The author interviews Jose Maria Sison to see if there is something human about a so-called “terrorist” who is considered legendary or notorious, depending on one’s beliefs.
BY RUDY D. LIPORADA
Contributed to Bulatlat.com
In 2005, I went to Europe for a month-long vacation with my family. Hopping through Iceland, England, France, Germany and The Netherlands, I made it a point to see Jose Maria Sison in Utrecht. You can say that the latter is seemingly a tourist destination now in The Netherlands because a so-called “terrorist” lives there. I was hoping to check for myself if there is anything human about this person.
I found out, however, that an afternoon chat with the revolutionary would not be enough to capture in words his human side. He is, after all, either legendary or notorious (depending on how one views him).
For those who believe that the Communist Party of the Philippines which he reestablished in December 1968 and the New People’s Army which he founded in March 1969 are “terrorist” groups, it is easy to picture Joma as nothing but a communist blubbering machine.
Nonetheless, beyond the Marxist polemic, “Arroyo is a lame duck,” and “those were the good old revolutionary days” chat we had in August 2005, Joma expressed his yearning for mangoes. “The carabao ones,” he emphasizes. In spite of his claim as being at home with the world as an internationalist, this yearning is a crack through which one could glimpse a Filipino human who longs for the embrace of the motherland after being away for a long time.
Abroad, Joma had joined the legions of Filipinos who had been uprooted from the Philippines. While most overseas Filipino workers (OFWs), however, could go home on vacations to fulfill their yearnings, Joma cannot. He has sought political asylum in The Netherlands since former President Corazon Aquino cancelled his Philippine passport in 1988.
Mangoes are actually described in Joma’s 1994 poem “Sometimes, the Heart Yearns for Mangoes.” Here he expresses that while there is a notion that life for Filipinos is better abroad, “sometimes we yearn for mangoes where there are apples.” He also laments being separated from his relatives, not even able to visit his sick mother because he has been robbed “of home, kith, and kin.” The poem is the core expression of his longing for the country where he was born in Cabugao, Ilocos Sur, on February 8, 1939.
And like most Filipinos abroad, Joma would always look for opportunities that can him a semblance of Filipino life. Like any Filipino community abroad, Filipinos in The Netherlands love to party and provide him those stringent jolly times.
On such occasions, Joma simply blends. “I did not really care who he was when we were introduced,” says Nico Javier who is a post-Philippine Martial Law baby who grew up in the U.S. and was a music student in The Hague. Now back in Michigan, U.S., Nico says, “I just noticed that he was neatly dressed and almost everyone wanted to talk to him.” He adds, “With what is happening in the Philippines and the world, I am now interested in Joma’s perspectives. I regret that while in The Netherlands, I have not huddled with those people who crowded to speak with the man.”
True to his being Ilocano, Joma would readily dive into a dish of pinakbet (vegetable dish in the Ilocos region). Whenever there is a karaoke, he loves singing “Mao’s Way,” lifted from a Frank Sinatra song “My Way.” And when there is dancing, he would do so normally to 1950s and 1960s music. “I love to cha-cha,” says Joma. “That is not Charter Change,” he quips. “And Julie (Joma’s wife) could do the boogie, cha-cha, and the tango.”
Joma and Julie met when he was an English professor and she was a library cataloguer at the University of the Philippines in the early 1960s. In spite of having four children, they were together in organizing the movement, in detention (where Joma was manacled and held incommunicado for 18 months), and now in The Netherlands. When Joma was labeled a “terrorist” shortly after 9/11, their measly $1,000.00 bank account was frozen. Unable to seek employment because of his tag, Joma and Julie depend on the latter’s subsistence allowance as a legal resident of Netherlands.
For their austere amenities, his detractors project Joma as leading the revolution by “remote control,” unmindful of the suffering revolutionaries go through especially in the mountains as he lives a good life abroad.
“This is, of course, designed to discredit us and dissuade people from the movement,” says Joma. “But the comrades know that we are not having a luxurious time here. There is nothing more than I wish today but to be in the mainstream of the struggle in the Philippines but the comrades themselves advise against it. I could surely be easily assassinated. Not that I am not in danger here that is why I never go out alone. I cannot even venture out of the borders of The Netherlands. But the comrades know that we are working hard for the peace negotiations and information campaign about the Philippines.”
When not politically working 12 to 14 hours a day where he writes position papers and messages of solidarity to Philippine and foreign mass organizations, Joma and Julie simply have strolls in the parks of Utrecht. He writes and reads poetry and has recorded his own songs on CD. He regrets having stopped playing basketball since 1992 with those far younger than him.
Given that he started experiencing shortness of breath in 1998, he had been prompted to stop smoking in 2001. “To stop smoking, I wrote a pledge to myself and had friends witness my signing. I suffered nausea and all those withdrawal symptoms initially. I am standing firm on my resolve.”
This seems to be a simple sacrifice for a man who has gone through a lot and wants to prolong his life so that, maybe one day, he may gratify his yearning for mangoes – mangoes that come from a sturdy tree which, like Joma’s movement, takes years to grow from a simple seed, that must be nourished and smoked, before it could yield clusters of those sumptuous fruits, green or gold. (Bulatlat.com)
Editor’s Note: The author is editor of the publication Kapitbahay (Neighbor) in San Diego, California.
