Magsaysay legacy: A leader’s role is to keep hope alive

“My Guy, Magsaysay”
by Jess Sison
Full Circle Communications, 2001


William Shakespeare -- in “As You Like It” -- wrote: “All the world’s a stage, / And all men and women merely players: / They have made their exits and entrances.”

Leaders throughout human history are a fascinating study, especially charismatic leaders who would rise to the occasion at a defining moment in a country’s history.

In contemporary history, there is Nelson Mandela, the leader who spent almost half of his lifetime behind bars, but who emerged larger than life, united his people in South Africa, proved the truism that “one man with courage is a majority,” and ended apartheid in his country.

Lech Walesa of Poland, a charismatic labor leader, fired the imagination – not only of workers – but of the entire citizenry, thirsting for democracy and freedom. He articulated the fondest hopes of the Polish people, and the latter rewarded him with the Presidential post.

Close to home, we have, of course, former Senator Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino whose lifelong opposition to dictatorship and whose death at the airport tarmac after “a shot that was heard around the world,” inspired the EDSA revolution that ended two decades of dictatorship. But, Ninoy never became President – unlike Mandela and Walesa.

But one Filipino charismatic leader became President, in what many political observers termed a “brief shining moment in the Philippine presidency.” It was all-too-brief because, on December 30, 1953, Ramon Magsaysay became President of the Philippines. On March 17, 1957, this much-loved leader died in a plane crash in Mt. Manunggal, Cebu, abruptly ending a Presidential watch, which has now become the stuff of legends.

The life and times of the late President have been chronicled in our history books, but such accounts only succeed in a caricature of the leader, depicting him on broad strokes or placing him within the backdrop of a specific historical period.

Thankfully, Jess Sison, former press secretary during the Ramos Presidency and my senior in community journalism, dug deep into his treasure chest of stories about Magsaysay and came up with gems and nuggets of stories in his book, “My Guy, Magsaysay.” The author has told these colorful anecdotes on many occasions, but I didn’t realize the stories would cover all of 141 pages in this elegant book.

Magsaysay was a master in image building. The author’s account tells much about the late President’s style: “During the campaign for presidency in 1953, Ramon Magsaysay became famous for jumping over canals. He had pictures every now and then in the newspapers showing him jumping over this or that canal. What people did not know was that, every time he jumped over a canal and the camera did not flash, he would retrace his steps … until the camera flashed.”

Off camera, Magsaysay was his charming self. Sison narrates an account when the President abruptly stopped a five-car Presidential motorcade – and asked the woman tending the store if she had some 7-Up (his favorite drink). There was an instant meeting beside the sari-sari store among wide-eyed barrio folk, hearing the President promising them that the gates of the Presidential palace would be open for them.

Magsaysay the guy truly endeared himself as the “common man’s hero.” One time, narrates the author, the President was speaking before a crowd in Cabanatuan City, and the rain fell. Instantly, someone opened an umbrella for “The Guy,” but he threw it away. A raincoat was offered, but was similarly rejected. And Magsaysay said in Filipino: “Why will I cover myself with a raincoat when you are all soaking wet … If you will get wet, I will also get wet. If you will get sick, I will also get sick like you.” A thunderous ovation followed, the author narrates.

Who wouldn’t fall in love with a leader like that, a natural – not those more recent leaders who only succeed in strutting about as poor copycats?

An analysis from an expert on leadership, Richard Hughes, illuminates Magsaysay’s incredible appeal. He said, “Transformation leaders are charismatic in that they are able to articulate a compelling vision of the future and form strong emotional attachments with followers … they form strong emotional bonds.”

Anecdotes abound from the memory of Jess Sison who, at age 23, was already a close-in reporter of Magsaysay. That explains why the stories have a sense of immediacy. The book is a well-planned and edited piece of literature, starting off with a photo essay and ending with that poignant photo where Magsaysay was tying his shoelace. The caption says it all, gripping our heart:

“A few hours before he died in a plane crash … President Ramon Magsasay ties his shoelace.” I would have added that he was preparing for an appointment with destiny.

If you miss the kind of Presidency that has real mass appeal, not the one contrived by a former actor, this book gives you a personal account of someone who was there while such Presidency was being shaped. The pictures show the young Jess Sison as truly an eyewitness to a leadership that has become legend.

People may debate the substance and style of the Magsaysay Presidency, but no one can dispute that “in one brief shining moment,” Filipinos knew how it felt to be heard, loved and backslapped by a leader who did not only master the art but who truly had the heart for the masses, as Jess Sison puts it.

Some may believe Harry S. Truman, former American President, when he said: “The President is a glorified public relations man, who spends his time flattering, kissing and kicking people to get them to do what they are supposed to do anyway”

But those who love Magsaysay, and those who miss his leadership would embrace this statement from John W. Gardner: “A prime function of a leader is to keep hope alive.”

The Shakespearean line ends: “And one man plays his part.” Magsaysay’s part was to show how to keep the flame of hope alive. From this our present leadership must take its lessons.