The President Who Never Was

Actor Fernando Poe Jr. greeted by the people on the campaign trail during the 2004 Philippine Presidential Elections (Photo by Bibeth Orteza)

It was the morning of October 8, 2002. I was sitting on the floor of his room at Texicano Hotel in Laoag, Ilocos Norte. FPJ was lying in bed and we were chatting. I had gone to Laoag to say goodbye to him as I was leaving for the US a week later to go on an extended break, my first in 19 years of working for him. He was on location filming “Ang Alamat ng Lawin,” his entry to the 2002 Metro Manila Film Festival. “Hindi ako tatakbo, Tagle.” (I will not run, Tagle). He was referring to the growing clamor for him to run in the 2004 presidential election. “Ano ang gagawin natin sa Malacanan?” (What will we do in Malacanan?). I smiled and said “Oo, ‘Ger, kakainin kayo ng buong-buo ng mga buwitre dun!” (Yes, Manager, the vultures there will completely eat you!). We talked about many other things that day before we went to the set for his evening shoot.

Just before midnight, I kissed him goodbye, promised I would call him often while I was away, and took the bus back to Manila. I was away for nearly six months, returning to Manila in late March 2003.

In August 2003, during his birthday party, while celebrating with the FPJ boys (production staff and crew) at the Del Monte Avenue studio, talk turned to the now ever-greater clamor for him to cast his hat into the race. I sensed a change in his tone and attitude. He was more open to the idea. I was saddened by this, but that night I promised him I would support whatever decision he made.

And things progressed from there… In September, he traveled to the US to visit his ailing aunt and siblings based there, presumably to consult them. He returned in October and shortly after attended an event organized by the FPJPM (FPJ for President Movement). There, he was overwhelmed when presented with the over two million signatures the group had gathered urging him to run for President. In November, he declared his candidacy.

The following months saw the neophyte candidate criss-crossing the country. Thousands of people would line the streets wherever he went. Crowds would converge, their hands stretched out to touch him. Less than a week into the campaign period, I saw how swollen his hands were, and his arms were full of scratches. He was barely sleeping… juggling campaign sorties, meetings with political leaders, organized groups and potential supporters. One evening after a campaign rally, he called me into his hotel room to give instructions. It was past midnight. Midway through a sentence, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. After nearly an hour, I slipped out of his room, went to mine and was awakened at 5 a.m. by his alalay (aide). He was clearly tired. He gave his instructions, proceeded to get dressed and was off again before sunrise. 

We all know how events unfolded. In June 30, 2004, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo was sworn in as president; a protest was soon filed against her victory.

Poe (left) with President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and Senator Panfilo Lacson. (Source Inquirer.net)

One very early morning in October 2004 (two years after Ilocos), I found myself sitting on the floor again while he lay in bed. This time we were in his Antipolo rest house. It was the first time we discussed lengthily what had transpired in the year that had gone by. We rehashed events, analyzed and scrutinized details and tried to fathom people we had worked with and their motives and intentions. Our conversation lasted for over four hours. I detected sadness in his voice and saw that his eyes were not as animated as they would be when we were talking about film projects. He said, "Hindi naman ako nalulungkot dahil sa hindi tayo naka-upo sa palasyo, Tagle. Nalulungkot ako kasi hindi nasunod ang tunay na gusto ng masang Pilipino. Naniniwala akong nanalo tayo." (I am not sad because we are not in the Palace. I am sad because the true will of the Filipino masses was not recognized. I believe we won.) Being the ex-activist that I am, I remember saying that there are ways of imposing the people's will other than through electoral protest. He smiled and said, "Ikaw talaga, Tagle, napaka-kaliwa mo. Hindi. Lagi kong sinasabi na rule of law, kaya susundin natin ang proceso.” (You are such a left-leaning person, Tagle. No. I have always mouthed rule of law, therefore we will follow due process.)

Seated (L-R): Susan V. Tagle (manager of FPJ), Director Peque Gallaga, Emily Abrera (McCann Erickson), Chona Bustamante (McCann), FPJ, Dino Sian (McCann)

Standing: June Rufino (manager of Peque), Cholo Tagaysay (McCann), Joey Avenezuela (McCann), Bogie Gallardo (McCann), Val Tan (San Miguel Corp), Mike Ochasa (McCann) (Photo courtesy of Susan V. Tagle)

But God sometimes has a different way of resolving things. On December 11, 2004, Mr. Poe suffered a stroke, never regained consciousness and passed away a minute past midnight of December 14.

I can still vividly remember the next eight days. Santo Domingo Church and the streets around it was a sea of people. From the moment we opened his wake to the public up to the morning of his burial, the masses never stopped coming. We had to devise a plan for controlling the crowd flow and directing them in such a way that traffic in the area would be least disrupted. On the day of the burial, I remember saying to myself that I had never seen so much sadness and outpouring of love for one person as I had the past eight days. People I did not know were stopping me, telling me how sorry they were that he was gone. Many of them would hand me mass cards, hand-made posters, or flowers to lay beside him.

At close to noon of December 22, we laid to rest “The King,” forever ending the dream of the masses that one ordinary man would lead them, guide them and try to lift their lot out of the ever-deepening hole of poverty they were in.

For in FPJ the masses saw HOPE. They saw in him the sincerity of a man whose only desire was to be of service to his country. They saw in him the honesty of a man who believed that given the chance, our people can rise above their poverty and become productive members of our society. They saw that beyond the “artista lang” (“only an actor”) is a man who genuinely wanted to inspire his countrymen.

A campaign poster featuring Poe and running mate Senator Loren Legarda

[On the occasion of his third death anniversary,] I ask myself if there was any meaning to his presidential bid. I ask myself if our country is any better for the events of 2004. Was his sacrifice of giving up his very private life and exposing himself to the smear and ridicule worth the effort? Did his death impact our country more than just the passing of an icon?

I would like to think that the answer is YES on all counts. His “loss” in the elections of 2004 showed us how corrupt our electoral process has become. His “loss” has forced us to evaluate the system by which we elect the people who govern us. His “loss” has opened our eyes to the fact that the powers that be can, and will, go to the lowest level in an effort to stay in power.

And YES, his death has made us realize that we lost a great yet humble man. A man who could have led this country with SINCERITY, HONESTY, and COMPASSION, if he were given the chance.

FERNANDO POE, JR. will always be, to me, THE PRESIDENT WHO NEVER WAS. And I would like to think that we are worse off because of that. 

[Posted with permission from the author’s Facebook page.]

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Susan V. Tagle

Susan V. Tagle's activist roots come from being a member of the UP Repertory Company during the Martial Law years. She was Fernando Poe Jr.'s personal and business manager from 1984 up to the time of his death in 2004.