Dirty Harry: A Tribute to the Legacy of Mayor Fred Lim

Adios, ‘Dirty Harry.’

“Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, and who is neither tarnished nor afraid.” — Raymond Chandler

By rite and out of respect, we honor those recently passed with praise for their accomplishments. For a statesman like Alfredo Siojo Lim, who died on August 8 at age 90, there is no shortage in that regard. From the Manila slums, this orphan rose to become one of the most heavily-decorated police officers in the city’s history, boasts of having raised the meager salaries of agents as Director of the National Bureau of Investigation, worked on a strong law and order program as a two-time Mayor of Manila, Philippines, and enacted key legislation on the floor of the Senate of the Phillipines — a colorful public life that shaped five decades of local and national governance, leaving an unimpeachable legacy of discipline, integrity and honesty rarely seen in today’s public officials.

While I was already well-aware of his exploits as a no-nonsense police officer, I remember first crossing paths with this esteemed gentleman during a courtesy call, fresh from his election victory as a newly-elected Mayor of Manila in 1992. Being a new member of JCI Manila (formerly, Manila Jaycees) then, I belonged to a small group of “Baby Jaycees” tasked with a gargantuan undertaking of painting all the six main vehicular underpasses of the City of Manila for the first time. Together with Club President Eros Kaw, we sought his customary blessing and support. A perfunctory, 15-minute reception turned out to be an engaging, two-hour storytelling session of his extraordinary exploits as a policeman. Underneath his stern — almost detached — demeanor, I saw the personification of a bona fide law enforcement officer who genuinely valued the dignity of his uniform in dispensing the sworn duty he made to God and country.

I could never forget the incident he relayed when he, as police captain in the sixties, earned the ire of the Vice-Mayor for arresting his son for illegal possession of firearms who promptly stripped him of his rank and demoted him to the traffic beat. Notwithstanding the indignity that befell him, he soldiered on for several years, assisting pedestrians and directing traffic at the center of Divisoria, with nary a word or whimper.

We met again a few years later, when he was being feted by JCI Philippines (formerly, Philippine Jaycees) as one of the “Hall of Fame” honorees of “The Outstanding Policemen of the Philippines (TOPP)” — for being one of the first recipients of this prestigious distinction way back in 1967, the award launch's maiden year. It was during Mayor Lim’s watch as chief of the Western Police District that earned him and his men the reputation of being “Manila’s Finest.”

The erstwhile Mayor’s success in his endeavors epitomized the perfect balance between handling two interchangeable lives — one as a public servant and the other, as a civic leader. Among the myriad roles in both spheres, he cherished his stay with the Rotary Club of Manila the most, having considered the organization as his “second home.” He served as the Club’s Sergeant-At-Arms for many years and even chaired several Rotary projects, the latest of which was his “Womb to Tomb” program — incorporating the services of six city-run hospitals that provided free medical services for the most indigent; as well as two colleges offering free tuition for the city’s poorest students — among his chief indelible legacies that he established when he was Mayor. Little did I know that the most recent Rotary meeting that he attended in December of last year — when this picture was taken — would be his last.

All told, the name Mayor Alfredo Siojo Lim shall forever be remembered as that decorated police officer who was tough on crime. His reputation earned him the moniker "Dirty Harry," after the Clint Eastwood character in the famous film series about a cop who was ruthless against criminals. As Manila Mayor, he was known for his efficiency in dealing with felons and suspected drug dealers. Long before President Rodrigo Duterte administration’s "war on drugs," he had his own highly publicized battle with narcotics, with shaming tactics that included spray painting the homes of known or suspected drug pushers or users. He closed down the city’s red-light districts and instituted curfews meant to deter lawlessness. Among his many strengths was discipline, which he enforced, especially as the city’s chief executive, at the risk of losing his popularity.

For his colleagues at Rotary, however, “Fred” — even more than for most great men of his generation — these sometimes fabled accomplishments are difficult to separate from the real person. “The law applies to all or to none at all” was the rallying cry he repeated time and again: a cry that reflected his immutable core for justice to every man. Indeed, in every trial and triumph, in his battle for survival in local politics, in his dogged pursuit of peace and order, and all he served on the front lines of civic service — whether in battle to defend democracy or in combat to preserve the honor at the risk of personal glory, Fred Lim will always be remembered for his admirable professionalism, irreproachable integrity, and laser-like vision that placed him on a league entirely of his own.

Maraming, maraming salamat po, Mayor Fred S. Lim, ang aming “Dirty Harry ng Bayan." Adios.