
The Wizard Of Rice
By Frank A Hilario
He is also a self-made man, an Ilocano. That’s what I read in his first book, titled SRO / Dare to Build, recently published by the Philippine Rice Research Institute (PhilRice). Most people know him with his initials, SRO, and he likes it like that. Even the International Rice Research Institute (IRRI) recognizes him as a great man of science and of management rolled into one. Today, in the science of crops and administration, say ‘SRO’ and it rings a bell. The ring tone is one of passion, compassion, pride, humility, excellence. Yes, he is all that. I like the book, I like the man behind the book.
In his fertile mind, he dreamed of a world-class science campus. PhilRice is what it became. In his bare hands, he molded the men, like a potter his clay, to the image and likeness of what he thought they should be. He succeeded. Mightily. Today, the staff of PhilRice continue to win awards and recognition. Based in the far-flung Science City of Muñoz in
With Jean D, the woman behind the book, he has written his autobiography, the story of an idealistic farm boy who was nourished on the milk of honesty, the bread of hard work, the salt of persistence, the sugar of love, the dessert of visioning, the wine of an iron will. Man and woman make a perfect pair. It was a difficult book to write (it took Jean six months, she says), as SRO is difficult to accept, to understand. ‘You got to hate him to like him,’ says Leo Sebastian, the current Executive Director of PhilRice, and one of SRO’s protégés. Borrowing from Frank L. Baum’s book The Wizard of Oz, Leo is a horse of a different color.
A Horse Of A Different Color
SRO has always been a horse of a different color. If some boys think of becoming President some day, this boy dreamed of becoming a great scientist. He failed. He became a great manager instead.
Management is 4 of 4, not just 1, and SRO knew that the whole of management is greater than the sum of its parts, even if he didn’t know the name of those 4 parts. Management is planning – he had the vision, and he held onto it with heart despite the hurt. Management is leading – his were the creativity and the initiative, and he pushed more than he pulled. Management is organizing – he pursued team work like crazy. Management is controlling – he trained and visited and inspected everyone, everything.
He was an intellectual terrorist, as he himself admits in Chapter Four. I know; I worked for him too. Did you like what he was doing? I did not, no, but he insisted on doing the right thing in the right way, even if it was not in the way you liked.
He was not perfect. PhilRice’s Roger Barroga knows, he who is a wizard himself, of computer networks. I should know. I was a Research Fellow of PhilRice Maligaya (in Muñoz, Nueva Ecija) for a year (1997? I forget) and I lived with him and slept in the same house (Director’s Cottage) and ate the same food and rode the same car coming from and going back to Los Baños every week. (Thanks for the ride, Sir.) I was there as a writer. By that time, I was already in love with the computer. For many months, I tried to convince him to buy a computer, desktop or laptop, to be assigned to me. For as many months, he demurred. I didn’t know it then, but one of his major hesitations (his word, in the Prologue) was on the use of computers as a production tool, beyond spreadsheets, beyond occasional desktop-publishing of reports. Inside the Director’s Office, I was using someone else’s desktop computer while he was using the desktop typewriter. I didn’t mind his typewriter, but I minded that I did not have a computer assigned to me. I don’t write – I type. If you want to make me unhappy, banish me to a wonderful land where there are no computers. Out of frustration, and yet to avoid any confrontation, I left without saying goodbye to him, to anyone. I never returned. I never called. I was mad inside. I wasn’t perfect either.
Many years later, I met him again, at PhilRice Los Baños. I was walking toward him and when he saw me; suddenly he turned to his companion and said, ‘You know, it’s only now that I realize we need the computer.’ It was his way of saying, ‘I’m sorry.’ I smiled. I had forgiven him long before that. Nonetheless, I admired him for that because he was already retired and his remark could not have made me go back to work. Saying sorry is never too late.
As a man, he loves you, he loves you not. As a book, SRO / Dare To Build is an ambivalent read too, like that. In his heart SRO knows he loves you, but you don’t – the man with the will of iron comes on more strongly than the man with the heart of gold. Pure gold, I can say now. Golden dreams. Dreams of empire – empires of the mind. I will now quote one of his favorites, Winston Churchill: ‘The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.’ With rice, we are in the future now. Thanks to him (SRO, not Churchill), we are almost 100% self-sufficient in rice!
In his book, he says he was building men. In fact, he was building minds. It’s the attitude that counts. He was building your attitude of excellence. It didn’t always work – it didn’t work with Roger, it didn’t work with me – but it worked a million times, despite people like us. So what do we have today? Among other things, a PhilRice that is world-class. Like a coin, the Filipino is ambivalent, but the other side is that the Filipino is world-class, and don’t you forget it!
A Study In Fairness
SRO’s book is unique, as it is a study in fairness, as SRO’s life is: It presents an almost equal dose of the praise and dispraise. Included in the book are many brief testimonies of many of the PhilRice staff, past and present, speaking of him in fondness and fairness, frankly and honestly. With his first book, SRO makes history again.
SRO the book is ambivalent too in that it has two faces. One is that of SRO the manager telling you what ought to be done; the other is that of SRO the man telling you a compelling little story of what ought to happen. Read the book! With about 120 in all, those little stories are invariably those of rough diamonds being hewn to brilliance – if you were the diamond, you wouldn’t like it until it’s all over and you see your brilliance in the mirror of your mind.
You must read the whole book, not just some parts. To understand, if not to accept, you must know the whole story. The whole story of SRO is one of dreams being pushed to transform themselves into reality as fast as possible – so, push, push, push. That was SRO. That is SRO still.
A Man Who Believed The Filipino Is World-Class
SRO will go down in history as the man who believed that the Filipino scientist was world-class, and lived to prove it. He is alive and well, thank you.
I know he dreams still. He dreams of transforming no less than the Department of Agriculture from dullness to luminescence, from unproductivity to productivity, from inertia to motion, from drive to a purpose-driven life.
He belongs in the top. I am the Editor in Chief of the Philippine Journal of Crop Science, and SRO knew that. Still, notwithstanding my standing, he did not ask me to edit his book; I merely did the last-2-minute editing of his book, not bossed it over him, as I would have liked. Why not? My answer is a joke, mine: ‘Why is SRO not a musician? Because he won’t play second fiddle.’ SRO will always be SRO. You love him, you love him not. I love him, I love him not.
I said he is the Wizard of Rice, didn’t I?
Two Wizards
After all the adventures and misadventures in fairyland, the one major lesson in The Wizard of Oz, the venerable story written by Baum (published in 1900), is this: In each one of us is the mustard seed of a miracle. Even if we happen to be a Cowardly Lion, in fact we have courage within us; even if we are a Scarecrow, in fact we have a brain in our head; even if we are a Tin Man, in fact we have a heart in our body – all we need to do is recognize it within ourselves and nourish it. And that’s exactly what the Wizard of Rice did – he made men (embracing women) feel with their heart, think with their brain, take risk with their courage. He made them write their individual books of life within the institutions he managed: PhilRice, Philippine Tobacco Research & Training Center,
The Wizard has written a book, 350 pages more or less. There are mistakes. There are lines written in love, lines written in angst. In the writing of books, there is no end. In the making of mistakes there is no end. In the dreaming, in the keeping of faith, in the fulfilling of dreams. In the building of men, in the building of minds, in the building of institutions. That is the world-class story of SRO. So far.
We need someone like him around. Philippine agriculture needs the Wizard of Rice. Desperately. In SRO the book you will see, as I can see him now, that SRO the man has the indefatigable mind and body. He is 69; he feels much younger. His body is at work at the Department of Agriculture; his mind is at work there and elsewhere. I am glad he will never rest in peace! –Written 29 May 2005





