Legendary ‘rebel’ turns 80

Turning 80 nowadays is a big deal, especially if you are Nilo dela Cruz, the legendary rebel, warrior, revolutionary leader, freedom fighter, labor champion, always listed on top of the military’s Order of Battle, especially after President Marcos declared martial law in September 1972.

Dela Cruz turned 80 on May 28, and the man who marched into hell for the cause of freedom and labor movement had to say that the last 50 years of his life were a bonus, a great blessing.

“I thought I would not live beyond 30,” he said in a speech at his birthday celebration last Sunday at the University of the Philippines Hotel in Quezon City.

He was a rebel, or a revolutionary agitator to Marcos’ men. And mostly throughout the dark years of the dictatorship, into the Cory administration and up until the communist movement split into different parties and organizations, dela Cruz was living a life on the run while organizing labor movement. It was a time of living dangerously.

De la Cruz hails from a family of freedom fighters and labor organizers. He is the son of Lazaro “Ka Bull” Dela Cruz and wife Dolores Balgos, two of the leaders of PKP-1930, or the Partido Komunista ng Pilipinas, which was established in November 1930. His mother’s father, Mariano Balgos, likewise served in the revolutionary movement.

Born in Tondo in May 1944, Dela Cruz grew up aware of his parents’ crusade. He was called “Nil,” “Yoks,” “Quintin,” “Hepe,” or “Nilo.”

In 1966, he worked at the office of Chief Justice Roberto Concepcion, probably one of the country’s greatest justices, the man who fought decisions seeking to legitimize Marcos’ dictatorship, 1966 to 1973.

Years into adult life, dela Cruz was on the streets, if not in the mountains, denouncing the US role in the Vietnam war, fighting for the welfare of Filipino workers, and the conjugal dictatorship, among others

Until then, his family hardly saw him at home, in their company, according to a younger sister and his youngest daughter. But they understand, they said. “We knew that he had work to do,” the sister said.

But he always tried to be around, the daughter said. He once promised to bring her to the junior-senior prom school. He did not. But he showed up just the same, just outside the school’s gate. “Sorry, I tried very hard, but I came late,” she recalled him telling her. It was probably not that easy to get past military and police checkpoints.

Despite all that, the daughter has a good recollection of her childhood, with her father. She was teary-eyed recalling her childhood. Listening at a corner, he told this newsman: “I am not a bad father after all.”

His friends and colleagues from the underground and labor movement present at his birthday party greeted him in jest about his staying power.

“Too many have gone ahead,” said lawyer Arno Sanidad of people in their Marcos past. Sanidad was the defense counsel of De la Cruz and dozens of other human rights advocates.

“What will I say?” Sanidad asked, laughing. “It is very hard to talk about De la Cruz (and his contemporaries). Baka maraming makulong.”

Indeed, De la Cruz is a survivor. At 80, he has survived so many friends and former colleagues in the movement, among them Jose Ma. Sison and Filemon Lagman. Sison, the founder of the Communist Party of the Philippines, died of lingering ailment in December 2023. He was 83. Lagman died in an ambush on UP campus in February 2001. He was only 47.

Like it or not, he got all kinds of cheers and jeers during his party, especially from those he holds dear, about getting old. 

They were all there to greet him, among them former UP president Dodong Nemenzo, now in his 90s and in wheelchair, and wife Princess, Sen. Risa Hontiveros, former congressman Kit Belmonte, former Aquino officials Ronald Llamas and Henry Bacurnay.

De la Cruz’ children and wife Gina, a human rights worker, were there, too. So was his poet brother, six-time Palanca winner Levy dela Cruz.

“Nakaabot talaga siya ng 80,” said Llamas, the controversial political adviser of President Noynoy Aquino.

Indeed, the man is 80, but his mind sharp, his memory intact, and the women who came for his birthday couldn’t help say he was still good looking, seemingly unaffected by the passing of years and social climes. He was—and still is. Belmonte, another good-looking activist, told the crowd: “But not all activists are handsome.”

Hontiveros, the senator now making waves for her firm stance against the Duterte and Marcos administrations, expressed thanks that De la Cruz was still around to guide younger men and women, like her.

A video presentation of Dela Cruz’s life story was shown at the party, but his friends were quick to say too many details were missing, perhaps not for public consumption.

In his prime, Dela Cruz was the acknowledged leader and founder of Alex Boncayao Brigade, an urban hit squad named after another famous labor leader. Its members were called Sparrows, for their swift assassination operations.

Dela Cruz himself has escaped so many violent attempts in his life and probably outlived several lawsuits the government has filed against him the past many years.

This made us wonder a few years back which of the many cases filed would prosper, which would not. If it did not, the allegations only added character to the man, all becoming part of urban legend, of this stubborn freedom fighter and unrelenting labor champion.