|

Kirsty Thorpe profiles Romy Tiongco
How often do you come across someone who is really ready to lay down their life
for their friends? Romy Tiongco is such a person – someone who makes an
indelible impression on those he meets, a theologian who is also good with his
hands, a deep thinker and a challenging speaker who believes in putting the
gospel into action in his life. And this means he’s a man who courts danger too,
so much so that his personal safety may depend on his story being told as it is
here.
Born and brought up in the Philippines, where he worked originally as a Jesuit
priest, Romy has often walked the fine line between Christian activism and
outright political involvement. During his time as a priest, he saw that the
biggest problem facing his community was the violence and hatred between
Christians and Muslims, due to the land rights effect of on poor rural people.
In the 1980s, having left the priesthood, he co-founded MuCAARD (Muslim
Christian Agency for Advocacy Relief and Development) with his wife, Linda, a
British aid worker, and Muslim and Christian Filipino co-workers. It was and is
a pioneering aid agency, unique for bringing together people from different
races and both sides of the faith divide in the Philippines to combat poverty.
considerable personal risk
When President Corazon Aquino’s transitional government succeeded the fallen
Marcos regime in 1986, Romy served nine months as mayor of Damulog, his home
town on the island of Mindanao about 500 miles south of Manila. It was a further
step of political activism, which Romy undertook as a short term measure, and at
considerable personal risk.
Then he and Linda came to live in Britain, to bring up their children Aisha and
Zac in Frodsham near Chester, and work for Christian Aid in the North West of
England. Romy became a familiar figure in the region, well known around the
churches and the United Reformed Church District Councils for his campaigning
work on behalf of the poor and his talent for catching the eye, as when he rode
a bicycle rickshaw through the centre of Chester in the Lord Mayor’s Parade.
Retirement a couple of years ago gave Romy the chance to pursue a long held
dream of returning to his homeland to run an ethical and ecological timber
project, helping local people. Not for him a quiet life of gardening and gentle
voluntary work, much though he loves his family and his home in Cheshire.
poor people trust him
But, as so often in Romy’s life, one thing led to another and before he knew it
the call came to get involved in local Philippines politics again as a candidate
for mayor of Damulog. Activists persuaded Romy that poor people would trust him
to stand as someone who took their side against the endemic corruption in the
region, represented for many folk in the person of the existing mayor Fortunato
Gudito.
He and several like minded people agreed to form an independent political group,
with Romy’s lifelong friend Rogelio Estudillo as its organiser, to stand for the
council together. Romy’s willingness to stand encouraged others to think that
local politics could be different and they could be a part of changing things.
Looking back on that decision Romy reflected later: ‘All the “little” people of
Damulog wanted me to run. Some even said that their prayers had been finally
answered. But I got no support from the “powerful ones”.’
It was when Rogelio was drawing in the final member of their ten candidate team
that things began to get nasty. On January 4 he and Romy exchanged text messages
and had a couple of mobile phone conversations. Rogelio was confident that a
week later, when Romy got back to Damulog, the full line-up of candidates would
be complete.
At 7.30 that evening, Romy heard that Rogelio had been shot dead at his home. He
knew that his friend had received earlier threats on his life, and had been
warned that Romy was also a target, though Rogelio had dismissed this as crude
psychological warfare. In the wake of the shooting four of the candidates
received night time visits from armed men. Three men in a taxi cab were said to
be on the look out for Romy himself.
As he returned to the town and gave an emotional press conference two of the
political candidates had already backed out and another had gone to ground.
Meanwhile the police had begun investigating the killing as a crime of passion,
or the work of a business rival, ignoring the probable political motivation for
it.
a few are standing up
Romy says: ‘I now understand why Rogelio became the political organiser of the
group and worked so hard to get a political line-up established by 13 January
2007. He was the head, hands, body and feet of the emerging group. I now
understand better why the immediate effect of his murder was a dramatic
crippling of the group.
But I was taught that “the blood of martyrs is the seed of the church”. In this
light, the new political ticket that arose from Rogelio’s “ashes” is not
surprising. Many were scared – are scared – but a few are standing up and taking
on the cause and challenge.’
In the wake of the January murder Romy drew on his familiar campaigning skills,
and the potential power of publicity, to bring about non-violent change. Friends
and supporters in Britain were enlisted to send demands for a fair and open
investigation of the murder to the regional governor, police chief and district
attorney. Other appeals for democracy and openness have gone to the President,
Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, the Philippines Embassy in Britain and the Melo
Commission, a body set up by the Philippines government to investigate political
killings.All this outside pressure seems to have borne fruit. The police now have
suspects for the murder, though they’re no nearer tracing the paymasters who
hired the killers. It could be that progress has been made because the
government in Manila impressed on the local law enforcers that unsolved murders
like this may cause international embarrassment.
Romy returned to the Philippines last month, following a few weeks in this
country with family and friends. He joined a full team of fellow candidates for
the local elections on May 14, reassuring the supporters he left behind here
that their pressure had greatly increased his personal survival chances.
His parting message spelled out his feelings about returning to this daunting
challenge: ‘I don’t want to become the Mayor of Damulog – I don’t want to be
Mayor – in the way I wanted to buy a farm with Rob and plant trees. I wanted to
go back to Damulog to enjoy a quiet life in the farm and also spend time to help
strengthen MuCAARD.
‘On one level, it does not make sense why I am leaving behind a comfortable and
safe present and future and taking all the risks in running for Mayor at the 14
May elections. But it follows the pattern of most of my adult life that I didn’t
make decisions based on my personal gains and losses.’
When he first decided to run, he says now, he calculated his personal chances of
avoiding death as 25%. Today he thinks those odds have been totally reversed as
the result of outside support, and his likelihood of surviving the campaign
stands at 80%.
Still, in the Philippines the prospect of having a fair, clean and non-violent
election can never be taken for granted. Within days of filing his candidacy a
few months ago Romy’s campaign headquarters was subjected to an attempted raid
by the Mayor’s men, one of whom even pulled a gun on a farmer protecting the
place, though thankfully the weapon failed to fire.
the
politics of patronage
Though it goes against the grain, Romy now makes sure he and his Vice Mayoral
candidate colleague are never alone and his personal whereabouts are known to
one person only. The team has now been adopted by a national party, which also
gives them greater protection, and is recruiting up to 100 women and men to form
a ‘peace brigade’ to protect the candidates during the last fortnight of the
campaign, when the danger of violence is at its worst. Supporters in Britain are
raising fund for this protection group.
Romy declares himself totally committed to the task of trying to break what he
calls the ‘politics of patronage’ in his homeland. He knows the risks he is
taking but embraces them as part of the realities of life in his journey
following Jesus.
Back at home in Frodsham, his wife Linda explains to those who ask why she let
Romy go how it never occurred to her that she should stop him. ‘I knew what he
was like when I married him,’ she adds, speaking as someone who knows first hand
the passion and commitment that drive him to face this sort of risk.
Romy’s own take on things is to say: ‘Love sometimes demands “letting go” - to
allow the beloved to be.’ All those who support and admire his courageous
actions, and those of his colleagues in Damulog, hope and pray that events don’t
require him to ‘let go’ of life itself in the process of making his stand for
democracy and the needs of the poor.
Kirsty Thorpe is the Convenor of the Communications Committee
|