As Juan Ponce Enrile, best known for his role in leading the military mutiny that led to the so-called “EDSA Revolution” that finally toppled the first Marcos Administration, was laid to rest last week, so did the birth anniversary of another EDSA personality pass totally unnoticed, except by kith and kin. 

That man was Salvador H. Laurel. Former senator, former member of the Batasang Pambansa, former secretary of Foreign Affairs, former Vice President and — for a month or so — Prime Minister of the Republic.

He was born on 19 November 1924 to a long line of illustrious public servants. His grandfather, the first Sotero Laurel, was a delegate to the Malolos Convention. His father was, of course, the President of the Philippines during the Japanese occupation. In his family tree were a Speaker of the House (J.B. Laurel), a senator (the second Sotero), governors, a vice governor, several congressmen. His was a pedigree destined for greatness. And greatness was his, if not in the manner he envisioned it.

Toiling his whole life to become President after his father — in the same manner that a Roxas and an Osmeña had failed, but a Macapagal, Aquino and Marcos succeeded — Doy (as he was fondly called) made himself eminently qualified. 

With a keen mind and a doctorate in laws from Yale University, he made all the right moves. He was elected senator, joined the opposition when martial law was declared, was elected a member of Parliament in 1978, but resigned to form the opposition group Nationalist Democratic Organization (UNIDO), which was the biggest and best organized opposition party when Ninoy Aquino was assassinated in 1983 — making Laurel the most logical choice to replace Marcos should the opportunity present itself. 

In addition, he was good-looking, an excellent orator, a talented singer and he played the violin excellently. He was also father to Cocoy Laurel, a popular matinee idol. It was a perfect fit, and in 1985, when Marcos Sr. called for snap elections, Malacañang was well within his reach, considering the massive discontent against the then Palace occupants.

But it was not in the stars. Corazon Aquino, whose only qualification was that she was the widow of Ninoy, was urged by vested interests to step up to the plate of the Presidency after having previously endorsed Laurel. At first, Doy would not budge from the ambition he had nurtured since he was a young man. It appeared that a divided Opposition was doomed against the Marcos juggernaut.

Then, at a most crucial moment in our nation’s life, Doy made the ultimate sacrifice, consistent with his life’s slogan of “Ang Bayan Higit Sa Lahat” (The Nation Above All). He agreed to slide down to Vice President. Doubtless, it must have been an excruciatingly painful decision. But then, the rest is history. Had Doy not done so, a divided political opposition then could not have plausibly made a charge of election fraud against Marcos. 

Thus, no “People Power,” no “revolutionary government,” no 1987 Constitution, etc. Doy’s singular sacrifice changed our country’s history.

Truly, for the Philippines, then, it was Doy or Die. It was a great honor to have worked for him. May our nation never forget the great debt of gratitude we owe to the man aptly named Salvador — Savior.