Cory, Betty, Max, and the milestones in my life
Tomorrow is the 17th death anniversary of “Icon of Democracy” former president Corazon “Cory” Aquino, who remains an icon of clean and honest government service. History will never unearth an incident where Cory used government funds for personal comfort or gain. For instance, she would insist on paying for her daughter’s airplane fare whenever one of them accompanied her on state and official visits. She would also foot the bill whenever she hosted gatherings of family and friends at Malacañang, such as after a commemoration of her late husband Ninoy Aquino’s death anniversary, or during a merienda following the premiere of her daughter Kris Aquino’s movie Pido Dida.
Last Tuesday was the 40th anniversary of The Philippine STAR, whose founding chairman Betty Go-Belmonte was one of Cory’s dearest friends, and whose founding publisher Max V. Soliven was a close friend of Ninoy Aquino. They were both incarcerated after the declaration of martial law in 1972.
Cory was a special guest at the inauguration of The STAR in its office in Port Area, Manila in July 1986. In one of her recollections about The STAR’s early days, Betty wrote: “I told them (her co-founders including Max and founding president lawyer Art Borjal), ‘I am for projecting the positive. And in cases where the story is negative, we should present both sides and all sides.’ They concurred.”
“I also asked, ‘I am pro-Cory, how about you’?”
“‘For as long as she has not stolen one single centavo herself, our paper will be supportive of her. However, we as columnists are free to give our own comments,’ Max said.”
During Betty’s wake in January 1994 at the Belmonte residence in Quezon City, Cory had to hold back her tears during her eulogy.
There was a significant tear in the fabric of the relationship between Cory and Max, but they reconciled in 2003, and according to the late Nelson Navarro, yours truly had a part in it. According to Nelson, I told boss Max in a “gentle voice,” “It’s time to reconcile.” I don’t know why I said it because both the former president and Max were in good health at the time.
According to Max’s biography, The Man and the Journalist, which Navarro authored, there was a secret emissary who forged the “peace talks” and it wasn’t me, though I was very happy it was going to take place. Navarro wrote:
"One beautiful afternoon after lunch, an inconspicuous van stopped in front of the restaurant (La Dolce Fontana, owned by Max’s wife Dr. Preciosa 'Precious' Soliven) and three women, Cory Aquino, Deedee Siytangco, her spokeswoman, and Joanne Ramirez came out of the vehicle.
“Welcoming them at the door was Max and his close friend and business partner Ed Carrascoso, former general manager of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Cory’s time.
“Max was beaming, and he was wearing a yellow jacket,” Joanne recalls, noting that yellow was Cory’s favorite color and her host had obviously meant to send a message of peace.
It was a brief meeting, no more than an hour or so of the usual pleasantries and polite banter among long-estranged friends anxious to bury the hatchets.
“Max, we’re all getting older,” Cory said in a soft voice. “Let’s make peace…”
According to Navarro, “Nothing more was said. No recriminations. No litany of hurts. No promises of meeting again.”
Max passed away in 2006, Cory in 2009.
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Cory, Betty, and Max all changed the course of my life.
Betty was my first boss at The STAR! monthly magazine, published in 1981. She was my editor-in-chief, and her son Isaac, who was my batchmate at the UP Institute of Mass Communications, was publisher. We were then juniors in Journalism. I believe it was from Betty that I learned to look for the positive side of my subjects, and even when flawed, looked at them as the proverbial half-filled glass.
During the snap presidential elections in 1985-1986, Isaac asked me to join Cory’s Media Bureau. When Cory became president, her lieutenants, led by Billy Esposo, asked me to be her close-in writer at Malacañang—through the exhilarating and the perilous moments. I eventually became the executive editor of the Presidential Press Staff. I covered all the seven or eight coup attempts against her administration, but I also witnessed the glory of the rock-star reception given her—whether in Dumaguete, Paris, or Washington DC.
Mrs. Aquino stepped down in 1992. I was not co-terminus with her as I had taken the Civil Service exams, so I stayed one more month in the press office of her anointed, President Fidel V. Ramos. But I got a call that was to change the course of my life again—from Betty Go-Belmonte. She asked me if I wanted to return to The STAR. Of course I said yes. It was a homecoming and marked the beginning of my twice-weekly column, “People,” which turns 34 years old next month. I thank Tita Betty and her son, STAR president and CEO Miguel G. Belmonte, for this rare privilege.
I owe Max Soliven my eventual appointment as associate editor of The STAR in the mid-‘90s and my appointment as editor-in-chief of PeopleAsia magazine for its maiden issue in 1999 until I stepped down after 26 years as editor-in-chief in January this year.
So Cory, Betty, and Max, whose own lives were intertwined, were guiding lights at a time in my life when I was charting my own path. They lit up my trajectory. My life has been informed indelibly by their guidance and influence.
Few journalists are so blessed.
Happy 40th anniversary, Philippine STAR. Happy 17th year in heaven, President Cory. And happy 34th anniversary to this column. I hope I have inspired you, my readers, by shining a light on people, with all their gifts and the rich complexities that make every person’s life worth telling.
