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Bombs fell. Bullets sprayed. Sirens peeled. It was December 8, 1941.
In Baguio
City, President Manuel L. Quezon has summoned Tomas Confesor to a vital
conference. From, his quarters in Pines View Hotel, Tomas Confesor saw
the Japanese bombers and Zeros attack their chosen targets:
Camp
John Hay and the Philippine Military Academy.
This
was it! From the rabble of the excited radio, the people who flocked in
the lobby learned of the devastating assaults on Pearl Harbor. The
frenzy of war gripped the air and the populace stirred in uncertainty.
Tomas
Confesor checked and found out that the conference was cancelled. He
decided to motor back to Manila.
What to
do? His home was not Manila but Iloilo. He was a civilian not a
soldier, a former congressman who had ably served his district for three
terms, a delegate to the 1935 Constitutional Convention, and a former
governor of Iloilo, subsequently designated by Quezon to head the
National Cooperatives Administration. Now that war had broken, what was
he to do?
During
the drive back, memories of yesterday kept flashing back.
He
remembered his youth, his father Julian Confesor, his mother, Prospera
Valenzuela, his brothers and sister. As a young boy … they lived in
simple poverty. But times were also exciting because even in far away
Iloilo, the ferment of revolution in 1896 touched the hearts of leaders
like Quintin Salas in Dumangas, and soon Ilongos joined the revolution
of Bonifacio against Spain. Tomas was barely ten but he saw blood flow,
and even after the defeat of Spain, when America turned against the
Filipino, he saw the horrors of war close hand. His own father had
joined the fight. Eventually the Americans captured him and sent him to
the gallows. Tomas Confesor was only eleven years old and it left a
painful memory, a priceless lesson even then -- that a man must fight and
die if need be for the things he believed in.
From
his car window, Confesor saw trucks of USAFFE soldiers: Where were they
going? Where would the first battle be? How long would the fight be?
What must be done?
He
reminisced again. Cabatuan, Iloilo was a small municipio, and when the
Americans finally triumphed at the turn of the century, they
strengthened the school system. Tomas and his brother Valentin used to
hike more than twenty kilometers to school and home, often with nothing
for lunch except bananas. New words. New language. New ideas.
Reading, 'Ritting, 'Rithmetic. He liked it and thought it was worth the
hike. The wounds of war were healing, and young Tomas learned many
things in school. He liked education.
How
excited he stood when he graduated from Iloilo High, and when he was
offered a teaching job as a maestro, he readily accepted. The poor boy
from Cabatuan was receiving paychecks for helping boys learn the lessons
in schoolbooks. From his teaching job, he was able to widen his
horizons.
He
liked to read a lot. Not only the classics and history, but the bible
as well. It also made him realize that he needed to learn more. So he
applied to become a pensionado to get higher education abroad.
He succeeded. He left for the United States in 1910, a skinny student
from the rural areas but willing to learn or take on anyone. He
attended the University of
California and the University
of Chicago where he earned the degree of Bachelor of Philosophy, major
in Economics.
He
touched base with his countrymen by running a newsletter the Filipino
Student, was a good debater and writer, building the tools of a future
politician.
Confesor smiled as the car drove through Pampanga. The war seemed
remote as they passed through picturesque rural areas. And only as they
neared Ft.
Stotsenberg, later renamed Clark Field, did the scurrying of
Phil-American Forces show signs of war…
His
mind wandered to 1912 when he was welcomed back to Cabatuan, Iloilo.
This time as a learned graduate from abroad given appointment as a
supervising teacher of several towns. His new position endeared him to
the people, and without knowing it he was already winning their hearts
each time he listened to their problems, each time he visited and ate with
them, each time he would take up their cause.
Then
the University of the Philippines appointed him instructor of
Economics. He taught. He debated. He wrote -- becoming business
editor of Varsity News, working with men like Conrado Benitez and Carlos
P. Romulo. He also joined an organization within the Philippine
Columbian Association, Ang Bagong Katipunan, where the seeds of
nationalism were watered by a common desire for independence amongst
members like Miguel Cuaderno, Jose Abad Santos, Francisco Delgado,
Maximo Kalaw, Camilo Osias, and Victor Buencamino.
The car
carrying Confesor now entered Bulacan. He gazed out the window.
Peaceful countryside again. Simple, like Iloilo. Why was this rustic
place to be shattered by war? Why Japan? Japan represented the Mikado,
the Monarch, the Empire. The people there had discipline but no
freedom. The Philippines was an emerging republic, a Commonwealth
dedicated to freedom. Confesor was a man who always enjoyed a good
fight -- for the right causes.
He
blinked and closed his eyes. He had fought many battles in the past,
not military but political. Yet did not political battles also require
guts? Drive? Stamina? Organization? The battlefields lay in the
precincts and the ammunition sprang from ballots. In a sense, it was
like a war. One had to fight, and strive to win people. One had to
stand by what he believed in -- and do battle in order to win.
He
recalled he first fight. He faces a rich haciendero, Maximino Jalandoni.
At that time, the landlords dominated.
They
had lands which meant kasamas. They had influence which meant suasions
in key places. But Confesor stood undaunted. He was poor but had many
friends and followers. No haciendas but many former students. No
influence amongst the cacique but plenty of drive and determination. He
was the forerunner of Ramon Magsaysay. He campaigned from barrio to
barrio, house to house, person to person. He spoke the homespun kiniray-a
and told them "I am one of you. No money but we have each other, and
together we can beat this rich opponent of ours who does not even know
life in the barrio".
He won
resoundingly. Inside the halls of Congress, he fought for his
constituents, rising to denounce abuses, to defend the poor who had no
means to defend themselves.
In 1923, people had to pay the cedula tax. Even those without jobs or
incomes had to pay. Pay two pesos or go to jail. Two pesos meant a big
amount then and a laborer in
Iloilo
named Entrenserado refused to pay. When threatened with jail, he
gathered some followers and defied the authorities with arms. Governor
General Wood, a military man who brooked no disobedience was mistakenly
informed that the Entrenserado defiance represented simple banditry. He
sent a naval ship to bombard Jaro.
Tomas
Confesor intervened. He informed Wood that this was no banditry but the
reaction unjust imposition of colonial cedula tax that represented an
unfair tax system of the Spaniards. He volunteered to meet Entrenserado
himself to pacify the incipient revolt and aver bloodshed. He
succeeded. He met Entrenserado alone, without arms, convinced him to
desist even as he vowed to work for the abolition of the cedula. The
naval ship left Jaro, and what could have resulted in an ugly naval
bombardment did not take place. The people of Iloilo rejoiced.
They
were now nearing Manila, and Confesor continued to reminisce. He served
three terms in Congress, consistently fighting for causes he believed
in. He fought for independence and aligned himself with Manuel L.
Quezon. He fought against the move to separate Mindanao and Sulu from
the Philippines as proposed in the Bacon Bill, charging America with
rank discrimination and a distorted desire to keep only the better
developed portions of the country for herself. He fought against
junkets, urging that the monies be channeled to agriculture instead. He
even fought Manuel L. Quezon when Quezon opposed his move to grant more
autonomy to the barrios telling Quezon that a strong centralized
executive could lead to dictatorship and stifle people's initiatives.
He became known as the stormy petrel of Iloilo.
He
authored vital legislation not only for his district but also for the
nation i.e., the Cooperatives Marketing Law. It was in recognition of
his concerns for Commerce that he was appointed, after winning his third
term, Director of the Bureau of Commerce and Industry.
Tomas
Confesor sighed as the car took the final turn to Manila. As Director
of Commerce and Industry, he fought for more production, more
diversified products, and more processing of raw materials. But the
colonial trend swelled to oppose his efforts. The US would buy sugar.
Never mind processing to chocolates or candy. The US would do that for
us. Never mind diversifying. The US was a steady market. Confesor
protested. He spoke out openly against an unbalanced trade where we
supply raw materials in exchange for finished goods. Some listened. A
few took heed. But the majority did not. The big sugar barons
preferred the easy way.
Confesor recalled his frustrations. After his stint as Director of
Commerce and Industry, his frustrations became compounded when he went
back to Iloilo to run for Congress again. This time he lost. He lost
to a former opponent, Atanacio Ampig. He was for Quezon; Ampig was for
Osmeña. Quezon and Osmeña were vying for leadership in their quest for
independence. Osmeña and his block succeeded in bringing home the Hare
Haws Cutting bill which Quezon and his group opposed to secure another
Independence Bill. Quezon led the antis, Osmeña headed the pros.
Confesor was caught in the crossfire -- and the Osmeña being a Visayan,
regionalistic sway swung to Osmeña candidate Atanacio Ampig. Confesor
lost and at that time the future looked dim.
But
only for a while. After Quezon finally got the approval of the
Tydings-MacDuffie Act, the emerging nation called for a Constitutional
Convention to forge a new Constitution. Confesor ran to represent his
province. He won.
He
served with guts, and with the independence of mind of a delegate
beholden only to national interest. He faced Claro M. Recto in debates
on accountability, tangled with Vicente Francisco over land reform, and
eventually succeeded in sponsoring vital provisions in the new
Constitution.
In
1937, Confesor returned to Iloilo and ran for Governor. He won. People
realized that win or lose, Tomas Confesor did not stop fighting for
causes he believed in.
His
first term was to dispense power justly on all, rich or poor. The
business tycoons of Iloilo had supported him in the first gubernatorial
fight, and so they expected him to protect and promote their vested
interests. But Tomas Confesor did not. Instead of restricting business
permits and licenses to a favored few, he opened up business to others.
This angered the rich tycoons of Iloilo, and in the next elections they
opposed him strongly. This was in 1941 -- when most of the wealthy
patrons and money class of Iloilo fought Tomas Confesor.
But
Confesor did not stand alone. Again he went to the common folk. He
campaigned from barrio to barrio, house to house, explaining in his
homespun kiniray-a in mass meetings why the rich were against him and
why the poor like them were for him. He won the election with the
biggest majority since witnessed.
The car carrying Tomas Confesor was now entering
Manila.
The city seemed in ferment. The sighs were all there: soldiers'
movements, trucks convoying troops, people crowding around radios,
listening to news -- feeling the jitters and war fever.
Confesor directed the chauffeur to proceed to Manila Hotel, his
temporary quarters in the city. His main concern was the safety of his
family in Iloilo. He wired them to evacuate to a safer place in the
interior. He contacted his office and instructed them what to do, what
records to destroy so that they do not fall into enemy hands. He
brooded, consulted key officials, brooded some more concerning his
future course of action.
The
next few days saw an escalation of the war. Japanese planes by the
hundreds bombed the American bases and Phil-American airfields like
Zablan and Batangas. There were spectacular dogfights as brave Filipino
led by Captain Jesus Villamor rose to challenge the air marauders.
There were meetings, hectic conferences, Congress resolutions of support
for the allied cause, and plans. Then Lingayen was invaded.
Consequently Manila was declared an open city; USAFFE moved its forces
to Bataan and
Corregidor.
When
the Japanese forces entered Manila on January 2, 1942, Confesor was
still in the city. The dreaded Kempei-tai detained all residents of
that Hotel to ferret out American and enemy "aliens". Fortunately they
did not discover Confesor's identity as a high official of government.
After four days of detention, he was released.
From
then on, Tomas Confesor decided never again to become captive. He left
the hotel, went into hiding, one night at his sister's place in Sta.
Ana, next in Novaliches at the residence of a friend, then in downtown
Manila with another associate. He could not forever go on hiding,
however, and when news reached him that Japanese authorities were
looking for him, he decided to go home to Iloilo. He could not go by
ordinary transport, for most ships had discontinued travel, and no
planes were available. He decided to take a batel, a big sailboat with
riggers on both sides. In doing so, he had his secretary arrange for
other Ilonggos wishing to go home to ride with him. The voyage was
dangerous, not only because of the rough seas, but also because of
possible capture by the Japanese.
Confesor remained firm. He could not go to Bataan. He would go back to
Iloilo instead. Because of the perils of the sea, he
thought only a handful would brave the call. Fifty-four showed up, and
they started out by land on an old hired bus which took them to Batangas
on February 28, 1942. Confesor was incognito to the other passengers
except to his secretary, and when the Japanese sentries stopped the
vehicle, they only laid casual eyes on the passengers and flagged them
on.
From Taal, Batangas, they boarded the batel "Agcauan". Even as they began the
journey, they could hear explosions from Calapan,
Mindoro where the
Japanese were landing troops. A Japanese plane circled causing
momentary tension. Would the plane attack, or direct them back to
shore? Fortunately the plane left. On their first day at sea, there
was practically no wind. The second day however challenged them with
very strong winds, so strong many retched and got sick. The winds
lashed and the batel rocked viciously, causing injuries to some. A few
women fainted.
But they were still lucky and the strong winds slowly died away in the
night. They continued their journey through Odiongan
Strait, past
Tablas, Romblon, finally reaching Buruanga, Capiz on March 3.
At that time Bataan and Corregidor were still
gallantly holding on, and the rest of the Visayas and Mindanao remained
free. The officials of Iloilo were informed, and
immediately transports were made available to carry Tomas Confesor and
party back to Iloilo.
The native son had returned.
In the interim, Manuel L. Quezon decided to transfer the Philippine
Commonwealth to exile abroad. He had to leave Corregidor and proceed to
the United States via
Mindanao and Australia. He
passed by Negros. Learning of Confesor's dramatic return to Iloilo,
President Quezon called him to meet him in Bacolod. The two warriors
greeted each other warmly and Quezon instructed Confesor to resume his
position as governor of Iloilo.
Quezon told him "You are the Chief Executive of the province of
Iloilo and you should exercise your powers as such. Under the
circumstances, you are my representative. You should use your common
sense and sound judgment, bearing always in mind public interest and
public welfare. I cannot give you specific instruction more than this,
because times are uncertain and within 24 hours the situation may change
for the better or for the worse."
Then
the two men said goodbye. Confesor would carry this instruction in his
heart -- for even then he knew that public interest demanded that he
resist the enemy and continue against their abuses. Even then he knew
he would never serve Japan, never abandon his province, never surrender.
He went back to Iloilo. And when the Japanese invaded, found the
Capitol empty. Confesor had transferred personnel and property to the
mountains in Leon. He became a civilian guerrilla governor. He kept
the civil government intact, organized a disciplined police force,
insured the supply of food for the
island
of Panay, and began a newsletter to tell the people the truth.
The
Japanese wanted Confesor, not as prisoner but as their collaborator.
They had made inquiries and came to the conclusion that the best man to
swing the Ilongos to their side was Confesor. They wanted him for that
in Manila, when he was still there hiding. Now that they occupied
Iloilo, they had hoped to harness his services there. They doubly
disappointed. Not only was he gone -- he was also reported to have
organized the civilian resistance against them.
The
Japanese had to settle for Dr. Fermin Caram, whom they appointed
governor of Iloilo.
But as
the crisis of war deepened, and as the resistance against the Japanese
led by Confesor strengthened, the Japanese themselves devised all means
possible to lure him out of the mountains, make him abandon resistance
and join the puppet civil government.
Dr.
Fermin Caram and Tomas Confesor were old friends. They had served in
the government together, had been colleagues in the 1935 Constitutional
Convention. So they corresponded. But crisis brings out the truth in
men. It was a time of trial, and while Dr. Caram chose to join the
civil government under Japan Confesor chose to fight them form the
mountains of Leon.
The
basic difference between the two began to show. In January of 1943, Dr.
Caram wrote Confesor a vital letter asking him to surrender because (1)
there was no ignominy in surrender and that (2) the people were
suffering and they needed him to help bring about peace and tranquility
to Iloilo. It took more than a month before Tomas Confesor received
that letter.
He
responded. Not just an ordinary answer but a stirring comprehensive
historic response that electrified the resistance in Iloilo and all
those who read it. Quezon lauded Confesor. MacArthur congratulated
him. Even Roosevelt expressed gratification.
When he
received the letter of Dr. Caram, Confesor was moving about in the
mountains. From time to time he was stricken by fever, but he did not
allow personal inconvenience to deter him from duties. He responded to
the letter on February 20, 1943:
He
wrote:
You
were decidedly wrong when you told me that there is no ignominy in
surrender. That may be true in the case of soldiers who were corralled
by the enemy consisting of superior force with no way of escape
whatsoever. For when they gave themselves up, they did not repudiate any
principle of good government and the philosophy of life which inspired
them to fight heroically and valiantly -- to use your own words. Should
I surrender, however, and with me the people, by your invitation and
assurance of guarantee to my life, my family and those who follow me, I
would be surrendering something more precious than life itself; the
principles of democracy and justice and the honor and dignity of our
people.
I wish
to thank you for reminding me what General Bell wrote to Mabini that
"only the possibility of success is the sole justification of war and as
soon as that possibility disappears, civilization demands that for the
sake of humanity the vanquished should submit to the victor." In calling
my attention to the above content of the letter of General Bell, you
make the affirmation thereby that there is no "possibility of success"
on the part of America and the Allies to defeat Japan and colleagues.
Here again you are evidently wrong. You people who have surrendered to
the Japanese do not know of any news that you are ignorant of what is
going on. For your information and guidance, let me tell you that Japan
is digging her grave deeper and deeper everyday in New Guinea. In China
and in Burma she is on the run and is losing extensive territories which
she formerly conquered. In Europe, Germany is in flight pursued by the
Russians. In Africa, Tripoli and Tunisia have fallen into the hands of
the Allies. Everyday the cities of Italy are being bombed and smashed to
pieces. The Italians will soon demand separate peace. By June, next, the
Philippines will be redeemed from Japan, definitely. What are you going
to do next, revise your convictions again? Thank you, once more, for
reminding me of the words of Genera Bell to Mabini. They serve to
fortify my convictions more that ever, for the possibility of success of
America and the Allies over the Axis is as clear as the day…
I hope
I have made myself clear enough to make you understand my position. I
will not surrender as long as I stand on my feet…
It
pains me to read your letter saying that you and I one time nursed
devotedly identical convictions on democracy and liberty, but that you
have to revise your own for the sake of "peace and tranquility." How can
you honestly and truthfully say that you may enjoy peace and tranquility
when you are unfaithful to your own convictions? Do you mean to tell me
that you revised your convictions because you believed that they were
not righteous or because you considered your personal conveniences over
and above that of the Filipino people? You may have read, I am sure, the
story of Lincoln who held firmly to the conviction secession of the
Southern States from the Union was WRONG. Consequently, when he became
President and the Southern States seceded, he did not hesitate to use
force to compel them to remain in the Union. The immediate result was
civil war that involve the country into the throes of a terrible armed
conflict that, according to the reliable historians, produced
proportionately more loss of lives, hardships and miseries than the
first World War. The sufferings of the people of the South were
terrible, but the Union was saved and America has become thereby one of
the strongest and respected nations on the surface of the earth. If
Lincoln had revised his convictions and sacrificed them for the sake of
peace and tranquility as you did, a fatal catastrophe would have
befallen the people of America.
With
this lesson of history clearly before us, I prefer to follow Lincoln's
example than yours and your fellow puppets. In other worlds, I sternly
refuse to revise my own convictions for the sake of temporary and false
promises of peace and tranquility.
I
noted that you emphasized in your letter only peace and the tranquility
of our people. I do not know whether by omission or intentionally, you
failed to refer in any way to the honor and dignity of our race. You
seem to have forgotten these noble sentiments already, despite the fact
that Japan has hardly been a year in our country. It appears clearly
evident, therefore, that there is a great difference between the manner
you and me are trying to lead our people during these trying days. You
and your fellow puppets are trying to give them peace and tranquility by
destroying their honor and dignity, without suffering or, if there is
any, the least possible. On the other hand, we endeavor to inspire them
to face difficulties and undergo any sacrifice to uphold the government
thereby holding up high and immaculate their honor and dignity at the
same time. In other words, you are trying to drive our people to peace
and tranquility on the road of IGNOMINY, to borrow your own language.
Peace and tranquility are easy to achieve if you choose the easy way
but, in that case, however, you would be living beneath the dignity of
human being. You would be reducing our people as a result thereof to
the status of a dumb animal like the good carabao which lives in peace
and tranquility because it is properly fed by its owner. Is that the
peace and tranquility you are talking about -- that of a carabao? Would
this not be clearly ignominious?
Tomas
Confesor was guerilla governor of the resistance. Yet he faced many
challenges not only from the Japanese but ironically from the military
guerilla forces under Macario Peralta.
It is
to the credit of both men that they strove to patch up difference by
delineating responsibilities. But war breeds more abuses. Confesor
fought these abuses. When army officers ransacked certain homes in
Dingle for food and women, he responded by sending police units to stop
them. When they repeated the same offenses in Lambunao, he wrote a
scathing letter to Col. Macario Peralta himself, denouncing the abuses.
He
said:
Might
is never right. The interests of individual army men are never superior
to the rights of citizens even in time of war. The soldier does not have
any right any day to maltreat a teniente del barrio or ronda
just because he was not given camote to eat the night previous, because
the teniente del barrio or ronda are not hired men of the
Philippine samurai.
I
stand by these precepts and will oppose any wicked proposition to the
contrary.
When
liberation came, President Sergio Osmeña appointed Confesor Secretary of
the Interior. Subsequently, he became senator of the land. As senator,
he continued to fight. He vigorously opposed parity – that unwarranted
imposition by the United States for US citizens to exploit the nation’s
natural resources in the same manner as Philippine firms and citizens.
He refused to take it as the high price exacted for supposed
rehabilitation. He fought for the farmers, in the wake of the brewing
Hukbalahap uprising, and warned the nation to adopt radical reforms
in agriculture before it is too late. He fought corruption already
rearing its ugly head in the early years of independence: the surplus
scandals, Tambobong, and overpriced purchases in agriculture.
Tomas
Confesor carried on his duties gallantly, but because of failing health,
mainly the result of the pain and agony of war and having to serve as a
guerilla governor holding office in the mountains, he had to go abroad
for treatment.
It was abroad where Tomas Confesor again stood to fight personal
affront. He had decided to live in a rising subdivision in
San Francisco but was denied access because he was classified as colored. He
protested. He fought the injustice, and somehow word got to no less than
the White House that Tomas Confesor was being denied the right to live
in that subdivision because of racial prejudice. Without Confesor’s
knowing it, the White House intervened and sent word to the subdivision
owners: “The man you are denying access to is a war hero. He is a brave
Filipino who served as guerilla governor during the dark days of the
occupation in the
Philippines. He has gallantly fought for freedom, and
deserves admission.”
When
the message got to the subdivision, the entire residents rose as one not
only to apologize but also to welcome Tomas Confesor into their
neighborhood. A gallant Filipino we can all be proud of.
In
1951, Tomas Confesor passed away, but he lives on in the heart of the
nation. He was teacher, congressman, governor, guerilla, senator,
fighter for freedom, and a gallant Filipino.
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