History
History
History
CROSSROADS (Toward Philippine Economic and Social Progress) - Gerardo P. Sicat (The Philippine Star) -
September 22, 2015 - 10:00am
On Sept. 21, 1972, President Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law and ruled as dictator through
presidential decrees. He was elected president in 1965 and re-elected in 1969.
On Jan. 17, 1981, he lifted martial law and replaced it with a parliamentary government with the
Batasang Pambansa (or a unicameral National Assembly) to pass laws. When he declared a snap
presidential election in 1986 to gain a national vote of confidence under this setup, Mrs. Corazon Aquino
was able to challenge him.
As the votes were being counted, the EDSA People Power uprising forced Marcos into political exile and
brought Mrs. Aquino to the presidency.
The quotes below are excerpts that I reprint fully from my recent book, Cesar Virata: Life and Times
Through Four Decades of Philippine Economic History, University of the Philippines Press, 2014, pp. 352-
354. (Note: Cesar Virata became prime minister only after the lifting of martial law.)
For ease of reading, I revise these quotes by breaking the paragraphs into shorter ones and introducing
short headers to guide the discourse.
* * *
Martial law changed the institutional framework of political contests. The formal opposition that used to
be lodged in the Congress and the Senate was considerably weakened with the abolition of both
chambers. Much of the opposition had therefore gone underground or undercurrent. New political
factors complicated the framework of government.
Election. When Marcos took hold of the nation’s political agenda from 1965 to the 1970s, he was in the
prime of health. As a political leader, he guided the nation through dangerous times and had managed to
make sound decisions that helped to control the nation’s destiny.
Towards the second half of the 1970s, three factors made his control of events more difficult. Some was
due to political mistakes he made. His failing health might have been a cause of these mistakes.
As he began to assess his mortality, he had to deal with the problem of succession. The most important
mistake was that he felt he could postpone addressing this problem or micromanage its course.
Succession issue: a dictator’s primary mistake. If there was any single decision that caused the
proceeding years to become more politically turbulent, it was his choice regarding the succession issue
to Philippine leadership.
As a leader he had to look beyond his lifetime. And his decision was very shortsighted. The exercise of
dictatorial powers is a potent and seductive drug.
The succession issue blinded him to that corner of decision-making where self-interest – the need to
perpetuate power – came into conflict with the needs of the nation. It was essential for the country to
have a succession process that was orderly, transparent, and politically stabilizing.
Thus, he hesitated to allow for a transparent and reasonably fair succession process. This was to prove to
be Marcos’s fatal weakness in controlling the government.
The ambiguity of his moves in the succession process were evident in his failure to clearly identify a
second person in command of the government, who could take over in the event of his death or
incapacity.
The transitional nature of the political system according to the 1973 Constitution was left undefined in
view of the martial law government. This constitution adopted a British-style parliamentary system.
But as martial law progressed and Marcos contemplated a return to normalcy, he veered toward revising
this suspended provision toward the French model of a presidential-parliamentary system. Under such a
set-up, a strong executive would be in charge of the government, which was also run under
parliamentary lines.
Interim national assembly is elected. In 1978, Marcos created the unicameral interim Batasang
Pambansa, a legislative assembly that assisted in the making of laws. The members were selected on the
basis of regional representation during a national election.
Marcos resurrected many of the old politicians who chose to join him in the Kilusang Bagong Lipunan –
the New Society movement that displaced the traditional political parties. The interim Batasang
Pambansa, although nationally elected through the various regional groupings of the country, included a
few appointed members who were mainly the technocrats he decided would continue to hold their
positions in the Cabinet.
He had hoped that through the regional choices of the members, the parliament would be able to rise
above the usual local concerns and take on wider socio-economic and political viewpoints in creating
policies.
The perception the law-making body projected, however, was of a rubber stamp assembly under a one-
man rule. The Cabinet continued to be mainly composed of technocrats. But the head of the
government was still Marcos as president and prime minister.
Although the interim Batasang Pambansa had a senior officer, the Speaker, it was clear Marcos remained
in control of the nebulous succession issue. In short, this process simply delayed the process of creating
a clear line of political succession.
He was biding for time to build up a true successor, but he was not looking at any of his political
lieutenants. It was clear from the steps he took by the middle of the 1970s that he was waiting for Mrs.
Marcos to grow in political stature and influence. This situation favored the promotion of a political
future for Mrs. Marcos, who would at this time rise to political prominence when she was appointed
governor of Metropolitan Manila.
The Marcos children were too young during that time to take on administrative responsibilities and there
was no question it would take years before they themselves could assume a political mantle.
Changing political equation. Two other factors were important in changing the political equation that
would redefine the allocation of resources within the economy.
The first of these was the armed rebellion in Mindanao and the growing challenge of the communist NPA
(New People’s Army). These two forces would become major distractions. Political, military and even
foreign policy issues would be complicated by the recurrent problems arising from the insurgency.
Finally, there was a growing consolidation of the anti-Marcos opposition. Stemming from the traditional
source of opposition to the government, the major actors were exiled from the country and began
building a constituency in the United States. This opposition tried its best to build around the Philippine
community in America and undercut the support that the US government provided to Marcos.
Prominent among this group were politicians and opponents who went on political exile, including
Benigno Aquino Jr. and Eugenio Lopez. Through its actions, it could be seen the major concern of this
group was a restoration of democracy.
E-mail: [email protected]. Visit this site for more information, feedback and
commentary: http://econ.upd.edu.ph/gpsicat/
The Bistro Group partners with Globe Digital Ventures to boost loyalty program
<
>
Philstar
LATESTTRENDING
2 hours ago
Grab Philippines on Friday said it will ask the country’s competition watchdog to reconsider its penalty
on the ride-hailing...
BUSINESS
4 hours ago
The country’s financial system managed to sustain its “strong performance” in the first semester of the...
BUSINESS
8 hours ago
National government debt bloats to P7.16-trillion in September
The Philippine government’s outstanding debt ballooned as of end-September, the Bureau of the
Treasury reported on...
BUSINESS
8 hours ago
Asian markets were mixed Friday as trade tensions and geopolitical worries kept investors from tracking
a rebound on Wall...
BUSINESS
20 hours ago
Share prices suffered heavily yesterday with the Philippine Stock Exchange index spiralling down below
the 7,000 mark a...
BUSINESS
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse the site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
After experiencing years of positive growth, the Philippine economy between 1973 and 1986suffered a
downturn due to a mixture of domestic and international problems. Those were the years the country
was under Ferdinand Marcos and martial law, witnessed the assassination of Benigno Aquino, Jr., saw
changes to the Philippine energy law,[clarification needed] and the popularity of the EDSA People Power
Revolution.
President Ferdinand E. Marcos declared martial lawin the midst of rising student movements and an
increasing number communist and socialist groups lobbying for reforms in their respective sectors.
Leftists held rallies to express their frustrations to the government, this restiveness culminating in
the First Quarter Storm, where activists stormed Malacañang Palace only to be turned back by
the Philippine Constabulary.[when?] This event in particular left four people dead and many injured after
heavy exchanges of gunfire. There was further unrest, and in the middle of the disorder on 21
September 1972, Marcos issued Proclamation No. 1081, effectively installing martial law in the
Philippines, a declaration that suspended civil rights and imposed military rule in the country.
Marcos defended his actions stressing the need for extra powers to quell the rising wave of violence
allegedly caused by the communists. He further justified the decree citing the provisions from
the Philippine Constitution that martial law is in fact a strategic approach to legally defend the
Constitution and protect the welfare of the Filipino people from the dangerous threats posed by
vigilantes that place national security at risk. The emergency rule, according to Marcos’s plan, was to
lead the country into what he calls a “New Society”.
The move was initially supported by most Filipinos and viewed by some critics as a change that would
solve the massive corruption in the country. Indeed, it[clarification needed] ended the clash between the
executive and legislative branches of the government and a bureaucracy characterized by special
interests. The declaration, however, eventually proved unpopular as excesses, continued corruption,
and human rights abuses by the military emerged.
Macroeconomic indicatorsEdit
GLOBAL
A Damaged Culture
Our Asia correspondent offers a dark view of a nation not only without nationalism but also without
much national pride
A New Philippines?
In the united states the coming of the aquino government seemed to make the Philippines into a success
story. The evil Marcos was out, the saintly Cory was in, the worldwide march of democracy went on. All
that was left was to argue about why we stuck with our tawdry pet dictator for so long, and to support
Corazon Aquino as she danced around coup attempts and worked her way out of the problems the
Marcoses had caused.
var google_casm=[];
This view of the New Philippines is comforting. But after six weeks in the country I don’t think it’s very
realistic. Americans would like to believe that the only colony we ever had—a country that modeled its
institutions on ours and still cares deeply about its relations with the United States—is progressing under
our wing. It’s not, for reasons that go far beyond what the Marcoses did or stole. The countries that
surround the Philippines have become the world’s most famous showcases for the impact of culture on
economic development. Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Singapore—all are short on natural resources,
but all (as their officials never stop telling you) have clawed their way up through hard study and hard
work. Unfortunately for its people, the Philippines illustrates the contrary: that culture can make a
naturally rich country poor. There may be more miserable places to live in East Asia—Vietnam, Cambodia
—but there are few others where the culture itself, rather than a communist political system, is the main
barrier to development. The culture in question is Filipino, but it has been heavily shaped by nearly a
hundred years of the “Fil-Am relationship.” The result is apparently the only non-communist society in
East Asia in which the average living standard is going down.
(function(){var aa="function"==typeof Object.create?Object.create:function(a){function b()
{}b.prototype=a;return new b},m;if("function"==typeof
Object.setPrototypeOf)m=Object.setPrototypeOf;else{var p;a:{var ba={j:!
0},q={};try{q.__proto__=ba;p=q.j;break a}catch(a){}p=!1}m=p?function(a,b)
{a.__proto__=b;if(a.__proto__!==b)throw new TypeError(a+" is not extensible");return a}:null}var
t=m,u=this,v=Date.now||function(){return+new Date};function w(a,b,c)
{a.addEventListener&&a.addEventListener(b,c,!1)}function x(a,b,c)
{a.removeEventListener&&a.removeEventListener(b,c,!1)};var ca=Array.prototype.indexOf?function(a,b)
{return Array.prototype.indexOf.call(a,b,void 0)}:function(a,b){if("string"==typeof
a)return"string"==typeof b&&1==b.length?a.indexOf(b,0):-1;for(var c=0;ce?
encodeURIComponent(va(a,b,c,d,e+1)):"...";return encodeURIComponent(String(a))}function M(a,b,c,d)
{a.a.push(b);a.b[b]=ua(c,d)}function xa(a,b,c,d){b=b+"//"+c+d;var e=ya(a)-
d.length;if(0>e)return"";a.a.sort(function(a,b){return a-b});d=null;c="";for(var f=0;f=l.length){e-
=l.length;b+=l;c=a.c;break}else a.f&&(c=e,l[c-1]==a.c&&--c,b+=l.substr(0,c),c=a.c,e=0);d=null==d?
h:d}}a="";null!=d&&(a=c+"trn="+d);return b+a}function ya(a){var b=1,c;for(c in a.b)b=c.length>b?
c.length:b;return 3997-b-a.c.length-1};function za(a,b,c,d){if(Math.random()Math.random())}function
Fa(a)
{a&&O&&P()&&(O.clearMarks("goog_"+a.uniqueId+"_start"),O.clearMarks("goog_"+a.uniqueId+"_end")
)}Ea.prototype.start=function(a,b){if(!this.a)return null;var c=Ba()||Aa();a=new
Ca(a,b,c);b="goog_"+a.uniqueId+"_start";O&&P()&&O.mark(b);return a};function Ga(){var
a=R;this.c=Ha;this.f=this.b;this.a=void 0===a?null:a}function Ia(a,b,c,d,e){try{if(a.a&&a.a.a){var
f=a.a.start(b.toString(),3);var h=c();var g=a.a;c=f;if(g.a&&"number"==typeof c.value){var k=Ba()||
Aa();c.duration=k-c.value;var l="goog_"+c.uniqueId+"_end";O&&P()&&O.mark(l);g.a&&g.b.push(c)}}else
h=c()}catch(n){g=!0;try{Fa(f),g=(e||a.f).call(a,b,new U(V(n),n.fileName,n.lineNumber),void 0,d)}catch(y)
{a.b(217,y)}if(!g)throw n;}return h}function Ja(a,b,c,d,e){var f=Ka;return function(h){for(var
g=[],k=0;kvu("https://securepubads.g.doubleclick.net/pcs/view?
xai\x3dAKAOjsvhexOKDd1TWXnPYl7JJorgse-sF4kSlexFi6ohgZL9nN5lC2cUe88yy-JiuOmHvvvMEx90f--
SwyNPoqvnZ_sf5Tnf5XpVyr1ajSf1qPEROQ8VJo2ZwBw9mU7lxo30t4vGR32jRk1DXbbDw1qGTzweKavgDx7
fEE1JhpUZfQyUXMsGxAOoknyvlfT0_jdhPx7l6koTcMh2KCxOEyMyCOjCZ_LyYrmD48JwCO71wB_LcPC4bbvf
SAGTw9wrNexFo4mgqx3jiYk1BxppbTBQuq2vDObOSlJFq_KpEMU\x26sai\x3dAMfl-
YRk0GarrEBTxr_g8Xu9w3zcUiUDZ-jsPRSEmzrI7O4kO-
hWoobg65O5iUbN6eOnOKEaySTOexCs6SrXkOKEUQFQbeWSSk--
zgdfItzAVav9\x26sig\x3dCg0ArKJSzCkKb_IjGEkCEAE\x26urlfix\x3d1\x26adurl\x3d")
/* Hide all 1x1 pixels */ img[width="1"][height="1"] { position: absolute; bottom: 0; z-index: -100000000;
} {"uid":0.21442135148153096,"hostPeerName":"https://www-theatlantic-
com.cdn.ampproject.org","initialGeometry":"{\"windowCoords_t\":0,\"windowCoords_r\":412,\"windo
wCoords_b\":604,\"windowCoords_l\":0,\"frameCoords_t\":3915,\"frameCoords_r\":356,\"frameCoord
s_b\":4165,\"frameCoords_l\":56,\"posCoords_t\":1772,\"posCoords_b\":2022,\"posCoords_r\":356,\"p
osCoords_l\":56,\"styleZIndex\":\"\",\"allowedExpansion_r\":112,\"allowedExpansion_b\":354,\"allowe
dExpansion_t\":0,\"allowedExpansion_l\":0,\"yInView\":0,\"xInView\":1}","permissions":"{\"expandByO
verlay\":true,\"expandByPush\":true,\"readCookie\":false,\"writeCookie\":false}","metadata":"{\"shared
\":{\"sf_ver\":\"1-0-
30\",\"ck_on\":1,\"flash_ver\":\"26.0.0\",\"canonical_url\":\"https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/ar
chive/1987/11/a-damaged-culture/505178/\",\"amp\":
{\"canonical_url\":\"https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1987/11/a-damaged-
culture/505178/\"}}}","reportCreativeGeometry":false,"isDifferentSourceWindow":false,"sentinel":"1-
3110229013598646049","width":300,"height":250,"_context":
{"ampcontextVersion":"1810152207300","ampcontextFilepath":"https://3p.ampproject.net/181015220
7300/ampcontext-v0.js","sourceUrl":"https://www.theatlantic.com/amp/article/505178/#origin=https
%3A%2F
%2Fwww.google.com.ph&prerenderSize=1&visibilityState=visible&paddingTop=54&p2r=0&horizontalScr
olling=0&csi=1&aoh=15405580571770&viewerUrl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com.ph%2Famp%2Fs
%2Fwww.theatlantic.com%2Famp%2Farticle%2F505178%2F&history=1&storage=1&cid=1&cap=swipe
%2CnavigateTo%2Ccid%2Cfragment
%2CreplaceUrl","referrer":"https://www.google.com.ph/","canonicalUrl":"https://www.theatlantic.com/
magazine/archive/1987/11/a-damaged-culture/505178/","pageViewId":"3833","location":
{"href":"https://www-theatlantic-
com.cdn.ampproject.org/v/s/www.theatlantic.com/amp/article/505178/?
amp_js_v=0.1&usqp=mq331AQECAEoAQ%3D%3D#origin=https%3A%2F
%2Fwww.google.com.ph&prerenderSize=1&visibilityState=visible&paddingTop=54&p2r=0&horizontalScr
olling=0&csi=1&aoh=15405580571770&viewerUrl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com.ph%2Famp%2Fs
%2Fwww.theatlantic.com%2Famp%2Farticle%2F505178%2F&history=1&storage=1&cid=1&cap=swipe
%2CnavigateTo%2Ccid%2Cfragment%2CreplaceUrl"},"startTime":1540558146595,"tagName":"AMP-
AD","mode":
{"localDev":false,"development":false,"minified":true,"lite":false,"test":false,"version":"1810152207300"
,"rtvVersion":"011810152207300"},"canary":false,"hidden":false,"initialLayoutRect":
{"left":56,"top":1772,"width":300,"height":250},"initialIntersection":
{"time":7200.400000001537,"rootBounds":
{"left":0,"top":0,"width":412,"height":604,"bottom":604,"right":412,"x":0,"y":0},"boundingClientRect":
{"left":56,"top":-371,"width":300,"height":250,"bottom":-121,"right":356,"x":56,"y":-
371},"intersectionRect":
{"left":0,"top":0,"width":0,"height":0,"bottom":0,"right":0,"x":0,"y":0},"intersectionRatio":0},"domFinger
print":"2680692333","experimentToggles":
{"canary":false,"expAdsenseA4A":false,"a4aProfilingRate":false,"ad-type-custom":true,"amp-access-
iframe":true,"amp-apester-media":true,"amp-ima-video":true,"amp-playbuzz":true,"chunked-
amp":true,"amp-auto-ads":true,"amp-auto-ads-adsense-holdout":false,"amp-auto-ads-adsense-
responsive":false,"version-locking":true,"as-use-attr-for-
format":false,"a4aFastFetchDoubleclickLaunched":false,"a4aFastFetchAdSenseLaunched":false,"pump-
early-frame":true,"amp-live-list-sorting":true,"amp-sidebar toolbar":true,"amp-consent":true,"amp-
story-v1":true,"expAdsenseUnconditionedCanonical":false,"expAdsenseCanonical":false,"faster-bind-
scan":true,"font-display-swap":true,"amp-date-picker":true,"linker-meta-opt-in":true,"url-replacement-
v2":true,"user-error-reporting":true,"no-initial-intersection":true,"no-sync-xhr-in-
ads":true,"doubleclickSraExp":false,"doubleclickSraReportExcludedBlock":false,"inabox-
rov":true,"ampdoc-closest":false,"linker-form":true},"sentinel":"1-3110229013598646049"}}"
height="250" width="300" data-amp-3p-sentinel="1-3110229013598646049" allow="sync-xhr 'none';"
frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" allowtransparency="" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0"
marginheight="0" class="i-amphtml-fill-content" id="google_ads_iframe_2" style="box-sizing: inherit;
border: 0px !important; margin: auto; padding: 0px !important; display: block; height: 250px; max-
height: 100%; max-width: 100%; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; width: 300px; transform: translate(-
50%, -50%); top: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; bottom: 0px; right: 0px;">
Now a few disclaimers. Some things obviously have gotten better since Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos
fled the country at the end of February last year (though most Filipinos seem to think that the threats to
the Aquino government—of which the worst was the bloody August coup attempt—imperil such
progress as the country has made). Not so much money is being sucked out at the top. More people are
free to say what they like about the government, without being thrown in jail. Not so many peasants are
having their chickens stolen by underpaid soldiers foraging for food, although the soldiers, whose pay
has been increased, are still woefully short on equipment and supplies.
MORE STORIES
The Tiny Blond Bible Teacher Taking on the Evangelical Political MachineEMMA GREEN
The economy has stopped shrinking, as it had been doing in the late Marcos years, and some rich
Filipinos have brought capital back home. I was not in the Philippines during the Marcos era and can’t
compare the atmosphere firsthand, but everyone says that the bloodless dethroning of Marcos gave
Filipinos new dignity and pride. Early this year, on the first anniversary of the “EDSA revolution” (named
for Epifanio de los Santos Avenue, where many of the crucial events took place), television stations ran
round-the-clock replays of all the most emotional moments: the nuns’ attempts to protect the ballot
boxes, the defection of Marcos’s two main military supporters, Juan Ponce Enrile and Fidel Ramos, the
abortive swearing-in of Marcos, his sudden disappearance in an American helicopter. It was inspirational
and moving and heroic, and as late as this summer, just before the attempted coup, some of the same
atmosphere remained. Filipinos are famous for their love of religious icons. A visitor would have to be
blind not to see the religious element in Corazon Aquino’s public role. Stores sell small Cory dolls with
bright yellow dresses and round-rimmed glasses. They’re not exactly icons, but I’ve seen them displayed
in homes and cars as if they were. Even when beginning to grumble about her government, many
Filipinos speak of Cory's goodness, patience, and piety in tones that suggest they think of her as a
secular, widowed Blessed Virgin, and as the only person with even the potential to hold the country
together.
Each weekday evening, get an overview of the day’s biggest news, along with fascinating ideas, images,
and people.
Sign Up
Democracy has returned to the Philippines, in a big way. As if to make up for all the years when they
could not vote, Filipinos have been analyzing the results of one election and preparing for another
almost nonstop since early last year. Election disputes have returned too. For three months after the
legislative elections last May, long recounts dragged on to determine whether Juan Ponce Enrile,
Marcos’s former Defense Minister, whose switch to Aquino helped topple Marcos, would get one of the
twenty-four seats in the Senate. Senators are elected nation-wide, in what often resembles a popularity
contest. Among the new senators is a Charles Bronson—style action-movie star; Enrile is about as well
known as the actor, and though he has made many enemies, most foreigners I spoke with found it hard
to believe that in an honest vote count he would have lost to everyone on Aquino’s list of nominees,
which included a number of newcomers and nobodies. Finally, in August, he squeaked in as number
twenty-four.
Democracy has unleashed a Philippine press so varied and licentious as to make even Americans feel
nervous—or rather, to recall standing in grocery check-out lines looking at Midnight and Star.
Newspapers are always starting up and closing, but at any given time Manila has at least twenty dailies,
most of them in English. Each paper features its stable of hardworking star columnists, any of whom is
capable of turning out 2,000 to 3,000 words of political commentary and inside gossip—the equivalent
of a whole American op-ed page—in a single day. Philippine politics has a small-town feel, because so
many of the principals have known one another all their lives. This adds to the velocity and intensity of
gossip—especially the rumors of impending coups, which have cropped up every week or ten days since
Aquino took power, and which preoccupy political Manila the way scandals preoccupy Washington.
One final disclaimer: it can seem bullying or graceless for an American to criticize the Philippines. Seen
from Manila, the United States is strong and rich. Seen from anywhere, the Philippines is troubled and
poor. Why pick on people who need help? The Filipino ethic of delicadeza, their equivalent of saving
face, encourages people to raise unpleasant topics indirectly, or, better still, not to raise them at all. Out
of respect for delicadeza, or from a vague sense of guilt that the former colony is still floundering, or
because of genuine fondness for the Filipino people, the United States tolerates polite fictions about the
Philippines that it would ruthlessly puncture if they concerned France or even Mexico. I don’t pretend
that my view of the Philippines is authoritative, but I’ve never before been in a country where my initial
impressions were so totally at odds with the standard, comforting, let’s-all-pull-together view. It seems
to me that the prospects for the Philippines are about as dismal as those for, say, South Korea are bright.
In each case the basic explanation seems to be culture: in the one case a culture that brings out the
productive best in the Koreans (or the Japanese, or now even the Thais), and in the other a culture that
pulls many Filipinos toward their most self-destructive, self-defeating worst.
vu("https://securepubads.g.doubleclick.net/pcs/view?xai\x3dAKAOjsv4oqVJN9QlVdw-
9O6rHyhHMOUsNMFMiJat4i8h7QwbK0jzeQstMzOb14R7kceeWdra01rlx_vPHhllhwTzRmDmZH-
I4DypT5c6OM3oghb9t9bsVPypYngwKaYF2S9KSViV0A6YVu2IpJQfBVSMuqRFPVha4-
aX1EtSJD_AJduJ_TqeOlYG1qst3lNXNDleXmi1C6im3T_IXjzMZIAwQiVAW7uKqcCleopm031YzdT9cnav3lNZK
GoYRnDcgT6hjSe8J3uII5Bp0XES2dxY-Vg4r_-Z4VoVaUAAkQ\x26sai\x3dAMfl-YR87tuGeTK-
Ma2DbopyVVXpwtOFHKrm3wPcPf8nGPNVQz9khFFj8xkgdBCyVZaN4uAoAP2N2giC1eI2bRe_PfTz-
7dOPaVbqqC3Q8LArYPN\x26sig\x3dCg0ArKJSzOagQiund1XxEAE\x26adurl\x3d")div{margin:0;padding:0;
}.abgcp{height:15px;padding-right:1px;padding-top:1px;padding-left:9px;padding-
bottom:13px;right:0px;top:0px;position:absolute;width:15px;z-
index:2147483646;}.abgc{display:block;height:15px;position:absolute;right:1px;top:1px;text-
rendering:geometricPrecision;z-index:2147483646;}.abgb{display:none;height:15px;}.abgc,.abgcp,.jar
.abgc,.jar .abgcp,.jar .cbb{opacity:1;}.abgs{display:none;height:100%;}.abgl{text-decoration:none;}.abgs
svg,.abgb svg{display:inline-block;height:15px;width:auto;vertical-align:top;}.abgc .il-wrap{background-
color:#ffffff;height:15px;white-space:nowrap;}.abgc .il-wrap.exp{border-bottom-left-radius:5px;}.abgc .il-
text,.abgc .il-icon{display:inline-block;}.abgc .il-text{padding-right:1px;padding-
left:5px;height:15px;width:74px;}.abgc .il-icon{height:15px;width:15px;}.abgc .il-text
svg{fill:#000000;}.abgc .il-icon svg{fill:#00aecd}
var
abgp={imi:false,hw:15,sw:96,hh:15,sh:15,himg:'https://tpc.googlesyndication.com'+'/pagead/images/ab
g/icon.png',simg:'https://tpc.googlesyndication.com'+'/pagead/images/abg/en.png',alt:'Ads by
Google',t:'Ads
by',tw:34,t2:'Google',t2w:38,tbo:0,att:'adsbygoogle',ff:'',halign:'right',fe:false,iba:false,lttp:false,ci:'',nc:1,
ufdj:undefined,opi:false,opai:false,ti:false,mob:true,eaca:false,eda:false,fdda:false,eisa:true,ulf:false,swc:
false,aeol:false,abe:false,nsli:false,dnc:false,nju:false,anju:false};
Consider first the overall economic picture. Officials in both South Korea and the Philippines have
pointed out to me that in the mid-1960s, when the idealistic (as he then seemed) Ferdinand Marcos
began his first term as President, the two countries were economically even with each other, with similar
per capita incomes of a few hundred dollars a year. The officials used this fact to make very different
points. The Koreans said it dramatized how utterly poor they used to be (“We were like the Philippines!”
said one somber Korean bureaucrat), while to the Filipinos it was a reminder of a golden, hopeful age. It
demonstrated, they said, that the economy had been basically robust until the Marcoses launched their
kleptocracy. Since the 1960s, of course, the Philippines has moved in the opposite direction from many
other East Asian countries. South Korea’s per capita annual income is now about $ 2,500—which gives
the country a low-wage advantage over Japan or the United States. That same income makes Korea look
like a land of plenty relative to the Philippines, where the per capita income is about $600. The average
income in the Manila area is much higher than that for the country as a whole; in many farming regions
the per capita income is about $100. The government reports that about two-thirds of the people in the
country live below the poverty line, as opposed to half in the pre-Marcos era. There are technical
arguments about where to draw the poverty line, but it is obvious that most Filipinos lack decent houses,
can’t afford education, in some areas are short of food, and in general are very, very poor. The official
unemployment rate is 12 percent, but if all the cigarette vendors, surplus bar girls, and other
underemployed people are taken into account, something like half the human talent in the country must
be unused.
The triumph of the peaceful People Power Revolution and the ascension of Corazon Aquino to the
Philippine presidency signaled the end of authoritarian rule in the Philippines and the dawning of a new
era for the nation. The relatively peaceful manner by which Aquino came into power drew international
acclaim and admiration not only for her but for the Filipino people, as well.
During the first months of Aquino's presidency, the country experienced radical changes and sweeping
democratic reforms. One of Aquino's first and boldest moves was the creation of the Presidential
Commission on Good Government (PCGG), which was tasked to go after the Marcos ill-gotten wealth;
however, the PCGG itself was also implicated by corruption scandals after her presidency after it was
alleged that officials wanted a cut of Marcos' assets and officials were "milking" sequestered assets.[1][2]
[3]Aquino, being a revolutionary president by virtue of people power, repealed & abolished repressive
laws under her predecessor, restored civil liberties, abolished the 1973 "Marcos Constitution" and
dissolved the Marcos allies, loyalists, supporters-dominated Batasang Pambansa, despite the advice of
her vice-president and only prime minister Salvador Laurel. She also immediately created a
Constitutional Commission, which she directed for the drafting of a new constitution for the nation.
On the over-all, the Aquino administration made important gains in the aspects of bringing back
democracy, restoring investor confidence in the economy and enacting legal and constitutional reforms.
Despite these achievements, her presidency faced several threats from both right-wing military elements
and extreme left-wing communist rebels. Further, her administration dealt with numerous problems
such as major natural disasters which struck the country and severe power shortages which took a toll
on doing business in the Philippines. It was also during her tenure that the United States finally ended its
military bases and presence in the country
But for all her unquestioned sincerity and good intentions, there are signs of growing pessimism about
her ability to handle the country's problems. The euphoria that accompanied her "people's power
revolution" has largely given way to a sense that these problems may overwhelm her in the difficult
times ahead.
Her government increasingly is perceived to be floundering amid the wreckage left by the disastrous
administration of deposed president Ferdinand Marcos. But it is also weighed down with problems of its
own making. While she holds the middle ground and does her best to referee infighting in her fractious
26-member Cabinet, centrifugal forces inexorably are pulling apart her unwieldy coalition, riven by
multiple party loyalties, ideological differences and personality clashes.
Compounding her problems have been new gains by the radical left, the questionable loyalty of some
elements in the military, the failure of the business community to make anticipated investments, a
volatile labor situation, nationwide feuding over the appointment of more than 1,600 governors and
mayors, and the likelihood that the Aquino government will not have effective control of the future
Congress.
This assessment is based on interviews with government officials, military officers, communist rebels,
church leaders, diplomats and a variety of other sources in different parts of the country over the last
several months.
"Part of the problem is that Cory, having been brought to power as a sort of symbol who presides over
warring groups, is not inclined to interfere with squabbles because she wants to be above it all," said a
Cabinet minister. "She knows she is very popular, but the danger is that all these squabbles might engulf
her."
He added: "There's no doubt that everywhere Cory has gone, she has charmed people. She's honest and
conducts herself in a high moral tone. But will she end up like Jimmy Carter?"
Similar expressions of concern have been aired by other prominent Aquino backers, notably the
archbishop of Manila, Cardinal Jaime Sin. The spiritual leader of this predominantly Roman Catholic
country, the only Christian nation in Asia, Sin was instrumental in mobilizing the church to support the
military-led "revolution" that drove Marcos into exile in Hawaii.
"Disunity shows its very ugly head," Sin said in a recent homily aimed at bickering government officials.
"The gains of the revolution are little by little being lost."
Like Sin, many of those who have criticized Aquino's government desperately want her presidency to
succeed. "I'd like to see her make it; I really would," said one western military attache. "But she's
surrounded by tigers and crocodiles."
In an interview Tuesday, Aquino did not deny that pessimism about her government's unity has set in,
but she renewed appeals for patience and understanding.
"I guess there were very great expectations," she said. "Many people believed that in the short space of
six months, many of our problems would be solved. I guess this has disappointed some of them." On the
other hand, she added, many Filipinos "realize that with the enormity of our problems and our limited
resources, government cannot really act as fast as it would like to in solving these problems." She
indicated that she was banking heavily on increased foreign investment to generate more employment.
Aquino also complained that some of her problems were being exaggerated by an unshackled local
press. Manila alone now has 24 scoop-hungry daily newspapers, which compete for circulation totaling
only about 2 million.
Indeed, a case can be made for the optimism publicly expressed by the Reagan administration and other
U.S. officials, such as Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chairman Richard G. Lugar (R-Ind.), who
visited here in August.
Having been vaulted into political prominence by the 1983 assassination of her husband, opposition
leader Benigno Aquino Jr., the former housewife clearly has been "growing in the job" and steadily
acquiring more confidence as the Philippines' seventh president.A Reputation for Honesty
Marcos loyalists still have a potential for disruption and outbursts of violence against the Aquino
government, but they pose no serious threat of overthrowing it. The deposed Marcos, who turned 69
Thursday, has been reduced to a grating voice in the Hawaiian wilderness, issuing dire warnings that
World War III will erupt in the Philippines unless he returns to power. Equally implausibly, his wife,
Imelda, now complains that Aquino is wearing one of the 3,000 pairs of shoes she left behind in
Malacanang Palace.
Besides showing greater self-confidence, Aquino has upheld her reputation for common sense, honesty
and integrity -- virtues generally agreed to be badly needed in the country today following the Marcos
era. And, as much as she says she harbors no ambition for power, Aquino expresses a determination to
succeed.
"I am not one to give up very easily," she said in the interview."
Yet, a wide range of sources agree, the reasons for pessimism about her government these days
outweigh the positive factors.
In the interview, Aquino said she was a member of no political party, although she ran for president
under the banner of her vice president's party. She has spurned suggestions from supporters that she
form her own party, explaining that "there are enough political parties and I do not want to add more
confusion."
Some supporters fear that this disdain for dirtying her hands in politics will further undermine the
effectiveness of her government when Filipinos vote in local and legislative elections set for next year.
"In effect, she is abdicating the political leadership, and this will have very dangerous repercussions in
Congress," said the mayor of a large provincial city. "Being an apolitical person, she cannot conceptualize
the need for a political organization to support her presidency.
he most pressing problem in the Philippine international political economy at the time Aquino took
office was the country's US$28 billion external debt. It was also one of the most vexatious issues in her
administration. Economists within the economic planning agency, the National Economic and
Development Authority (NEDA), argued that economic recovery would be difficult, if not impossible, to
achieve in a relatively short period if the country did not reduce the size of the resource outflows
associated with its external debt. Large debt-service payments and moderate growth (on the order of 6.5
percent per year) were thought to be incompatible. A two-year moratorium on debt servicing and
selective repudiation of loans where fraud or corruption could be shown were recommended. Business-
oriented groups and their representatives in the president's cabinet vehemently objected to taking
unilateral action on the debt, arguing that it was essential that the Philippines not break with its major
creditors in the international community. Ultimately, the president rejected repudiation; the Philippines
would honor all its debts
In 1986 Corazon Aquino focused her presidential campaign on the misdeeds of Marcos and his cronies.
The economic correctives that she proposed emphasized a central role for private enterprise and the
moral imperative of reaching out to the poor and meeting their needs. Reducing unemployment,
encouraging small-scale enterprise, and developing the neglected rural areas were the themes.
Aquino entered the presidency with a mandate to undertake a new direction in economic policy. Her
initial cabinet contained individuals from across the political spectrum. Over time, however, the cabinet
became increasingly homogeneous, particularly with respect to economic perspective, reflecting the
strong influence of the powerful business community and international creditors. The businesspeople
and technocrats who directed the Central Bank and headed the departments of finance and trade and
industry became the decisive voices in economic decision making. Foreign policy also reflected this
power relationship, focusing on attracting more foreign loans, aid, trade, investment, and tourists.
Democratic institutions were introduced to the Philippines by the United States at the beginning of the
twentieth century. The apparent success of these imported practices gave the Philippines its reputation
as "the showcase of democracy in Asia." Before 1972 the constitutional separation of powers was
generally maintained. Political power was centralized in Manila, but it was shared by two equally
influential institutions, the presidency and Congress. The checks and balances between them, coupled
with the openness of bipartisan competition between the Nacionalista and Liberal parties, precluded the
emergence of one-person or one-party rule. Power was transferred peacefully from one party to another
through elections. The mass media, sensational at times, fiercely criticized public officials and checked
government excess.
In 1986, Aquino became the first woman to be president of the Philippines, and for that TIME named her
its Woman of the Year.
/aquino.html
Marcos inflicted immeasurable damage on democratic values. He offered the Filipino people economic
progress and national dignity, but the results were dictatorship, poverty, militarized politics and a
politicized military, and greatly increased dependence on foreign governments and banks. His New
Society was supposed to eliminate corruption, but when Marcos fled the country in 1986, his suitcases
contained, according to a United States customs agent, jewels, luxury items, and twenty-four gold bricks.
Estimates of Marcos's wealth ran from a low of US$3 billion to a high of US$30 billion, and even after his
death in 1989, no one knew the true value of his estate, perhaps not even his widow.
If Marcos had been merely corrupt, his legacy would have been bad enough, but he broke the spell of
democracy. The long evolution of democratic institutions, unsatisfactory though it may have been in
some ways, was interrupted. The political culture of democracy was violated. Ordinary Filipinos knew
fear in the night. An entire generation came of age never once witnessing a genuine election or reading a
free newspaper. Classes that graduated from the Philippine Military Academy were contemptuous of
civilians and anticipated opportunities for influence and perhaps even wealth. Marcos's worst nightmare
came true when Corazon Aquino used the power of popular opinion to bring him down.
Aquino inherited a very distorted economy. The Philippines owed about US$28 billion to foreign
creditors. Borrowed money had not promoted development, and most of it had been wasted on
showcase projects along Manila Bay, or had disappeared into the pockets and offshore accounts of the
Marcos and Romualdez families and their friends and partners. Many Filipinos believed that they would
be morally justified in renouncing the foreign debt on grounds that the banks should have known what
the Marcoses were doing with the money. Even Cardinal Jaime Sin declared it "morally wrong" to pay
foreign creditors when Filipino children were hungry. Aquino, however, resolutely pledged to pay the
debt. Otherwise, the nation would be cut off from the credit it needed. Although the Philippines could
pay the interest on the debt every year, it could not pay the principal. This never-ending debt naturally
inflamed Filipino nationalism. A Freedom From Debt Coalition advocated using the money to help the
unemployed instead of sending the hard currency abroad.
Back to top
She was born in 1933 into one of the richest clans in the Philippines, the powerful Cojuangcos of Tarlac
Province. Her maiden name indicates Chinese mestizo ancestry; her Chinese great-grandfather's name
could have been romanized to Ko Hwan-ko, but, following the normal practice of assimilationist Catholic
Chinese-Filipinos, all the Chinese names were collapsed into one, and a Spanish first name was taken.
Aquino neither sought power nor expected it would come to her. Her life was that of a privileged, well-
educated girl sent abroad to the Ravenhill Academy in Philadelphia, the Notre Dame Convent School in
New York, and Mount St. Vincent College, also in New York. She studied mathematics and graduated
with a degree in French in 1953, then returned to the Philippines to study law, but soon married the
restless, rich scion of another prominent Tarlac family, Benigno ("Ninoy") Aquino, Jr. Benigno Aquino
became a mayor, a governor, and a flamboyant senator, and he probably would have been elected
president of the Philippines in 1973 had Marcos not suspended elections. On the same night in 1972
when Marcos declared martial law, he sent troops to arrest Benigno Aquino. Senator Aquino was
incarcerated for some seven years, after which Marcos allowed him to go to the United States. In August
1983, believing that Marcos was dying, Aquino ventured back to Manila and was gunned down just
seconds after being escorted from the airplane Aquino's murder galvanized the Filipino people and was
the beginning of the end for Marcos.
Back to top
Ferdinand Marcos had perfected the art of ruling by dividing his enemies: scaring some, chasing others
out of the country, playing one clan against another, and co-opting a few members of each prominent
provincial family. The "oppositionists," as the controlled Manila press called them, were never united
while Marcos was in Malacañang, and only through the intervention of Cardinal Jaime Sin did they agree
on a unified ticket to oppose Marcos in the "snap election" that the ailing dictator suddenly called for
February 1986. The widow Aquino had public support but no political organization, whereas the old-line
politico Salvador H. "Doy" Laurel had an organization but little popular support. After difficult
negotiations, Laurel agreed to run for vice president on a ticket with Aquino. Aquino won on February 7,
1986, but the margin of victory will never be known, for the election was marred by gross fraud,
intimidation, ballot box stuffing, and falsified tabulation.
Aquino had to perform a delicate balancing act between left and right, within society at large and later
within her own cabinet. Aquino and Laurel triumphed in good part because of the defection of Enrile,
who was then minister of defense, and Fidel V. Ramos, the acting Armed Forces of the Philippines chief
of staff. Both men had served Marcos loyally for many years but now found themselves pushed aside by
General Fabian Ver, Marcos's personal bodyguard and commander of the Presidential Security
Command. They risked their lives defying Marcos and Ver at the crucial moment. Enrile and Ramos
conceived of the new government as a coalition in which they would have important roles to play. Laurel
saw it the same way.
In one sense, the Aquino government initially was a coalition--it drew support from all parts of the
political spectrum. The middle class was overwhelmingly behind "Cory," the democratic alternative to
Marcos. Most leftists saw her as "subjectively" progressive even if she was "objectively" bourgeois. They
hoped she could reform Philippine politics. On the right, only those actually in league with Marcos
supported him. Aquino's support was very wide and diverse.
The coalition, however, began unraveling almost immediately. Enrile thought that Aquino should declare
her government "revolutionary," because that would mean that the 1986 elections were illegitimate and
that new presidential elections would be held soon. When Aquino made it clear that she intended to
serve out her entire six-year term, Enrile and Laurel set out to undermine her. Ramos took a cautiously
ambivalent position but ultimately supported Aquino. Without his loyalty, Aquino would not have
survived the many coup attempts she successfully put down.
Aquino's political honeymoon was brief. Arturo Tolentino, Marcos's running mate in the February
election, proclaimed himself acting president on July 6, 1986, but that attempt to unseat Aquino was
short-lived. By October 1986, Enrile was refusing to attend cabinet meetings on the grounds that they
were "a waste of the people's money." Aquino fired him the next month, after he was implicated in a
coup plan code-named "God Save the Queen" (presumably because the conspirators hoped to keep
Aquino on as a figurehead). The plotters were suppressed, and on the morning of November 23, Aquino
met with her entire cabinet, except for Laurel, who was playing golf. She asked for the resignations of all
other members of her cabinet and then jettisoned those leftists who most irritated the army and
replaced Enrile with Rafael Ileto as the new minister of national defense. Aquino started a pattern,
repeated many times since, of tactically shifting rightward to head off a rightist coup.
Enrile was out of the government, but Laurel remained in, despite his vocal, public criticism of Aquino.
She relieved him of his duties as minister of foreign affairs on September 16, 1987, but could not remove
him from the vice presidency. A month later, Laurel publicly declared his willingness to lead the country if
a coup succeeded in ousting Aquino. The next year, he told the press that the presidency "requires a
higher level of competence" than that shown by Aquino.
The disintegration of the original Aquino-Laurel-Enrile coalition was only part of a bigger problem: The
entire cabinet, government, and, some would say, even the entire nation, were permeated with
factionalism. Aquino also had difficulty dealing with the military. The first serious dispute between
Aquino and the military concerned the wisdom of a cease-fire with the New People's Army. Aquino held
high hopes that the communists could be coaxed down from the hills and reconciled to democratic
participation if their legitimate grievances were addressed. She believed that Marcos had driven many
people to support the New People's Army.
"Whatever else happens in her rule," said TIME, "Aquino has already given her country a bright, and
inviolate, memory. More important, she has also resuscitated its sense of identity and pride." Despite
repeated coup attempts and a mixed record of success, Corazon Aquino remained in office for more than
six years. She was succeeded as president by longtime supporter Fidel Ramos when she did not seek
reelection in 1992, and she retains her popularity with the Filipino people.
Source: http://
www.time.com/time/poy2001/photo/
aquino.html
The Philippine military, which had been fighting the guerrillas for seventeen years, was hostile to her
policy initiative. When talks began in September 1986, military plotters began work on the "God Save the
Queen" uprising that was aborted two months later. Aquino tried reconciliation with the Moro National
Liberation Front and sent her brother-in-law to Saudi Arabia, where he signed the Jiddah Accord with the
Moro National Liberation Front on January 4, 1987. A coup attempt followed three weeks later. In the
wake of these coup attempts, Aquino reformed her cabinet but she also submitted to military demands
that she oust Executive Secretary Joker Arroyo, a political activist and her longtime confidant. Her legal
counsel, Teodoro Locsin, whom the military considered a leftist, and her finance secretary, Jaime Ongpin,
also had to go. (Ongpin was later found dead; the coroner's verdict was suicide, although he was
lefthanded and the gun was in his right hand.)
Aquino had been swept into office on a wave of high expectations that she would be able to right all of
the wrongs done to the Philippines under Marcos. When she could not do this and when the same
problems recurred, Filipinos grew disillusioned. Many of Aquino's idealistic followers were dismayed at
the "Mendiola Massacre" in 1987 in which troops fired into a crowd of protesting farmers right outside
Malacañang. The military was simply beyond her control. The entire staff of the Commission on Human
Rights resigned in protest even though Aquino herself joined the protestors the next day. Those people
who hoped that Aquino would liberally use emergency power to implement needed social changes were
further dismayed by the fate of her promised land reform program. Instead of taking immediate action,
she waited until the new Congress was seated, and turned the matter over to them. That Congress, like
all previous Philippine legislatures, was dominated by landowners, and there was very little likelihood
that these people would dispossess themselves.
Aquino's declining political fortunes were revealed in public opinion polls in early 1991 that showed her
popularity at an alltime low, as protesters marched on Malacañang, accusing her of betraying her
promises to ease poverty, stamp out corruption, and widen democracy. Nevertheless, Aquino's greatest
achievement in the first five years of her term was to begin the healing process.
Back to top
Philippine politics between 1986 and 1991 was punctuated by President Aquino's desperate struggle to
survive physically and politically a succession of coup attempts, culminating in a large, bloody, and well-
financed attempt in December 1989. This attempt, led by renegade Colonel Gregorio Honasan, involved
upwards of 3,000 troops, including elite Scout Rangers and marines, in a coordinated series of attacks on
Camp Crame and Camp Aquinaldo, Fort Bonifacio, Cavite Naval Base, Villamor Air Base, and on
Malacañang itself, which was dive-bombed by vintage T-28 aircraft. Although Aquino was not hurt in this
raid, the situation appeared desperate, for not only were military commanders around the country
waiting to see which side would triumph in Manila, but the people of Manila, who had poured into the
streets to protect Aquino in February 1986, stayed home this time. Furthermore, Aquino found it
necessary to request United States air support to put down this uprising.
Politically this coup was a disaster for Aquino. Her vice president openly allied himself with the coup
plotters and called for her to resign. Even Aquino's staunchest supporters saw her need for United States
air support as a devastating sign of weakness. Most damaging of all, when the last rebels finally
surrendered, they did so in triumph and with a promise from the government that they would be treated
"humanely, justly, and fairly."
A fact-finding commission was appointed to draw lessons from this coup attempt. The commission
bluntly advised Aquino to exercise firmer leadership, replace inefficient officials, and retire military
officers of dubious loyalty. On December 14, 1989, the Senate granted Aquino emergency powers for six
months.
One of the devastating results of this insurrection was that just when the economy had finally seemed to
turn around, investors were frightened off, especially since much of the combat took place in the
business haven of Makati. Tourism, a major foreign-exchange earner, came to a halt. Business leaders
estimated that the mutiny cost the economy US$1.5 billion.
Back to top
The political widow and former housewife led a revolution that restored power to the people in the
Philippines and inspired millions across Asia
By SANDRA BURTON
To the dismay of the soldier who was driving Corazon Aquino to her swearing-in ceremony in 1986, the
housewife who would be President insisted on stopping at red lights to let civilian traffic pass. Eager to
signal a break from the past, she chose to abandon the imperial-style motorcades of Ferdinand and
Imelda
Marcos. Although the military high command was quick to quash that egalitarian notion as an
unacceptable security risk, she found countless other ways during her six years in office to drive home
the message that distinguished her from the dictator she had toppled: she owed her power to the
people. Aquino was still at it on the day in 1992 when she rode away from the inauguration of her
successor, Fidel Ramos, not in a government-issue Mercedes, but in the simple white Toyota Crown she
had purchased to make the point that she was once again an ordinary citizen.
Aquino's achievements as President ranged far beyond the symbolic. They were substantial--even
revolutionary. She restored the democratic institutions Marcos had destroyed, presided over the
promulgation of a constitution designed to be dictator-proof, freed political prisoners, launched a peace
process that eliminated communist and Muslim insurgencies as major threats to national stability, and
laid the foundations for economic recovery.
Yet it is her slight, bespectacled embodiment of People Power--at once fragile and invincible--that
defines her hold on history. Her determination to "lead by example" helped restore Filipinos' faith in
government--and themselves. Beyond the archipelago, her ability to overcome force without resorting to
violence made her a role model for an ever-lengthening line of women leaders--Violeta Chamorro,
Benazir Bhutto, Chandrika Kumaratunga, Khaleda Zia, Megawati Sukarnoputri, Aung San Suu Kyi--who,
like her, were thrust into public life by the violent fates that befell husbands and fathers.
In the beginning Cory Aquino did not seem like the prototype for a new breed of democrat, much less a
trailblazing woman. Sure, she knew about democracy, having come of age in the newly independent
Philippines and worked as a volunteer in Thomas Dewey's 1948 presidential campaign during her college
days in New York. Later, as the wife of Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino Jr., a charismatic politician whose
popularity doomed him to become Marcos' best-known political prisoner, she learned firsthand the thrill
of electoral victory and the agony of martial law. Ninoy's 1983 assassination on his return to Manila from
exile in the U.S. catapulted her out of his shadow and into the spotlight. But she lacked the self-
confidence to take up his fight to restore democracy on her own.
When I met her shortly after Ninoy's funeral, she was under the illusion that as soon as public curiosity
about her waned, she could retreat to the privacy of her old life and fight Marcos from the sidelines.
Little did she--or anyone--foresee the potential power of her role as a widow. Despite her growing
influence within the opposition, she refused to think of herself as a political leader. She rejected appeals
to run for office and made light of her ability to help elect others. "It's very simple," she would say in her
sweetly self-deprecating way. "I just tell my sad story, and people weep."
Not until late 1985, when Marcos suddenly called a "snap" presidential election in an attempt to
capitalize on opposition disarray, did Cory finally acknowledge that she alone could unite the anti-Marcos
forces and transform the race into a political morality play. This revelation came to her after 10 hours of
meditation at the convent of the Sister-Servants of the Holy Spirit of Perpetual Adoration, not far from
Manila. "We had to present somebody who is the complete opposite of Marcos, someone who has been
a victim," she concluded. "Looking around, I may not be the worst victim, but I am the best-known."
Once she believed the Lord was on her side, she could pursue even the most impossible mission with
serene confidence. Yet to assume that she proceeded on faith alone was to underestimate her, as I
discovered on the last leg of her campaign for the presidency. All day I watched her work her magic on
the mammoth crowds. I shared her view that she could win the vote. But what, I asked, led her to
believe Marcos would let her win the count? During our late-night flight back to Manila, she stunned me
by confiding that she had recently received a delegation of reformist military officers who had pledged in
secrecy to support her in the likely event that Marcos rigged the vote. "I think the military will come into
the picture if they perceive gross irregularities will be committed," she said bluntly.
Within days history confirmed the strength of her faith and the quality of her military intelligence.
Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and Deputy Chief of Staff Fidel Ramos mutinied against Marcos,
claiming massive electoral fraud. When Marcos forces threatened to retaliate, the influential Archbishop
of Manila, Jaime Cardinal Sin, broadcast an appeal for "people power" to protect them. By the time
Marcos' tanks began rolling down a key highway, which bore the inspired name Epifanio de los Santos
(EDSA for short, after a Filipino hero), toward the defectors' camp, hundreds of thousands of Filipinos
had gathered to pray the rosary and stop them in their tracks. In four days the so-called "Miracle of
EDSA" swept Cory into power with the backing of the victorious rebels and whisked Marcos off to exile in
Hawaii.
The hard part began as soon as she took office. To survive seven coup attempts by disgruntled military
elements within her makeshift coalition, Aquino was forced to transcend her conciliatory nature and
steel herself to make unpopular decisions. Her defining moment came when forces identified with Enrile
threatened to topple her if she fulfilled her campaign promise to negotiate with the communist
guerrillas. Typically, she dithered and prayed. But then, in a move that marked her coming of age as a
leader, she cemented her relationship with General Ramos, fired Enrile, announced a controversial
ceasefire with the insurgents and calmly took the heat. Six years later, after both the communists and
the coup-plotters had been marginalized, she made one of the least popular--but most responsible--
decisions of her career. Defying her core supporters in the liberal community and the Catholic Church,
she endorsed Ramos, an architect of martial law and a Protestant, as the candidate best equipped to
restore stability and promote economic recovery.
Then, Ninoy's mission accomplished, Cory retired with a clear conscience to play with her grandchildren,
write her memoirs and paint landscapes as sunny as her outlook. She also pioneered a new role as ex-
head of state, something nearly unprecedented in Asia, where leaders rarely left office voluntarily or
alive. Commuting regularly to a family-owned office building in the heart of Metro-Manila's Makati
business district, she directs a portfolio of projects aimed at furthering the spread of Asian democracy
from the bastions of the middle class where it began to the villages it has barely reached. No longer shy
about courting controversy, she has played host to visiting groups of oppositionists-in-exile and delivered
a speech smuggled out of Burma in the name of opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi. She has also
extended a public podium to Wan Azizah Ismail, who--shades of the young Cory--is struggling to fill the
political shoes of her jailed husband, Malaysia's ex-Deputy Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim.
"I tell them I don't have any formula for ousting a dictator or building democracy," says the former
housewife who managed to do both. "All I can suggest is to forget about yourself and just think of your
people. It's always the people who make things happen." Provided, of course, they have a leader who
can touch their hearts.
Source: Time Asia TIME 100: August 23-30, 1999 Vol. 154 No.
7/8 <http://www.time.com/time/asia/asia/magazine/1999/990823/aquino1.html>
Back to top