am with General Miranda… Sabi niya, Ariel pag na-relieve ka, I must go with you. Sabi ko rin sa kanya, pag masyado na ako pabigat sa iyo, pag na-relieve ka, kailangan samahan din kita.”)

The colonel said he was going to the headquarters to talk to General Miranda. As if on cue, someone shouted: “Human chain, human chain!” A group of men wearing shirts with Rebolusyonaryong Alyansang Makabayan (RAM) stickers immediately surrounded the colonel as he walked to the headquarters. Still throwing questions, media followed, effectively providing several more layers of protection for Querubin.

At the main headquarters grounds, Querubin was met by Allaga who said he was now in command. Reporters, the colonel’s human shield, and other kibitzers crowded the two officers. The crowed started cheering, drowning the conversation between Allaga and Querubin. The new commandant invited Querubin inside the headquarters for a talk but the colonel was pulled away by his bodyguards.

Asked by reporters what was going on, an exasperated Allaga said, “Kaya nga pinakikiusapang mag-usap, e ang gulo n’yo.”

‘Join the people’
As Querubin was being pulled away, his wife hugged and pleaded with Allaga: “Please join the people, join the country, sir!” The commandant moved away from Ma. Flor.

From inside the headquarters, a tall and visibly irritated officer went out. He approached Querubin. Again the mob pushed and shoved to hear what the two officers were talking about. Not much was said. Breathing heavily, the officer walked away. Querubin’s wife ran after him and repeated what she earlier told to Allaga: “Please side with the people. The Filipinos, fight for the Filipinos!” The officer ignored her.

Meanwhile, a contingent of armed Marines marched toward the headquarters. A magazine reporter whispered: “Ayan na ang magdi-disperse sa atin.”

The marching Marines were met by the tall officer who continued to rant and rave while ignoring all media queries. The contingent of armed Marines fell into formation in front of the headquarters.

Facing the Marines, the officer said, “Walang Marines na mag-aaway ng kapwa n’ya sundalo! Ginagamit lang tayo!”

Smelling blood, reporters asked, “Sino ang gumagamit sa inyo?”

No answer.

The officer paced back and forth as reporters followed him. At one point, he stopped and blurted, “Binabastos na tayo!”

“Sino ang bumabastos sa inyo?” the media horde interjected.

Still no answer.

“Who is he? What’s the name of the officer?” reporters asked one another. Someone answered: Lt. Col. Archie Segumalian, head of the Marines’ second battalion. (The following day, two newspapers got the officer’s name wrong.)

Opportunity
After talking to his men, Segumalian went back to the headquarters but was met by Allaga at the entrance. He saluted and said: “Marines kami, sir. Hindi kami sumasalungat kung ano ang iutos ninyo. Hindi ako sumasalungat sa inyo. Pinapakita ko lang na masama ang loob namin kasi Marines tayo, sir. You are my commandant, sir, pina-pakita ko lang ang sama ng loob ko, sir.”

As the confusing drama was unfolding, three tanks rolled in front of the headquarters. Tension heightened. On whose side were the soldiers and tanks? Again, no answer.

There was no letup in the interview of Querubin who was always surrounded by instant supporters. Like a father awaiting the delivery of his first child, he tirelessly paced the ground. Reporters followed him. Like Segumalian, he also talked to the assembled Marines: “Pag di natin na-seize itong opportu-nity na ito, magdi-disintegrate tayo.”

In another breath, Querubin said: “After this, if we are united, we will not disintegrate. This is the time to unite and let us protect the people.”

The colonel told reporters that the soldiers had many grievances but nothing was being done.

Reporters who got tired of following Querubin around rested at the sidewalk but always fixed their gaze at the colonel who would sometimes enter the Marine commander’s lounge. At one point, the colonel went out of the lounge and said, “Hindi siya nag-resign kundi sinibak siya. Sinabihan niya na huwag niyong gawin ito kasi pag nagalaw niyo ang isang Marine, buong Marines mag-uunite, ito na ngayon.”

His words were open to all sorts of interpretation for the colonel was stingy with explanations.

The soldiers on the ground must have been getting tired. They were always on their toes—standing up and falling in formation every time officers approached them. During a lull, I asked a Marine sitting on the steps of the HQ lobby what was going on. He said, “Ewan ko po. Nabigla din kami, hindi pa nga kami kumakain ng tanghalian, eh.” It was already 5 p.m.

After what seemed like a tug of war, Querubin finally sat down with Allaga. The colonel wanted to enter the headquarters building, but people “guarding” him would not let him go. “Huwag, sir! Huwag, sir!” they shouted. After a lot of pushing and shoving, the colonel was pulled inside by uniformed soldiers.

Ay, bayan ko!
With Querubin inside the building, action continued outside on HQ grounds. Civilians trapped inside the camp began working on their cell phones. One was overheard saying, “What we need is people, mag-surround na kayo diyan.” Another said, “We need a lot of people. Sige, we’ve been calling.”

Outside the camp, the number of people who wanted to get in—members of media, politicians, movie stars, among them—started to swell. A dispersal unit from the Navy met them. As tension rose, a Marine captain approached the fence and shouted, “Paalisin n’yo nga sila!” He was referring to the Navy.

Querubin’s wife appealed to the dispersal unit: “Walang ginagawa ang tao, tapos sasaktan niyo? We need heroes, dapat pulis kayo ng tao… dapat protector kayo ng Filipino people!”

A woman inside the camp reminded the people outside to stay calm. She suggested they all sing, “Let there be peace on earth.” After the first line, everybody was just humming… apparently no knew the rest of the lyrics.

From among the crowd, someone suggested that they sing “Bayan Ko” instead. With clenched fists, the classic Filipino song identified with the protest movement was sung. Even Rep. Imee Marcos joined the singing.

With Querubin already inside the building, media was on heightened alert. From one side of the camp, reporters rushed toward a group of new faces. A reporter immediately pressed his radio: “May foreigner na dumating. Foreigner ito!”

Mobbed by reporters, the “foreigner” was asked by an excited reporter: “Sir, what’s the stand of the US embassy?” The man in the sports shirt gave a puzzled look.

Finally, another reporter recognized him. “Ah, Iñigo!” The man was not from US embassy after all. He was Iñigo Zobel, son of the late industrialist Enrique Zobel.

After a few more hours, Allaga came out of the building with Querubin beside him. He said: “We have made a decision. I am the acting commandant…Solid ang Philippine Marine Corps na organization. We will follow the chain of command, we will follow the constitution, we will follow the duly constituted authority.”

Several questions were asked at the same time, but the loudest query was, “Kay President ’yan? Up to President Arroyo?”

Allaga answered: “Hindi na namin level ’yun, hindi kami makikialam sa mga politicians, hindi kami makikialam, so ’yung magpapagamit kami, hindi kami mare-recruit o kung anu-ano sa utos nila.”

“What about General Senga?” was the follow-up question. Allaga countered: “Hindi kay General Senga, kay Vice Admiral Mayuga.”

Red wine and sixth sense
Question-and-answer time was immediately ended. Allaga told reporters everything had been settled. The general advised everyone to leave the camp. Querubin appeared to have swallowed his tongue. The two officers immediately went inside the headquarters.

“Tapos na ba?” I asked Ma. Flor.  The colonel’s stunned wife said: “Hindi, hindi ganyan si Ariel.”

Soldiers and the tanks started leaving. Reporters lingered a bit longer. Suddenly, a local politician from somewhere started talking to media: “You can see in the eyes of Colonel Querubin. Meron, eh, we will not abandon him, hihingi lang tayo ng paliwanag. Kelangan may closure… Tinawagan ang taongbayan tapos hindi. Ano ang dahilan kung bakit niya tayo tinawagan? Up to now, ayaw siyang pasalitain. Palagay ko may malalim na dahilan kung bakit hindi siya magsasalita.” He got a few seconds of media exposure.

Minutes later, an official of the Marines went out of the head-quarters and advised media to call it a day. Reporters bargained. Can we at least have a word from General Miranda? After a few minutes, reporters were told the general has agreed to accom-modate the request provided there are no cameras. It was a deal.

Inside, the relieved com-mandant was with another officer. On top of the desk were two glasses of red wine. Like Queru-bin, the relieved commandant refused to give details of what happened. He said he was surprised that his relief would trigger a standoff in the Marines.

Miranda said he asked to be relieved because there were insinuations that the leadership did not trust him anymore. Who made the insinuation and how, the general smiled and answered: “May sixth sense ako.”

It was time to go. Media cannot work with crystal balls.

Booma Cruz covered the Marine standoff for Probe.

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