ANG SEE says the "darkest phase" in her anti-crime work came during the early years of the Presidential Anti-Crime Commission (PACC), headed by then Vice President Joseph Estrada. Kidnap victims wouldn't cooperate with authorities because of either "moles" in the PACC or police officers involved in kidnapping, including Col. Reynaldo Berroya.

	TERESITA ANG SEE Photo by Lilen Uy

Although Estrada at first refused to believe Ang See when she told him about Berroya, he later made sure his "kumpare" was jailed and convicted for the kidnapping of Taiwanese businessman Jack Chou. But that was after two cars tried to drive Ang See's vehicle off a road. She received nuisance calls daily, from 11 p.m. to three a.m. Threats jammed her beeper. Military intelligence, she says, ascertained these to be Berroya's handiwork and assigned two bodyguards to her round-the-clock.

Ang See moved from house to house and traveled in borrowed cars. She restricted her children's movements and had them regularly reporting their whereabouts to her. She eventually pulled the children out of school and then spent months hiding overseas. She admits, "My kids were the ones who suffered most. I had to apologize to them (but) it's better to be paranoid rather than to be sorry. Always inside me was the fear that if something happens to me, who will take care of my kids?"

When Estrada became president, Ang See accepted the position of Presidential Anti-Organized Crime Task Force commissioner. Yet she was among the early birds at Edsa on Jan. 16, 2001, showing disgust over the decision of senators-turned-judges in Estrada's impeachment trial not to open an envelope supposedly containing information about his bank account.

Kaisa was the only Chinese-Filipino organization that went all out for Edsa 2; as in Edsa 1, many ethnic Chinese preferred the status quo and continued to back Estrada. Some even called Ang See an "ingrate."

Ang See, though, says Edsa 2 saw more Tsinoys, including those from the Chinatown schools. "There were many young people there," she says, "and we did not hear anything like what we heard in 1986 that they were under house arrest, that their parents refused to let them go to Edsa. We found them quite articulate and very much involved in this political event unlike 20 years back. I think it is a very good indicator of the success of integration: (Tsinoys) no longer separate (themselves) from mainstream concerns."

Then, barely a few days into her presidency, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo made Leandro Mendoza PNP chief and Berroya the Intelligence Group head — over the objections of anti-crime groups. Says Ang See: "I feel very much betrayed. I was expecting her (Arroyo), at least at that point, to listen to us, but she did not. That was my first big disappointment with her. That was the time when I said that enough is enough, that other people take up the cudgels because I had to protect my two children and myself."

But Ang See couldn't just walk away. Since then, each victory she scores against kidnappers has become a balm to soothe the pain of betrayal. Her work on cultural integration has also kept her spirits up. She considers the opening of the Kaisa Heritage Center, which showcases the impact of the ethnic Chinese on the Philippines, as the most tangible proof of the success of integration.

Ang See says the democratic space in the post-Marcos period sped up the process of integration and ended the days of the capitan chino, the traditional middleman between the fearful, uncertain Chinese community and the country's leaders. Today the Chinese in the Philippines identify themselves as Filipinos with a rich, proud Chinese heritage, and have gained confidence in dealing directly with mainstream society, especially the government.

"The community has grown up," says a beaming Ang See. Somewhere, Chin Ben See must be beaming, too. — Yvonne T. Chua