Following are two first-person-accounts of last Thursday’s standoff. One is mine and the other is by Azhel Hachero, Malaya’s reporter covering Makati.
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GMA news report on trip to Bicutan
By Ellen Tordesillas
Thursday morning, the Makati City hall premises were swarming with military personnel. Aside from the usual security escorts of the Magdalo officers, there were those from Camp Capinpin in Tanay who brought down Brig. Gen. Danny Lim, who was to testify on the agreement forged between Malaca?ang’s representatives and the Oakwood mutineers in July 2003.
Arriving late at the Magdalo hearing last Thursday, the sala of Judge Oscar Pimentel of branch 147, Makati Regional Trial Court, was standing room only. I recognized prominent guests such as former Vice President Teofisto Guingona, Bishop Antonio Tobias, former UP president Francisco “Dodong” Nemenzo. A number of the officers were standing on the aisle. I remember Lt. Ashley Acedillo and Lt (s.g.) Eugene Gonzales.
Marine Capt. Nick Faeldon who had to attend a court martial hearing earlier in the morning came later and also stood near the door.
Except for Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV, who was in black shirt, all the accused were in combat uniform, like their guards. It was difficult to distinguish the guards from the guarded.
There was a five-minute break when Lim and Trillanes were escorted to the men’s room. When the hearing resumed it was the prosecution’s turn to cross-examine Lim. Suddenly, Lt (s.g.) James Layug, who wore a black scarf, stood up, went to Lim and declared, “Walang gagalaw (Nobody move).” He held Lim by the arm and led him quickly out of the courtroom. Everybody was stunned. Lim’s counsel Vicente Verdadero stood up and asked, “What’s happening? Where are they bringing my client?”
Pimentel said, “Who’s that officer? Bring him back here with the witness.”
Everything moved fast. Magdalo officers loaded Lim and Trillanes to the elevator while pushing media out of the lift.
The rest of the officers, with their guards, and media commandeered another lift.
Once all had met up at the ground floor, Lim and Trillanes, followed by their guards, marched on J.P. Rizal to Makati avenue. Unaware of what was happening, people along J.P. Rizal were waving at Trillanes who asked them to join him and Lim against Gloria Arroyo for “a new life.”
In that more than 30-minute march to Manila Peninsula, I didn’t notice a single policeman.
A single shot that shattered the glass door of the Makati Avenue entrance convinced the Manila Pen guards that it was useless resisting the marchers who had a more serious agenda that day.
It took some hours before someone from the government in the person of Metro Manila police chief Geary Barias came, but he only got to the lobby. He was told he was not welcome. Lim and Trillanes had no intention to negotiate. He tried again and again to go up. On the third time, he was jeered by Trillanes’ supporters.
This must have really pricked Barias’ ego because there were those who saw him jab the senator in the chest using his elbow when Trillanes and Lim were arrested. Reports from insiders in the CIDG, where the rebel officers are detained, said that Trillanes received more blows from PNP officers.
Senior Supt. Jaime Calungsod, whose PMA class had adopted Lim, a West Pointer, was allowed into the Rizal Room on the second floor, which the officers used as command post, but stayed only for a few minutes. Calungsod said nothing to the media.
Trillanes came down later and looked for the hotel manager to correct media reports that hotel guests were being held hostage.
At about 2 p.m. someone delivered the arrest warrant issued by Judge Pimentel against a number of officers for contempt of court. Lt. Armand Pontejos who was manning the locked glass door refused to receive the warrant which the messenger was trying insert through the door. I asked the messenger to hold the document against the glass door while media copied the contents.
After the 3 p.m. deadline set by the government for them to surrender, tension was building up. Apparently, the expected massive civilian and military support didn’t come. TV reported that the PNP’s Special Action Force and Army troops were preparing for an assault. Rebel officers would constantly look out the glass window to scour for possible snipers.
Reporters were getting text messages from editors and friends of the government order to vacate the hotel because they were going to force their way in to arrest the rebels. Initially, we were about a hundred journalists covering the standoff from inside the hotel, limited to the corridor leading to the Rizal Room.
When the warning came, one by one some reporters left. Only a little over 20 of us stayed put. We talked among ourselves and agreed to link arms just in case we would be forcibly removed. We also gathered and moistened table napkins to counter the effects of tear gas. Some kind souls in the hotel gave us face towels. But those were not enough, so we borrowed pocket knives and started cutting the table cloths. We promised among ourselves that we would pay Manila Pen if they billed us for the table cloth which we used as gas masks.
Shortly before 5 p.m., we heard gunshots. The rebels remained calm. They let us into Rizal Room. We could feel the building shake as the armored personnel carrier repeatedly slammed the hotel door. Tear gas wafted through the room.
By then Lim and Trillanes announced to us that to save lives, they were leaving the hotel. “Like soldiers, we are going face this,” Trillanes said. Lim couldn’t hide his disappointment over the support that never came. “Dissent without action is consent,” he said.
We got information that snipers would fire at Lim and Trillanes once they came out of the hotel. “Let it be,” the two said.
Fr. Robert Reyes said a prayer.
We arranged ourselves in the room. TV camera crew and photographers positioned themselves near the door. Right behind them were Lim and Trillanes and other members of media. Bishop Julio Labayen and others were in the last row.
When the fully armed, fully masked SAF pushed the door open aiming their high-powered firearms at us, they were greeted by TV cameras as we shouted “Media kami.” They went to another room but finding it empty came back. They wanted to bring us out but we complained about stinging tear gas. One SAF member said, “Okay na, okay na.” One of us said, “,wholesale sport shoes;Why don’t you remove your mask. Let’s see if you can say, ‘ok’. ANC’s Ces Drilon went on air to appeal to the authorities to stop the tear gassing so we could all go down.
After a while, the SAF came back. They first grabbed Trillanes and Lim. Then they herded the rest of us out. They ordered us to raise our hands. Most people ignored the order reasoning out, “We are not surrenderers.”
As we went down the stairs, we were told to stay put because we would be brought to Camp Bagong Diwa in Bicutan for “processing.” We all raised a howl and they explained that it’s standard procedure in a crime investigation. Then we were asked who are members of the military in civilian clothes. About two or three stood and they were hauled away. Then they asked, “Who are members of ABB?” referring to the Alex Boncayao communist hit squad. Nobody stood up.
Then members of media were told move to the right side. They started handcuffing non-journalists. SAF’s Gen. Santiago was apologetic as he was supervising the hand-tying of Nemenzo. “I’m sorry, sir. I know that you have lectured me against suppression of human rights but I just have to do this.” Nemenzo kept silent.
Then it was the media’s turn to be handcuffed.. We all protested. “We didn’t commit any crime!”, “Why, has Gloria Arroyo declared martial law?” CIDG NCR chief Asher Dolina relented but not after he had handcuffed two TV crew members of ABS-CBN.
It was past 7 p.m. when we boarded the bus for Camp Bagong Diwa. We were given packed dinner. We had to help those who were handcuffed for them to drink their water. I didn’t eat even if I had only crackers (courtesy of Magdalo officers) for lunch. The whole day of tension had sapped my appetite.
It was almost 9 p.m. when we got to the covered court in Bicutan, which was the “processing” center. Lim and Trillanes were already there. We were told to get off the bus 10 at a time. Some were fingerprinted and told to undergo a drug test.
I refused to give more than what’s in my press ID card.
It was 10:30 p.m. when we boarded the bus out of Camp Bagong Diwa.
What a day.
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BY ASHZEL HACHERO
IT was just a regular day in my nearly four years of covering the Makati beat. But I have never imagined that I would be the story, or even become “one of the suspects” in the story.
I arrived about 7:30 a.m. Thursday at the press office on the third floor of Makati City Hall and saw soldiers already positioned in and around City Hall, where the regional trial courts including the sala of Judge Oscar Pimentel are located.
At 8:20 a.m. I proceeded to the 14th floor where Pimentel’s sala is located and engaged one of the prosecutors, Amanda Felipe, in light banter while waiting for the court to open.
It was then that a local TV crew got into an argument with soldiers who asked them to remove their cameras in the hallway where they had been positioned for the arriving Magdalo group.
Vicente Verdadero, counsel of former Scout Ranger commander Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim, entered the fray and asked the soldiers in a loud voice: “Bakit, may order ba kayo kay Judge? This is a civilian court. We are not in a court martial.”
In another premonition that it was not going to be an ordinary hearing we, the media, Magdalo, defense lawyers and prosecutors, could not enter the courtroom as courtroom staff who had the key to the room came late.
The testimony of Lim proceeded smoothly until after a bathroom break. Then the commotion started. I was at the left side of the room talking with the wife of detained Marine Col. Ariel Querubin when suddenly I heard the word “Walang gagalaw.”
When I turned around, I saw Lt. (s.g.) James Layug accompanying Lim towards the door followed by Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV and the rest of the Magdalo soldiers.
My reporter’s instinct told me something was going to happen so I followed the group to the elevator where Trillanes shouted, “Ito na ang huling pagkakataon para sa pagbabago.”
As I tried along with other reporters to get inside the elevator, we were pushed by Magdalo member Lt. (s.g.) Arturo Pascua.
Layug and Cesario Gonzalez, another Magdalo officer, shouted to the escorts mostly from the Navy and the Air Force: “Walang gagalaw. Di tayo magkakaaway, dapat nga sumama na kayo sa amin.”
I raced downstairs from the 14th floor. When I reached the ground floor, Trillanes’ group was already outside, accompanied by several men carrying M-16s and M-14s, but to my best recollection it was the first time that I saw those guys.
The escorts were just milling around, nobody trying to make a move to stop the group as it proceeded along J.P. Rizal up to Makati avenue walking amid the traffic and the pouring rain while bystanders, motorists and even occupants of high-rise buildings poured out and said, “,Chanel Sunglasses;Si Trillanes suportado namin yan.”
From Makati avenue we proceeded toward Ayala avenue and my mind was asking, “are we going to the Oakwood Hotel (now Ascott) which the group seized in 2003?
But at Ayala and Makati avenues, we stopped at the Manila Peninsula Hotel entrance and proceeded to the stairs where one of the hotel’s security officers tried to stop us but eventually gave in.
It was at this juncture that the hotel’s glass door was broken, apparently hit unintentionally by a camera tripod and we went directly to the hotel’s 2nd floor gallery where the group held a press conference with Lim reading a statement calling on the President to resign.
Around 2:05 p.m., I saw Metro Manila police chief, Director Geary Barias, waiting at the lobby to meet with the rebel officers, telling the guests to immediately leave the hotel and issuing a 3 p.m. deadline for the Magdalo soldiers or face arrest.
But instead of negotiations, Barias was escorted out by members of Magdalo who were carrying high-powered riffles. They were believed to have already been discharged from service.
As Barias exited the hotel, civilian supporters of the Magdalo cheered and shouted, which I think made Barias suspect that it was members of the media who were yelling that got his goat.
Inside the hotel, we tried our best to contact our editors but we had a hard time since most of us left our equipment outside.
We were just left with Internet and TV access that was limited to five laptops and two small television monitors used by the television stations.
Most of the telephones are on the ground floor, which made it too risky to use. So we were forced to wait in turn for a single telephone on the second floor of the hotel.
At around 4:30 p.m., we saw police commandos and soldiers take positions outside the hotel premises in preparation for the assault to arrest the group of Lim and Trillanes.
Upon hearing the first few warning shots outside the hotel, Marine Capt. Gary Alejano told us: “‘Wag kayong matakot. Nananakot lang ‘yan.”
It was Alejano who repeatedly told us not to leave because something “big” would happen later in the day.
Deciding it would not be safe sitting around while an armored personnel carrier and heavily armed members of the PNP-Special Action Force were about to launch the assault, I retreated to the back portion of the second floor where I saw fellow media men frantically tearing apart a table cloth as masks against the tear gas.
The members of the Magdalo asked us to gather inside the Rizal boardroom to avoid the toxic scent of the tear gas. As the tear gas engulfed the lobby and the mezzanine of the hotel, I tried desperately to cut a small piece of the hotel curtain to use as mask while crouching low beside armed Magdalo soldiers, rifles pointed at the main entrance. Several moments later, Trillanes and other members of the Magdalo joined us inside the boardroom saying that they will have to surrender to avoid bloodshed.
As Trillanes, Lim, and the members of the media were vacating the boardroom, some members of the SAF team made fun of us shouting, “Itaas ang kamay! Itaas ninyo kamay ninyo!” knowing that fumes of the teargas was overwhelming.
I and around 50 other media men were shocked when we learned from television that we were to be brought to the National Capital Regional Police Office headquarters in Camp Bagong Diwa, in Bicutan.
We were ordered to sit on the steps of the stairs as the authorities figured out what to do with us.
There were frenzied reactions from our group when we learned that we would be handcuffed. CIDG head Asher Dolina tried but failed to convince us that it’s just a “procedure” in a crime investigation.
Only a collective refusal from the mediamen made him agree not to have us handcuffed.
Marching in single file, we stuck together to avoid any harassment from the police before we were led outside to a waiting passenger bus, with more policemen guarding us.
Outside, I saw several reporters already in the bus, hands restrained by plastic cuffs.
I and about six other broadsheet reporters were returned inside the hotel because the first bus was already full. Half an hour later, we were made to embark on an air-conditioned bus borrowed from the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority. It was about 8 p.m.
Escorted by a police car with SWAT cops, we were driven to the NCRPO headquarters in Camp Bagong Diwa, to be “greeted” by many more uniformed policemen, a SOCO team and medical personnel, and more CIDG investigators and a smiling Geary Barias, director of the NCRPO.
In groups of threes, we were first ordered to sit down in a table with three police investigators,fashion handbags, each one asking for an ID card and some personal information such as civil status, home addresses.
But when one of the investigators asked for my present address and provincial address, I refused saying I couldn’t give it without the presence of a lawyer.
We jokingly begged for food, as we had not eaten since 9 a.m. None was offered to us.
The final process involved us signing an entry into a police blotter, with the investigator still assuring us that it’s just for “record purposes.”
And after what it seemed like an eternity, we were cleared and released. The MMDA bus used to ferry us to the camp transported us back to Ayala avenue, with our stomachs still grumbling.