IN THE late fifties, Julie and I got to know Nick Joaquin by reading
his Prose and Poems, by watching a theatrical production of his Portrait
of the Artist as Filipino and by attending a seminar of writers in
which he was a special guest. We admired him only from a distance.
In the summer of 1967 we visited China. At some point in our tour,
our hosts in the Chinese foreign ministry put us in the same group
of visitors as the delegation of the Philippines Free Press, which
included Mr. and Mrs. Teodoro Locsin, Sr. Teddy Boy Locsin, Nick Joaquin
and Jose "Pete" Lacaba. Together we toured Beijing, Shanghai
and Hangchow.
Pete Lacaba who had covered Kabataang Makabayan events and had previously
known us made us instantly comfortable in the company of his senior
editors. We had the privilege of conversing with Nick Joaquin during
meals, during trips and during free time. We came to know him at close
quarters. He was fun to be with, quite informal and often comical
and jovial.
After the trip to China, we became friends with Nick and Pete as
with the rest of the Free Press delegation. We visited them at their
Free Press office almost everytime that we were in Makati. Then, Nick,
Pete, Greg Brillantes and others in the editorial staff sided with
the workers' union against management.
Eventually, they joined another publication. Julie and I became preoccupied
with the building of the revolutionary party of the proletariat in
1968. When we were already underground, we continued to admire Nick
Joaquin as a writer with a strong sense of the revolutionary history
of the Filipino people. In an understated or subtle way, he was supportive
of the patriotic and progressive cause of the working people and the
militant youth movement.
We like the element of critical realism in his depiction of the cultural
frustrations in the psyche or social psychology of the Filipino and
creollo. He was acutely critical of servility to alien domination
and of either the parochial or petty bourgeois small-mindedness of
Kawitismo.
When Julie was released from detention with our newborn son Jasm
in 1982, my mother planned to have him baptized by Cardinal Sin and
friends agreed to make the baptism become a united front event. Outstanding
personalities stood as the godparents of my child, including Senator
Lorenzo Tañada, Juan T. David, Joker Arroyo and Nick Joaquin.
Soon after I was released from prison in 1986, I had a reunion with
Nick Joaquin and others and had once more the opportunity to drink
chilled beer with him. He hated like hell beer on the rocks and never
ceased to be amused by many Filipinos who drank beer that way.
We will always remember Nick fondly and vividly as a friend and compadre.
His godson Jasm will never forget that in most of the eighties he
always received a 100-peso bill from him every time they met, Christmas
time or not. More importantly, our now 22-year old son honors him
and is proud of him as a source of inspiration.
Most important of all, Nick Joaquin will always be remembered as
a national artist by the Filipino people. His works are a shining
part of the cultural heritage. We mourn his demise and at the same
time we celebrate his brilliant contributions to Philippine literature.
