Nice guys -those columnists, October 23, 1948

NICE GUYS—THOSE COLUMNISTS

October 23, 1948

By Jose A. Quirino

BULLETS are not half so effective as an irate columnist’s words,” declared my friend the other day. No truer words have been spoken. A columnist is always right. At least, that is what he maintains. No one is safe from his attack. From the beggar to the so-called –untouchable,” anyone can be the victim of the columnist’s ire. Never try to argue with one. You have no chance, brother. He always wins. When he mentions you in his “menu special,” better dismiss everything with a shrug of the shoulders and atone for whatever evil you have done. Or else… you know the rest.

In attempting to pen my humble opinion about some of the columnists, I pray to God that I’ll not be the victim of their “broadsides.”

Since the pre-war days when I began reading Dayrit’s “Good Morning Judge,” I have been an avid reader of columns by different columnists. Since then, noticing their courage in flinging biting invectives against crooked men and their dirty doings, I have maintained a high respect for their constructive criticism. (A fellow who does not have a columnist-phobia will develop it in time. They can make anybody quake in his boots.) However, columnists are sometimes more destructive than constructive, especially when they fly off the handle and give vent to their personal feelings. When they get too personal in their criticism, they become “columnists.” Alfonso Denoga has the right term for it: “character assassination.” This is where the woman-columnist holds the edge over the man. It is, perhaps, due to the feminine touch which she seldom loses, even at the height of her ire.

Among the popular columnists of today are the Manila Chronicle “bright boys.” There is Armando Malay with his famous “With a Grain of Salt.” He is the favorite columnist of letter-writers who have some complaints to make. In brief, concise sentences Malay takes up an issue with a grain of humor and winds up with a “coup de grace.” Once, for his vitriolic attacks against a senator whom he dubbed the solicitor general of “Hong Kong hams,” he was sued in court for libel, by the solon.

Then, there is Ernie del Rosario with his “Off the Beat.” A few times suspected as a Communist, he successfully showed in his column that he is not. He is not for overthrowing the government but for reforming it.

Lest I forget, there is Horacio (Teban) Borromeo of “On the Record” fame. When he wants to drive home a point he often writes, “I don’t say that Mr. So-and-so is a crook or that he did this and that, but, etc. etc.” Of course, he cannot be accused of libel for a thing he does not say. Ironically, however, he implies that Mr. So-and-so is a crook and exposes his shady deals through effective “double talk.” Smart guy, that Teban.

In the Manila Times we find Joaquin Roces and Maria Kalaw Katigbak. The former’s “lafterpiece” is “My Daily Bread” and the latter’s is “Checkpoint.” Both employ satire in their columns. Roces has created a fictitious character called “Maneng” who serves as his Charlie MacCarthy in his witty column.

The Star Reporter has the versatile Arsenic, I mean Arsenio Lacson. He must have been baptized “Arsenic because he spits venom against those who get his goat. “In This Corner” presented “Kid Arsenic” and “Speed Denoga” in the “slambangest” battle of the century. Denoga took up the cudgels for Ford Wilkins, editor of the Manila Bulletin. When Denoga wrote to Lacson, “As a louse will say to another louse, move over, bud,” Lacson came back telling Denoga to delouse himself with DDT. All of these things happened after Wilkins criticized action of some students who picketed the senators who went on a junket at the expense of the people. To date, Wilkins is still subjected occasionally to Arsenic’s stings. Although Lacson was silenced on the radio for his indictment of the corruptions which infested (still infest) our malodorous government, he continued his heavy barrage from a moving vehicle rigged with a microphone. “Here,” he hollered, “they cannot gag me.” Personally I admire Arsenic. He has really the guts to voice what is in his mind. Such guys die with their boots on.

Of course, there is Vicente del Fiero alias “del Fire” with his notes and footnotes. I often read that “del Fire” is fond of lechon. Well, who is not? When it comes to praising his own paper, the Star Reporter, you have got to hand it to del Fierro. Why, he will maintain every chance he has that the Reporter is the widest-read newspaper in the Philippines and that its quips are being quoted throughout the world. So there—hitch your wagon to the Star Reporter.

Columnists, in general, are very singular in their views. They often take great pains praising their paper, either directly or indirectly. That is the spirit. Keep up the good work, brother.

Speaking of accidents, one is reminded of a column, that of J. Padilla. (Please, your accidency, I don’t mean any harm.) Padilla is a master of sarcastic phrases. He can make a saint swear with his satirical bombardments. At times very personal, nevertheless, he atones for his subjective views with objective columns. If he gives you the once-over, you will surely cry “Uncle.”

Anent the Evening Herald, there is that fifth columnist, Jose Topacio Nueno. He is obviously sore at Mayor de la Fuente, as manifested in his daily antics. In almost every column of his, he takes to task the mayor. “Poor Maneng,” says “Canto Boy” of the Star Reporter, “he is only doing his rightful duties and he is being blamed for it.”

“Mr. President” by Aproniano Bores, editor of the Herald, deserves mention, too.

Pura-Santillan Castrence of the Manila Bulletin is one of the best women-columnists in the Philippines. “Woman Sense” is the title of her column.

There are columnists galore but it may take volumes if I touch on all of them. Suffice it to say that if ever you have an axe to grind against a columnist, better keep your trap shut. The moment you criticize them they will form a mob and like birds of prey, pounce upon you mercilessly. Look at Senator Confesor. When he stated that columnists are trying to run the affairs of the government, be became the constant target of indiscriminate attacks by them. When a columnist takes you to task, he is prosecutor, jury, and judge at the same time. So, beware lest these columnists (bless their immaculate souls) make a harlequin out of you.

Nice guys—these columnists.

Footnote to a slogan

October 15, 1955

Footnote to a slogan
by  Frederic S. Marquardt

ON AUGUST 10, 1943, in MacArthur’s headquarters in Brisbane, Australia, Courtney Whitney, then a colonel in charge of the Philippine section, sought permission to use the slogan, “I Shall Return—MacArthur,” on articles to be infiltrated into the Japanese-occupied Philippines. MacArthur responded, in a penciled note at the bottom of a memo, “No objection.”

But if there was no objection in Brisbane, there was plenty in Washington. In November 1943, I was asked to head up the Office of World Information in the southwest Pacific. I agreed on the condition that General MacArthur, whom I had known in prewar days, actually wanted me in Australia. When he sent a favorable reply to the Pentagon, I began preparing for the trip. It was January 1944, before I could get my shots, select the men who were to go with me, and receive a thorough briefing on what the OWI had to offer in the way of psychological warfare. Late in December (1943) I stumbled across the “I Shall Return—MacArthur” file in the OWI headquarters in New York.

From the file I learned that shortly after Whitney got his clearance for the slogan, he asked the OWI in Sydney to produce substantial quantities of cigarettes, chewing gum, chocolate bars, and sewing kits. All were to be carefully packaged and would bear the “I Shall Return—MacArthur” slogan along with the crossed Philippine and American flags. Mike Stivers, who was head of the Sydney OWI office, asked New York OWI to deliver the goods. Then started a series of orders and counter-orders that must have set a record.

Every time the production people in New York were ready to award an order for, say, ten thousand packs of cigarettes with the slogan on them, the policy people in Washington would stop the order. Washington OWI claimed it was against national policy to build up a single theater commander. New York OWI simply wanted to get the job done. The resulting orders and cancellations must have made the purchasing officer dizzy.

The real objection in Washington, of course, was that MacArthur was a potential candidate for the presidency. No one with any standing in the Roosevelt administration wanted to be responsible for anything that might result in MacArthur’s aggrandizement. The fact that the propaganda was to be used among Filipinos, who would not vote in the American elections, did not seem to make any impression on Washington.

I decided I would go to Australia until this issue was settled, and, if it was settled adversely, I decided I would not go at all. I had no political interest in the matter, but I knew that Whitney had struck on the best possible slogan for use in the Philippines. Each time the slogan “I Shall Return—MacArthur” turned up in the Philippines it would be worth more than a million words poured into radio transmitters beamed at a country in which there were very few short wave receiving sets.

After several requests for a top-level conference, I met with Robert Sherwood, who was director of the overseas branch of OWI, and Joe Barnes, who was in charge of the Australian operation. As persuasively as possible I told them of the magic of MacArthur’s name in the Philippines, and of the need for a slogan that could be understood by 18 million Filipinos speaking scores of different dialects. Both Sherwood and Barnes knew enough about the ways of publicity to concede the truth of my argument. But they expressed doubts about the advisability of boosting a commander in any single theater. I pointed out there was no comparable situation in any other theater. They said MacArthur might not survive to return to the Philippines. I said I had a hunch he would be around for a long time to come. They said we might not go back to Japan by way of the Philippines. I quoted Roosevelt’s “There are many roads to Tokyo. We shall neglect none of them. “Finally Joe Barnes turned to Sherwood and said, “Bob, I think Fritz is right. Let’s O.K. the Sydney request.”

“O.K.,” said Sherwood. Then to me he said, “At least you ought to get credit for this when you get to Brisbane.”

When I got to Brisbane I found Mike Stivers had done what any sensible man on the scene would have done. He went ahead and used the slogan on locally produced chewing gum and non-meltable chocolate bars specially produced for the tropics. He produced Volume Number I of Free Philippines, with MacArthur’s picture and the “I Shall Return” slogan on the cover. There was one mistake on it. The Philippine flag showed the blue stripe at the top, in spite of a convention that in time of war the flag is turned upside down and the red stripe is on top.

I never told Sherwood and Barnes that their decision was late if proper. Nor did I tell MacArthur or Whitney of the foot-dragging in Washington. We went ahead and got the other supplies from the United States, and Whitney sent them into the Philippines through Commander Chick Parson’s submarine fleet. The Free Philippines magazine ran through 10 numbers. The final issue had one major change. The slogan was changed to “I Have Returned—MacArthur.”

As history has shown, the political impact of using the slogan was nil so far as the American vote was concerned. I did convince a lot of Filipinos that the United States would keep its word. It sparked the only effective guerrilla movement in the Far East, and one of the most effective in the entire world.

On one occasion, General Whitney had a little trouble with his radio network. Lt. George Rowe, an ex-Manilan who served in the Navy during World War II, volunteered to man a radio station and weather bureau on Mindoro. He was outfitted in Australia, given a group to work with, and told to select the call letters for his proposed Mindoro station.

The central radio transmitter for all of the guerrilla stations was located at MacArthur’s headquarters and used the call letters ISRM. The significance was clear. The letters meant “I Shall Return—MacArthur.”

Rowe, with a sly exhibition of navy humor, asked that his stations be assigned the letters IHRR. But Whitney figured out the meaning of those letters—”I Have Returned—Rowe.”

Lieutenant Rowe was given another set of letters. But he had the last laugh. When he established his station on Mindoro he called it Camp Nimitz, after the commander in chief of the American navy forces in the Pacific. Whitney was too far away to do anything about this exhibition of lese majesty.

There is one amusing epilogue to the “I Shall Return” story. After Luzon had been liberated and the Philippine campaign was coming to an end, the OWI closed up its office in Brisbane. Like the army, it no longer needed Australia for a base of operations. The Australians, so happy to see us come, were equally happy to see us go. They were naturally anxious to get their country back.

The OWI rear echelon—we were quite military for a bunch of civilians—packed up the furniture and files. One unused bundle of “I Shall Return—MacArthur” leaflets was tossed on to the truck heading for the pier. It fell to the ground, and a passing pedestrian beat the OWI man to the broken bundle. He picked up a leaflet and read, “I Shall Return—MacArthur.”

“I bloody well hope not,” said the unhappy Aussie.