Dogs of war

I remember an interesting title of a paperback I read a long time ago. It was called the Dogs of War. What escapes me now is the name of the author. Was it Frederick Forsythe who wrote The Day of the Jackal and the Odessa File? Anyway. I am sure I have this book stashed somewhere in my small library along such thrillers of a fiction as Robert Ludlum's The Scarlatti Inheritance and Bourne Identity.

I recalled this title The Dogs of war in the wake of an emotionally gripping incident. It happened last Friday, starting placidly. A lull before a storm so to speak. Entertaining the idea that another hectic week was winding up, I rested lazily on our sofa, my tired eyes glued on television. Cameras were focused on a religious/political activity, which because it seemed to take long hours to evolve, appeared less interesting to many. Save for the fact that high-profile personalities as a former Vice President of the republic, a former Executive Secretary, an incumbent senator and two members of the House of Representatives were at its front, it looked destined to pass uneventful, meaning passively. To me, it assumed a very meek form quite unlike the other frenzied, if violent, mass actions against Her Excellency, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.

Then, as the prayer rallyists inched slowly, the dogs of war were unleashed by the government. Two uniformed men, both salaried by taxes, poised themselves atop a fire truck. Imagine how Forsythe would describe their placement as "like artillery files surrounded by impenetrable machine gun nests." Safe from any form of retaliation, they mercilessly trained their water cannon on the innocent marchers. The water pressure immediately took its catastrophic tool. A lady, clearly unable to withstand the unimaginable water pressure, violently fell to the ground. She was helped by two gentlemen who, after tremendous efforts, almost lost their own footing, no thanks also to the same water cannon.

The dogs of war were unforgiving. In fact, I could discern some kind of devilish smile written on their faces. Encouraged by the complete absence of resistance, they feasted on many defenseless individuals, including priests and women.

I was angered that a lady senator of the republic should be subjected to a physical assault by the very men who are paid by peoples' money to protect and defend the citizenry. What a reversal of roles! Why were the men in uniform bent on inflicting physical injuries on an honorable elected official of the land? Did her joining a religious/political march pose a present and clear danger to the administration of Pres. Arroyo that would justify such an act of violence of the person of a senator? Frankly, I could not answer these questions. What was obvious to me was that the humiliation of Sen. Madrigal's being literally drained down the gutter was a serious affront on our liberties, a breach of our constitutional guarantees. What incensed me even more was the sight of a drenched Teofisto Guingona Jr. By all appearances, he was an elderly walking down a street harmlessly. Forsythe could not miss describing his walk as an innocent stroll. Yet, why train a very powerful burst of water on such an innocent ordinary man? But, my God, Guingona is not an ordinary elderly citizen. Only a little more than a year ago, he was the Vice President of our Republic. I could never believe that not one among the dogs of war recognized him. While now frail in his physical build, Guingona's face, appeared remarkably the same as the very face of the senator of the Philippines, who made the privilege speech that led to the ouster of former President Joseph Estrada. Surely, some policemen must have seen him in the crowd and should have seen fit to act with honorable restraint. But, with apologies to Forsythe, there is no honor among the dogs of war.

In my earlier article, I warned that Executive Order 464 was a trail balloon. Then, we graduated to the CPR. Because we seemed to take in complacent stride these escalating acts of repression, we saw, last Friday, the Dogs of War. What's next!