Portrait of My Father as a Young Man

August 3, was the death anniversary of my father, Macapanton Abbas, Sr. I was just 5 and a half years old when he passed away, so I don’t really know much about him, esp. when he was a young man. For whatever I remember of him, he was already an old man. He was already starting to have grey hairs. He used to ask me to pull out his grey hairs and I would be paid 10 centavos per silver strand.

All I know of him as a young man was through my mother. According to her, when my father was born, a bayok or Mranao epic song was composed. The song began with the word Macapanton. That was his name. She said his full name would be the whole bayok.

The year was 1910. Less than 20 years earlier, the Spaniards decided to finally attack Lanao, more than 200 years after they first tried attacking the Pat a Pangampong ko Ranao (the Confederated Principalities of Lanao) during the time of Sultan Qudarat and Spanish Governor-General Sebastián Hurtado de Corcuera in 1637.

In 1891 and again in 1895, near the end of the 19th century, the Spaniards called for a “Crusade” against the people of Lanao. Together with their Indio subjects, the Spaniards invaded Lanao, gained a foothold, but could not maintain it. The people of Marawi, led by Datu Amai Pakpak and other datus, held their ground.

But soon, the Indios themselves revolted in what came to be known as the Philippine Revolution. With the revolution in the North, the Moros in the South had a field day sending the Spaniards packing.

But then came new invaders – the Americans. In 1910, Moroland was still, technically, at war with the USA. American and Western historians call the period of 1901-1913 as the Moro Rebellion or Moro Wars.

In such a setting was Macapanton born to Hadji Darapa Abbas, the Datu of Marawi, who was the son of Hadji Okur, the Rajah Muda of Marawi, who was in turn the son of Rampatan, the Datu of Marawi. The rank/title of Datu of Marawi is firmly in the line of Macapanton’s patrilineal heritage.

The Datu of Marawi was the Defender of Marawi. Up to that time, the Mranaos never paid any taxes to the Spanish or the American colonial governments. The Mranaos, as most Moros, paid tributes or zakat to their feudal leaders. The people of Marawi paid tribute to the Datu of Marawi. The Sultan of Marawi was more of a figurehead position; the one who was usually called to represent the 5 sultanates of Marawi — Madaya, Guimba, Toros, Bacolod and Marawi 

Macapanton’s mother was Bai a labi Dalumabi, sister of Cotawato, who was the Sultan of Dayawan and Wato. Her other brother was Bacarat, who also became Sultan of Marantao.

Upon Macapanton’s birth at the Dayawan torogan (royal house), his uncle Cotawato and his wife (Paramanis?) adopted him. According to my mother, Cotawato’s wife was the sister of Hadji Abbas. Adopting nephews and nieces was quite usual among Mranao families. Adopted children also acquire the rights and privileges to the ranks and titles of their adoptive parents. Thus, Macapanton and his descendants held the rights and privileges to two sets of royal bloodlines.

Cotawato was better known as Ama i Macapanton or father of Macapanton. This confused and still confuses people as many, including their descendants, think that Amai Macapanton was Hadji Abbas.

EARLY SCHOOLING

In the early decades of the American Occupation, most Mranao parents refused to send their children to school for fear of being converted to Christianity. But my father insisted on going to school. Either he has a real thirst for knowledge or he must have really liked his American teachers. Or both. And I suppose he could easily manipulate his two sets of parents.

After elementary, he wanted to pursue his studies further but his parents refused.

One day, the American Secretary of Education of the Philippine Islands visited Marawi and went to his uncle’s house. His uncle was Ibra Gundarangin, the Sultan of Lanao, who would later become the first Congressman of Lanao. Without much ado, my father, who had just finished elementary school, approached the Secretary and with pen and paper, asked the American official to write a letter to have him admitted to a high school in Manila. The Secretary was at first surprised, and after asking the Sultan who the boy was, proceeded to write there and then a letter for his admission to a school in Manila.

His elders were then forced to send him to Manila. He enrolled at the Legarda or Manila West High School (later re-named Torres High School) in Tondo, which was then run by Americans. According to my mother, he was placed in the lowest section because he came from Mindanao. But after the first grading period, he was transferred to the first section. That was in the 1920s.

My father was an ardent swimmer as he used to swim in the Agos River in Lanao. In Luzon, he joined swimming competitions in Laguna.

PHILIPPINE LAW SCHOOL and NEBRASKA HALL

For college, he went to the Philippine Law School, which was then the leading private law school. In 1931, his uncle the Sultan of Lanao was appointed Representative of the Third District of the Province of Mindanao and Sulu. He was the very first Mranao congressman, serving at the same time as his in-law Datu Sinsuat Balabaran, the first Maguindanaon congressman, who was representative of the Fourth District. My father got extra money as the Congressman’s secretary and interpreter.

He stayed at a dormitory called Nebraska Hall with schoolmate Diosdado Macapagal and his Moro best friends Domocao Alonto, Duma Sinsuat and Salipada Pendatun. The latter three were students at the neighboring University of the Philippines. Duma was the son of Datu Sinsuat. Duma’s mother was an aunt of my father. Later, Macapagal took a break from school, and transferred to the University of Santo Tomas.

STUDENT LEADERSHIP

As a student, my father was reportedly a member of the Order of the Swastika where he became the Mahatma Grand Lama. The Swastika was then, as today, a mystical symbol of Hindu origin, not a symbol of Hitler’s Nazism.

According to my mother, my father’s close friends were the students of Philippine Law School and University of the Philippines. She said Cecilia Muñoz-Palma, the first female Supreme Court Associate justice and later leading oppositionist against the Marcos regime, was one of my father’s “barkada” or clique.

I recently found out through the Internet that my father was a founding member of Vinzon’s Young Philippines Party. I came upon an article by Emmanuel Dooc for his Telltales column in the Business Mirror newspaper. Titled ‘Wenceslao Q. Vinzons: The Hero the Nation Forgot,’ it says: “He (Vinzons) founded the Young Philippines Party, which counted as members Arturo Tolentino, Lorenzo Sumulong, Diosdado Macapagal, Ferdinand Marcos, Domocao Alonto, Jose Laurel Jr., Macapanton Abbas and many others who all became prominent figures in Philippine politics.” 

In an FB page Kasaysayang May Saysay, there is an entry titled MAHAHALAGANG ARAW SA KASAYSAYAN dated Jan. 5, 2015. It listed 6 dates on January in Philippine history. The last date was this:
“Enero 7, 1934

“Inaprubahan ng isang komite ng mga student leader ang mga alintuntunin sa pagtatag ng samahang Young Philippines. Kabilang sa mga tagapagtatag na kasapi ay sina Wenceslao Vinzons, Macapanton Abbas, at Arturo Tolentino. Ayon naman sa memoirs ng huli, noong Enero 8, 1934 naman pormal na inilunsad ang Young Philippines sa isang hotel sa Maynila; ang paglulunsad na ito ay dinaluhan nina Manuel Roxas, Jose Laurel at iba pang mga pangunahing pulitiko. Magiging partido ang Young Philippines sa bungad ng dekada 40.” (underline added) (https://www.facebook.com/394043717340442/posts/mahahalagang-araw-sa-kasaysayanenero-1-1899-ayon-kay-cesar-majul-pinanukala-ni-e/736546696423474/)

Again, in an M.A. thesis, this was mentioned about the Young Philippines Party:

“Siyempre pa, kailangan ding banggitin ang mga pangunahing nagtaguyod ng Young Philippines: Arturo Tolentino, Wenceslao Vinzons, Macapanton Abbas, at iba pa.” [ Asuncion, Ruben Jeffrey (2015) Kasaysayan ng mga Samahang Kabataan, 1934-1978 , M.A. thesis p.174]

It looks like the Young Philippines’ Party, composed of the crème de la crème of the youth at that time, was an anti-Quezon, anti-Establishment, and even anti-US organization. It is against the dominant historical narrative that at that time, practically all Filipinos loved Quezon and Osmeña and the U.S.A..

As mentioned above, the YPP was formally launched in a hotel in Manila with big-time politicians like Manuel Roxas and Jose P. Laurel in attendance. But the New York Times twisted the story and claimed that it was a “Fascist Party…Complete with a Salute”. It claimed that Roxas, who was then complaining that Quezon and Osmeña were hogging the limelight, headed the party. But at least, it reported that the aim was “clean government”, that the party would “Bow to No Man”, and that it was against Quezon’s plan. Even at that time, US media were already practicing Fake News.

And then there’s a photo I got from the Internet. The original caption of the photo is: “Nucleus Group, Pan Malayan People’s Union, Organized by Student Council Leaders”. Beneath the photo, there’s another caption that says: “above photo from Philippinensian 1933, Wenceslao Q. Vinzons is in the front row center”. The gentleman at the back row, rightmost, in a bow tie, is my father. (The photo was colorized.)

It appears that student leaders then were not as parochial as today’s. They even think of the Greater Malay region which includes Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia. The Pan Malayan People’s Union’s slogan was Malaya Irredenta (Malaya Unredeemed) and it encouraged the use of the Malay language.

1935

The year 1935 was a momentous year for the Philippines. On February 8, the Philippine Constitution was created and was signed by the delegates on February 15.

On March 18, the Moro sultans and datus signed the Dansalan Declaration at the Dayawan torogan. The Declaration, which was sent to the U.S. President and Congress, asked the US government NOT to include the Moro Nation (Bangsa Moro), esp. Lanao, in its grant of independence to the Philippine Islands. The Dansalan Declaration reiterated the appeal of the Zamboanga Declaration of 1924 where Moro leaders then led by Mangigin, the Sultan of Maguindanao, for the US NOT to include the Bangsa Moro in its grant of independence to the Philippines.

Both historical documents used the phrase Bangsa Moro, which means Moro Nation, to refer to the Muslim indigenous inhabitants of Mindanao and Sulu.

The Dansalan Declaration informed the US President and government that the Moros would rather “drown in the lake” than be a part of a Philippine state.

In February, the delegates of the Constitutional Convention signed the Philippine Constitution. In March, US President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed his approval. On May 14, the Filipinos ratified the Constitution in a referendum. On Sept. 16, Manuel L. Quezon was elected President of the Commonwealth, defeating Emilio Aguinaldo and Bishop Aglipay. On November 15, the Commonwealth was inaugurated.

As all these were happening, my father finished his law studies (ahead of his dorm-mates), took the Bar exam and was admitted to the Philippine Bar in November of that year; thus becoming the first Moro lawyer. My father’s batch of Bar passers that year were admitted to the Philippine Bar barely a week or so after the start of the Philippine Commonwealth. Thus, they were the very first lawyers of the Philippine Commonwealth.

GRAND HOMECOMING

My mother said that when he came back to Lanao, there was a big celebration, with the traditional cannons being fired for the occasion. To my father’s shock, his elders had arranged it to be his wedding day, too. He was to choose between the daughters of a sultan. He took his father aside and told him that he would only marry the daughter of the Sheikh in Davao.

Unexpected arranged weddings are not uncommon in Lanao, until up to the 1960s. Some unlucky guys did not even have a choice. When they came home, they found out that they were already married by proxy, without their consent. I have a cousin who experienced that when he came home from abroad.

I don’t know how my father’s elders appeased the sultan and his daughters, but it seemed like a successful celebration.

In the early 1980s in Jeddah, a gentleman from Lanao who used to be assistant to the late Senate President Amang Rodriguez, told me that he had met my father. I asked when. He said, “1935, after he passed the Bar.” I laughed, I thought he was joking. That was a long time ago.

He said that he was just in his teens, then. He said that it was a grand celebration, with the traditional cannons (lantakas) being fired. Firing of traditional cannons was reserved for great occasions. He confirmed the story told to me by my mother. He said the Mranaos were delighted that my father passed the Bar with a much higher rating than the Constitutional Convention delegate of Lanao Tomas Cabili. He then mentioned my father’s rating. I don’t remember exactly; but, it was in the higher 80s. I was dumbfounded. He even remembered my father’s bar exam rating! I never heard anyone in my family talking about my father’s bar exam rating.

THE COURTSHIP OF MY MOTHER

It was actually Domocao Alonto who first courted my mother while she was vacationing in her father’s hometown in Bayang. Some time later, he introduced my father to her. Soon, both of them were courting my mother. After a while, Pendatun also saw my mother, and started courting her, too. My mother spoke fluent Mranao and Maguindanaon so Pendatun, a Maguindanaon, was not handicapped in terms of local language. Of course, they all spoke English.

And so the three law students – Alonto, Pendatun and Abbas — all vied vigorously for my mother’s hand in marriage. She was then studying in Cebu.

My mother said that one day, she was summoned to the school headmistress’s office. The headmistress informed her that three letters from three gentlemen arrived that day for her. But she could not have them because letters from gentlemen who were not close relatives were forbidden. My mother said she was very embarrassed but quite flattered and found the incident rather funny.

My mother had quite a number of Christian suitors in Cebu. But her father insisted that she must choose among the three Moro lawyers or else she would be married to a “black teeth”, i.e. one of the uneducated indigenous highlanders.

After passing the Bar, with his two Moro rivals still studying, the 26-year old Datu Macapanton Abbas of Ranao asked for the hand in marriage of Sitti Rahma Yahya of the Sultanate of Bayang (in Lanao), Rajahnate of Buayan (Cotabato), and Sultanate of Lahej (in Yemen). She was 18.

They were married in my mother’s hometown Malita in Davao. The town – Malita – was a vassal state of the Rajahnate of Buayan and was inhabited by the indigenous tribes Manobos and Tagakaulos. The modern-day Malita was practically built by her grandparents, the core of which was their 3000 – hectare plantation. Her grandfather and later her father became the town presidente, now called mayor.

In a strange twist of Fate, my father could not attend his second daughter’s wedding to the son of his friend and cousin Duma Sinsuat, who was then the Secretary of General Services in President Macapagal’s Cabinet. The wedding was held at the Manila Hotel around 1955. His friend and former rival Senator Domocao Alonto was the one who “gave away” his daughter. The Senator told my sister that it was all right because “she should have been his daughter anyway.”

In 1977, I went to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia during our school’s Hajj break. I was then studying at Dhahran in Saudi Arabia. Senator Pendatun, or Uncle Pendy, as he wanted to be called, was a guest at my brother Jun’s house. He told me, in his stentorian voice, that Jun and I should have been his sons, if only my mother chose him over my father.

My mother said that Uncle Pendy wrote to her that he had hitched his wagon to the stars, and that my mother should hitch hers to his. He indeed hitched his wagon to the stars — he became a war hero (which was the basis for his appointment as a General), a Governor. a Senator, a Congressman and Speaker Pro-tempore and after briefly leading the Moro opposition against Marcos and Martial Law, joined Marcos’s government to be an Assemblyman and Speaker Pro-tem.

FORAY INTO POLITICS

The demise of Congressman Ibra Gundarangin created a vacuum in the political leadership of my father’s clans – the families of Dansalan, Marahui, Dayawan, Piagapo, Madaya, Guimba, Saduc, etc. The two fathers of Macapanton — Hadji Abbas and Cotawato preferred to remain behind the scenes or powers behind the throne. Their clans’ ascendancy started in the American occupation when Dansalan became the center of commerce and eventually became a municipality and the capital of the whole Lanao in 1907.

The Americans complained that there were so many sultans and datus in Lanao that they didn’t know whom to talk to. My father’s clans decided to proclaim one of them as the Sultan of Lanao, so there would be only one Lanao Sultan whom the Americans could talk to. My father’s clansmen chose Ibra Gundarangin as Sultan of Lanao. He was politically inclined, very diplomatic and not hot-headed, sociable, and had a rich father-in-law, who happened to be an Americanista. Americanistas preferred that the Moros side with the Americans while the Filipinistas preferred to play along with the Filipinos led by Quezon and Osmena. Ibra was a leader of the Filipinistas. My father’s clans favored the Filipinistas. Maybe they thought that having an Americanista as a father-in-law was like keeping an enemy on your side, another plus side for Datu Ibra.

Naturally, there were sultans and datus in the Bayabao pangampong (state or principality) who complained. But the Dansalan/Marawi and related clans put up a show-of-force to publicly proclaim Ibra Gundarangin as Sultan of Lanao with as much pomp and pageantry they could muster, with all the necessary royal banners. From then on, the American and Filipino officials made it a point to seek audience with the Sultan of Lanao when they visit the province.

The demise of Sultan Ibra was a big blow to the Marawi clans. In the 1934 elections for the Constitutional Convention, Macapanton’s clansmen could not decide on a candidate. Macapanton was still pursuing his law studies in Manila.

Tomas Cabili was appointed Justice of the Peace of Dansalan in 1934. Somehow, he was able to ingratiate himself with the Dansalan / Marawi clansmen, who then decided to support him as their delegate to the 1934 Constitutional Convention. He won, along with Congressman Alonto. Cabili showed his gratitude to his Mranao supporters by refusing to sign the Philippine Constitution because it did not protect and promote the rights of the Moro people, esp. his constituents, the Mranaos. This made him quite popular among Mranaos. He was the only delegate to the 1934 Constitutional Convention who refused to sign the Philippine Constitution. All the Moro delegates signed the Constitution.

In the 1935 elections for the First National Assembly, Macapanton was just finishing his studies and gearing up for the Bar exams. Although the Young Philippines Party, esp. its leader Wenceslao Vinzons, campaigned very hard for Aguinaldo, Macapanton didn’t seem to care enough to participate. Macapanton was already planning his future marriage.

So, my father’s clansmen again put up Cabili as their candidate. And he won as the sole representative of Lanao.

After law school and the wedding to Sitti Rahma in Malita, Davao, my father brought his young wife to Marawi, which was then called Dansalan. He practiced law there, mainly representing his relatives pro-bono.

The Second National Assembly elections was scheduled for November 1938. This time, Macapanton was already a lawyer and married to a well-to-do lady, who could provide additional campaign funds, if needed. He could have also asked his father-in-law for help. Sheikh Ismael Yahya was influential in the pangampong of Unayan and could provide some campaign funds, if needed.

My father’s clan repeatedly asked him if he wanted to run for office. He said, “No; No; No.”. His clan, led by his father Hadji Abbas, the Datu of Marawi and uncle/adoptive father Sultan Cotawato of Dayawan and Wato, then announced their support for the popular Tomas Cabili, whom they supported in the previous 1934 and 1935 elections.

A new law allowed block voting, which favored the governing Nacionalista Party  (formerly divided into the Democratica and the Pro-Independencia factions, which later reconciled). Non-Nacionalista politicians were thus wary of putting up their candidacies. In Lanao (then comprised of del Norte and del Sur), no one wanted to challenge Cabili, a member of the Nacionalista Party and the incumbent.

However, for some reasons, my father’s political mentor Congressman (and later Senator) Alauya Alonto, father of his best friend Domocao, persuaded him to run. My mother was against it, my father’s own family; nay, his own clan was against it. His relatives had already sworn to the Holy Qur’an to support Cabili.

Upon hearing my father’s decision to run, Mr. Cabili tried to reason with him. He explained that it was too late to put up a decent campaign, esp. since he was a newcomer. More importantly, his own clan had already pledged their allegiance to Mr. Cabili. He was, Cabili, the champion of the Abbas clan since 1934. Besides, the new law on block voting favored the dominant party, esp. the incumbent.

But, my father was just 28 years old. Still hot-blooded, he wanted to test the political waters. Although it was quite late already, the young Macapanton threw his hat in the ring, with former Congressman and Con-Con delegate Alonto’s party supporting him.

(While my father’s actions were strange — refusing to run when his clan needed a political leader, one who could argue for the rights of his people in the proper language – English and the legal discourse -; and then suddenly running for office with perfect WRONG timing, it is not uncommon in our family. We even have a word for it — eccentric.)

It was a close contest. According to my mother, the Alontos went all out campaigning for my father while my father’s own family went campaigning for Cabili. She said that many of my father’s relatives were in a dilemma and quite conflicted. Some donated sacks of rice and food but they refrained from campaigning for him. My mother also said that surprisingly, my father got more votes than Cabili in the Christian areas.

The Fates were playing with my father. It was indeed the perfect time for him to run, had he announced his candidacy earlier, before his clan announced their support for Cabili, their champion. But he did not do so because as everyone thought that the Alonto clan would put up their candidate, most probably Cong. and Con-Con delegate Alauya Alonto himself, he probably did not want to fight against his best friend’s father, who was also very good to him. In fact, the elder Alonto had publicly declared that he considered Maacapanton as his son.

It was too late in the day when Cong. Alonto invited him to run under his party. The Abbas – related clans of Marawi, Dansalan, Dayawan, Madaya, Marantao, Guimba, Piag-apo, Taraka, etc. have already announced their support for Cabili.

My mother said that even if his own father and other relatives were against his running, he felt quite confident that he would still win. Perhaps according to his calculations, new law or not, he would still win if he could just get half of the supporters of his clan to add to the supporters of the Alonto clan.

But my father did not reckon the power of the swearing to the Qur’an (sapa sa Qur’an.) Some of his relatives, who had pledged to the Qur’an to make Cabili win, burned the main voting precinct in Dansalan – with all the ballots cast there uncounted. Dansalan/Marawi was the Abbas’s hometown. Most of the voters were concentrated in Dansalan (Marawi), the capital of the whole Lanao province.

Even if his clan members campaigned against him, he believed that at least half, if not most of his relatives and clan supporters would still vote for him. Apparently, some of his relatives thought so, too and thus burned the precinct down.

My father was so disappointed that his own relatives would do that to him –burn the precinct down. After this experience, my father refrained from running for political office again.

According to my mother, on the eve of the elections, my father announced that those who would vote for him could come to the house after to partake some food and coffee. To the consternation of my mother, practically the whole town came to their house to eat and drink because they had just voted for my father.

(Coincidentally, when my eldest brother ran in the 1971 Constitutional Convention, he didn’t even want our mother to campaign for him since, according to him, he already got at least 70% of the votes. Our mother, who in 1969, was all over the country campaigning for Marcos for President and her son-in-law Tamano for Senator, told me and my other siblings: “Like Father, Like Son. It’s 1938 all over again!” Like my father in 1938, my brother was an over-confident young lawyer running for office for the very first time, backed by a powerful Mranao politician, and whose only living parent did not campaign for him. But unlike our father, he was with the ruling party, the Nacionalista, But, again, like our father, he was betrayed by – who else(?) – close relatives!!!)

Because of the new law on block voting, all the 98 seats of the National Assembly went to the Nacionalistas. It was the only time in Philippine history that one party won all the seats in the legislature.

For his part, Mr. Cabili offered to endorse my father to the post of City Attorney of Baguio. It was the best available post. But again, his whole clan was against it. During those times, Moros were afraid to live in far-away lands, like Baguio City because of the off-chance they die there, it would be difficult to bring the body back to Lanao within 24 hours.

My mother said that my father’s relatives, esp. his aunts and great-aunts, came crying to him to please not go to Baguio City, which was at the farther end of the Philippines. My father could not go against the wishes of his relatives, again.

My father politely declined Cabili’s offer; to the chagrin of my mother. She would rather be in Baguio than in Lanao. Besides, they spent their honeymoon there just two years before.

My father practiced Patrician Politics. A patrician politician expects people to vote for him in exchange for his expertise and services. He would serve the people to the best of his abilities and would always fight for their rights. He would not beg, steal or borrow just to win elections.

Both Alauya Alonto and Tomas Cabili went on to become senators, followed by Alauya’s son Domocao. My father never ran for office again, but stayed in the Dansalan / Marawi main voting precinct every election day to insure that the counting would be fair; and that nobody would burn down that voting precinct again,

Macapanton joined the election process once more to campaign for a presidential candidate. (But that’s another story, altogether.)

WORLD WAR II

When World War II came, my father wanted to join the guerrilla movement like his friend Salipada or my mother’s cousins Ali Dimaporo and Rashid Lucman, but my mother had none of it. They had 4 daughters, the youngest was just a few months old.

To attract the Moros, the Japanese had their own policy of attraction. The Korean foot soldiers, who created terror in Luzon, were not brought to Moroland. The Japanese invited the young Moros to join the Japanese government and take over the leadership from the Christian Filipinos. Many Moros were attracted, but not my father,

The Japanese then called a manhunt for him. So; my father, my mother, my mother’s mother, my 4 eldest sisters who were small children then, with their servants, had to go on the run. They ran from village to village. I don’t recall if they took with them my mother’s car. But a car would be conspicuous. Thanks to Mranao culture, they were welcomed to the village’s torogan (royal house, if any) or to relatives’ and friends’ houses.

But the war took its toll. My father got wounded. The wound festered, and he had to take massive doses of antibiotics. And then their youngest daughter, Salma, a mere infant, died. That was the last straw. My father decided to surrender.

He finally surrendered to the authorities. He was accompanied by practically all his relatives, who promptly surrounded the premises. He was not arrested. Instead, the Japanese commander asked him to accept the post of Justice of the Peace.

On July 22, 1943  my father was appointed Justice of the Peace of the Momungan groups of municipal districts in Lanao by President Jose P Laurel. He was 33 years old.

As Justice of the Peace during WWII, he was able to free several guerrillas by dismissing their cases. Once, three top guerrillas were caught by the Japanese. The Japanese commander sent him a note to detain the prisoners at all costs. Upon receiving the note, he immediately called the guerrillas, briefly interviewed them and let them go. When confronted by the angry Japanese commander, he simply reasoned out that according to the orders of Philippine President Jose Laurel, all accused should be freed if there were no concrete evidence against them.

When the Americans returned, practically every Mranao claimed to be a guerrilla and got their “back pay”, a  considerable amount. Even those who were high ranking officers in the Japanese government immediately became “guerrillas” when the Americans came back,

My father was sent a telegram by the US Army to get his back pay with the rank of Major. According to the Provost Marshall, his actions as a judge (Justice of the Peace) and the information the Resistance got from him through the radio were very important and helpful. (Very few pro-Resistance families had radios at that time.) He was thus considered to be a covert member of the Resistance. But my father refused to get his US Army commission and back pay because he said he was a Court officer of the Japanese administration.

In fact, one of his former slaves came to him bringing his (the former slave’s) back pay. His former servant asked him to get as much money he wanted. Of course, he refused. My father freed all his slaves after he married my mother.

LEGAL PROFESSION

Because of the hardships they lived through during the Japanese Occupation, my mother extracted a pledge from my father that when everything else had settled down, he would go into business. “The legal profession brings in no money,” my mother said.

But after the war, he was appointed as Justice of the Peace of Tamparan, Mulundu, Taraka, Maging, Gata and Maciu in Lanao by then President Sergio Osmeña.

He reneged his pledge to his wife and stayed on in the legal profession. He blazed the trail for Moros in the legal profession becoming the first Moro First Assistant City Attorney, first Moro Provincial Fiscal, first Moro District Judge and first Moro CFI (now RTC) Judge of Sulu and later, Davao.

KNIGHTS OF MUHAMMAD

The friendship among Alonto, Sinsuat, Pendatun and Abbas did not stop in college. After the war, they formed a secret society called the Knights of Muhammad, together with Datu Ombra Amilbangsa, the husband of the Sultana of Sulu, Hadja Piandao, and some other Moro leaders. They vowed to advance and protect the rights of the Moro people(s). They continually discussed among themselves issues concerning the Moros.

EPILOGUE

In 1964, he was set to be appointed as Justice of the Court of Appeals by former classmate and dorm mate Diosdado Macapagal. The CA seat was to be vacated by September as the concerned justice was going to be kicked upstairs (to the Supreme Court.) Unfortunately, my father was suddenly kicked upstairs — to Heaven — in August 1964 at the age of 54.

I was all set to go with him to Manila to start schooling there. He had been preparing me for it by teaching me lessons from the Grade 1 books of my older sister Landasul.

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See: Sitti Rahma, my mother

Torogan, the Mranao royal house