Monday, Mar. 10, 1986
By Susan Tifft.
The men wore
loose-fitting barong tagalogs; many of the
women, designer dresses. The formality was
appropriate for a presidential
inauguration--even one called at short notice.
But the dignitaries and affluent friends
assembled at the Club Filipino in the Manila
suburb of Greenhills merely formed a splendid
backdrop for the more modestly attired guest of
honor. Clad in a simple yellow dress, Corazon
("Cory") Aquino, 53, could hardly have imagined
this moment three months ago, when her
improbable quest for the Philippine presidency
began. Her voice was calm and steady as she
recited the presidential oath, her hand resting
on a leather-bound Bible. "I am taking power in
the name of the Filipino people," she declared.
"I pledge a government dedicated to upholding
truth and justice, morality and decency, freedom
and democracy."
Less than
twelve hours later her predecessor, Ferdinand
Marcos, and his family climbed aboard four U.S.
Air Force helicopters, bound for exile after
more than 20 years of increasingly authoritarian
rule. Aquino went on national television to
assure the country that a great national crisis
had been resolved. "We are finally free," she
said. "The long agony is over."
The protracted
and sometimes bloody effort to oust Marcos had
indeed come to an end. Carried by a ground swell
of popular emotion and aided by Marcos' Defense
Minister, Juan Ponce Enrile, and Vice Chief of
Staff, Fidel Ramos, who suddenly defected to
their cause, Filipinos had mounted an
essentially unarmed, democratic revolution and,
perhaps to their own astonishment, triumphed. In
a period of only 78 hours, as his troops and
tanks backed off from confrontations with
thousands of demonstrators, Marcos slipped
swiftly from undisputed one-man rule to no rule
at all. Just after Aquino took her presidential
oath, Marcos had himself inaugurated at
Malacanang; it was his last official act before
fleeing to Clark Air Base, north of Manila, and
thence to Guam and Hawaii.
In a fiesta of
freedom, thousands of Filipinos paraded through
Manila's Makati financial district under
exploding fireworks and a shower of yellow
confetti. On the sidewalks, vendors did a brisk
business in T shirts emblazoned with CORY. Car
horns honked in chorus. Occasional placards
bobbed and dipped in the crowd. REBELLION TO
TYRANTS IS OBEDIENCE TO GOD, read one. JUST
LIBERATED, read another. As cars crawled along
teeming Ayala Avenue, men, women and children,
priests, nuns and soldiers stopped to greet each
other with a salutation that somehow captured
the moment: "Happy New Year."
Washington
closely watched the power shift in Manila,
partly because of the special relationship
between the U.S. and the Philippines, a former
colonial ward, partly because of the strategic
importance of U.S. bases there, and partly
because of what the White House saw as a timely
confirmation of one of its most controversial
foreign policies. In a meeting with journalists,
President Reagan argued that the
Administration's deft handling of the Philippine
crisis strengthened the case for increased U.S.
aid to the contra rebels, who are battling the
Marxist Sandinista regime in Nicaragua.
Explained Secretary of State George Shultz, who
followed Reagan at the briefing: "We see in
Nicaragua, much more than in the Philippines, a
government at odds with its people." A State
Department aide put it more politically. "We
feel we're on a roll," he said. "Now we want to
use that momentum and apply it to the contras."
Sweet as
Aquino's victory was, the morning after for her
fledgling government came all too soon. The
triumph over Marcos may soon seem easy, compared
with the tasks ahead. The once promising
Philippine economy is moribund. The military is
factionalized and riddled with corruption. A
Communist insurgency mounted by the New People's
Army threatens large areas of the 7,100-island
archipelago. To this staggering array of ills,
Aquino brings a moral force and a popularity
that will buy her the indulgence and goodwill of
the Filipino people, at least for a while.
"There are big problems in the + Philippines,"
said a senior U.S. State Department official
last week. "We have always felt that only a
government that enjoyed a genuine popular
mandate could effectively address them."
There is no
question that Aquino, who was transformed from
mere symbol to forceful leader over the past six
months, has the mandate. What she lacks is
experience in governing. At her first
presidential conference, Aquino asked the
country for patience. "I'm doing my very best,"
she said. "I only wish that people would give us
time."
Such an appeal
is hardly necessary as long as most Filipinos
are caught up in the euphoria of what they call
liberation. But the confetti and adoring crowds
cannot last forever. "This government is
sincerely committed to reform," says one Western
diplomat. "But they will learn that this is
easier said than done." There will be a
honeymoon, perhaps six months, after which 56
million Filipinos will expect to see results
from their new leaders. "No matter how good she
is," observed Senator Joseph Biden, a Delaware
Democrat, "she is almost incapable of meeting
the expectations of the Philippine people." Said
Ernesto Maceda, Aquino's Minister of Natural
Resources: "There really was no forward planning
for a sudden assumption of office. Our problems
are just beginning."
That was
apparent last week as Aquino gamely began
tackling the job of governing. In keeping with
its spontaneous beginnings, the new
administration had a decidedly makeshift look
about it. In the building that had served as her
campaign headquarters, Aquino aides rubbed
shoulders with foreign ambassadors, job seekers
and influence peddlers. There, the Philippine
President met with U.S. Special Envoy Philip
Habib, who was dispatched last week by Reagan to
convey his "warmest greetings" to the new
government. Outside, a carnival atmosphere
prevailed. The building's small parking lot was
filled to overflowing with cars, jeepneys and
diplomatic limousines, as vendors sold soft
drinks and snacks to drivers and security
guards.
Those Marcos
ministers who had not fled the country stayed at
their posts until Aquino met with them and
appointed her own people. The new President
assured most civil servants that they could keep
their jobs, but questions remained concerning
changes in policy and personnel outside the
bureaucracy. "This is a government that doesn't
even have a typewriter," said Presidential
Spokesman Rene Saguisag, 45. Indeed, it had been
so long since + the last transfer of power in
the Philippines--1965--that no one in or out of
government knew precisely how to go about it.
Aquino's first
challenge was to establish a cohesive
administration, a task made difficult by Marcos'
debilitating legacy of one-man rule. Mindful of
the dangers of a political vacuum, she moved
swiftly to show that she was in charge. During
her first full day as President, she appointed
17 Cabinet ministers and held her first news
conference. In an effort to defuse the impulse
to seek revenge on Marcos followers, she spoke
forcefully of the need for reconciliation. The
President, who has frequently called Marcos the
"No. 1 suspect" in the 1983 assassination of her
husband, Senator Benigno ("Ninoy") Aquino Jr.,
made it clear she would not seek the extradition
of Marcos from exile, although she hinted she
might reopen an inquiry into the murder. "I can
be magnanimous in victory," she said. "It is
time to heal wounds and forget the past."
Aquino acted
quickly to fulfill one of her campaign promises.
A day after her inauguration, she authorized the
release of 33 of the 475 Filipinos imprisoned
under Marcos' Preventive Detention Act and other
statutes, laws that permitted incarceration
without trial for a variety of alleged offenses,
from antigovernment protest to suspected
subversion.
Initially,
Aquino announced that political detainees would
be freed on a case-by-case basis. Those charged
with spurious political offenses would be
released, but Communist insurgents and those
accused of violent crimes would be held for
trial. That bothered many of her followers, who
felt that she should show at least as much
compassion for Marcos' victims as she had for
Marcos. The next day Aquino ordered the release
of all remaining political prisoners, subject to
"certain administrative requirements." However,
it was announced that four specific cases,
including that of Jose Maria Sison, the
47-year-old head of the outlawed Communist Party
of the Philippines who has been behind bars
since 1977, would have to be carefully studied
before any action is taken.
Questions
remained about less fortunate enemies of the
Marcos regime. In a television interview, Human
Rights Lawyer Joker Arroyo, 58, now the
President's executive secretary, compared the
Philippines to Argentina and its grisly legacy
of "disappeared ones," the estimated 9,000
victims of military governments in Buenos Aires
who mysteriously vanished between 1976 and 1982.
! "When the history of the Philippines is
known," Arroyo said, "perhaps we will beat the
record of Argentina in magnitude and torture."
Arroyo's claim
is probably exaggerated, but not by much. Task
Force Detainees, a Philippine religious
organization that investigates detentions, says
that in 1985 there were 602 disappearances,
1,326 cases of torture and 276 political
executions. Last week newly freed prisoners gave
chilling accounts of confinement in Marcos'
jails. "I experienced kicking, boxing and
mauling," said Danilo dela Fuente, 36, a labor
organizer who was among the first to be
released. "My head was banged against a concrete
wall. They put a gun to my temple and played
Russian roulette. They put it in my mouth and
twisted it. Once I was blindfolded for 17 hours,
and they would whisper, 'You will be killed
tonight.' " The new Aquino administration is
considering the establishment of a presidential
commission to investigate political
assassinations and unexplained disappearances
during the Marcos era.
In selecting
her Cabinet, Aquino demonstrated an
understanding of politics that impressed even
her harshest Washington critics. Except for two
Marcos holdovers--Defense Minister Enrile and
Central Bank Governor Jose Fernandez --the 16
men and one woman given ministerial portfolios
represent the spectrum of centrist opposition
that supported Aquino's candidacy. The Cabinet
has a firmly middle-class, moderate cast that is
so reflective of Aquino's own background and
political views that a reporter at her first
press conference pointedly asked whether the
choices were too "elite." The Cabinet selections
did not please the far left, which decried them
as "bourgeois," but the ministers'
middle-of-the-road credentials should appeal to
the business community and the international
lending institutions on which the Philippine
economy depends for recovery. As important,
Aquino's choices were widely recognized in both
the Philippines and the U.S. as competent and
dedicated, a far cry from the Marcos period,
when many top positions in government went to
relatives, friends and palace cronies.
The most
prominent member of the Cabinet is Aquino's Vice
President, Salvador ("Doy") Laurel, 57, a
childhood friend of her husband's and a former
Marcos supporter who did not join the opposition
until 1980. Laurel was also named Prime Minister
and Foreign Minister. The triple titles and
double portfolio were largely a prearranged
reward for Laurel, who set aside his own ^
presidential ambitions last December to become
Aquino's running mate in the Feb. 7 election. As
her part of the deal, Aquino, who had no party
affiliation, agreed at the time to run on the
ticket of Laurel's party, the United Nationalist
Democratic Organization (UNIDO). The compromise
ensured a united opposition ticket but angered
leftists, who distrust Laurel and what they
describe as his pro-American views.
Two figures
close to Laurel joined the Cabinet: Luis
Villafuerte, 50, an investment banker and
lawyer, who was chosen to head a presidential
commission on government reorganization, and
Ernesto Maceda, 50, also a lawyer, who received
the Natural Resources portfolio. Both men, like
Laurel, are former Marcos allies who severed
their ties with him some years ago.
For balance on
the other side, Aquino chose two center-left
Assemblymen from the Pilipino Democratic Party-Laban.
Aquilino Pimentel, 50, repeatedly jailed during
the Marcos period for opposing the government,
became Minister of Local Government, while Ramon
Mitra, 58, an outspoken rancher, assumed the
post of Minister of Agriculture. Aquino repaid
debts to political independents who strongly
supported her during the bitterly contested
election. Among them: Jaime Ongpin, 47, the
chairman of the Benguet Mining Corp. and one of
her main campaign strategists, who was named
Finance Minister, and Jose Concepcion, 54, a
businessman and head of the National Movement
for Free Elections, a citizens' watchdog group,
who became Minister of Trade and Industry.
The most
important carryover from the Marcos era was
Defense Minister Enrile, 62, who, with General
Ramos, mounted the daring rebellion that proved
to be the catalyst for Marcos' fall and Aquino's
ascension. Enrile's entry into the Aquino
government changed the equation of power in the
ruling coalition. The Minister is personally
popular with many Aquino backers, but his
longstanding ties to Marcos (whom he served as
defense chief for 16 years) and his own
undisguised presidential ambitions make them
uneasy. They are aware that they would not have
gained power had it not been for Enrile's
defiance of Marcos, but there is resentment,
even fear, of the influence the Defense Minister
may exert, particularly if the coalition proves
to be fractious. Sensitive to the criticism, the
Harvard-educated Enrile went out of his way last
week to underscore his commitment to the new
government. "Do you think we would have laid
down our lives for a corrupt purpose?" he said.
"If these (doubters) will give me time to show
them what kind of person I am, I will show
them."
Aquino seemed
less concerned than her colleagues about a
long-term threat from Enrile and gave him credit
for the critical role he played in catapulting
her into office. "I am not engaging in a
popularity contest," she said when asked about
Enrile's new hero status among many Filipinos.
Retaining the Defense Minister and General
Ramos, 57, represents both pluses and minuses
for the President. On the one hand, they provide
vital links to the 230,000-member armed forces,
which she needs to keep order and to fight the
Communist insurgents. On the other hand, the
duo's long association with Marcos may make them
suspect in the eyes of her longtime aides, who
are not totally convinced that their
eleventh-hour conversion was sincere.
Although
Aquino showed personal compassion for Marcos in
the interest of national unity, she made it
plain that she would spare no effort to reclaim
the vast fortune the Marcos family is believed
to have spirited out of the country over the
years. She announced the creation of a
Cabinet-level Presidential Commission on Good
Government, headed by former Senator Jovito
Salonga, 65. One of the panel's tasks will be
the recovery of an estimated $2 billion in
"hidden wealth" that the Marcos family has
surreptitiously squirreled away in the U.S. and
Switzerland. Salonga said he had already secured
counsel in New York City to block the possible
sale of more than $300 million in Manhattan
properties allegedly owned by the Marcos family.
"We will have no trouble recovering the assets
here in the Philippines," Salonga said. "But
overseas we will have to proceed according to
local law."
Though
acclaimed as President, Aquino is technically
head of a provisional government. According to
Enrile, it was he who suggested that Aquino be
sworn in even before it was clear that Marcos
would leave Malacanang. "I took the initiative
because we did not anticipate that the President
would get out," he said. "He had the
constitution. But we had the people with us."
The scheme worked, but it left Aquino presiding
over a government that is legally outside the
constitution. Thus early this week she is
expected to ask the Batasang Pambansa, or
National Assembly, to nullify its Feb. 15
resolution proclaiming Marcos the winner of the
election. The former President's departure has
persuaded most legislators in his New Society
Movement (K.B.L.) / to promise Aquino their
backing. A new resolution recognizing her as the
victor is expected to pass, but it is
questionable whether it will be valid in
constitutional terms. The snap election, which
Marcos claimed to have won, 54% to 46%, was so
tainted by fraud, most of it perpetrated by
Marcos supporters, that it is now impossible to
say with certainty which candidate prevailed.
Once endorsed
by the National Assembly, Aquino is likely to
call a constitutional convention to rewrite the
present document, eliminating some of its more
authoritarian provisions. The plan is broadly
supported by her advisers, even Enrile. "We
should revise the constitution and remove its
imperfections," he told TIME. "It was tailored
to serve a regime." One of the first provisions
to go will be Amendment 6, which granted Marcos
broad decree-making powers. Aquino pledged
during the campaign to repeal the amendment or,
alternatively, to use it one last time to wipe
out all of Marcos' repressive measures.
One of
Aquino's main goals during her first days in
office will be to throw some of the gears of
government into high-speed reverse. "More than
determining what government should be doing, we
will attempt to define very clearly what
government should not be doing," says Minister
Villafuerte. The language sounds Reaganesque,
but in today's Philippines, less government
means greater civil liberties as well as
unfettered markets. Aquino raised the issue of
decentralization before the election when she
outlined a detailed plan for her first 100 days
in office. Among the promises: to unshackle the
government-controlled press, expel corrupt
judges, and repeal labor laws that permit police
to order strikers back to work.
In the same
speech, Aquino referred to the Philippines as
the "basket case of Southeast Asia," an
unflattering but all-too-accurate reference to
the economic wasteland she has inherited. The
Philippines' foreign debt exceeds $27 billion.
The annual interest payment alone--about $1.7
billion--amounts to a third of export earnings.
In 1985 the growth rate plunged to negative
3.5%, while per capita income declined to about
$600 a year, no higher in real terms than it was
in 1972. Almost half of the nation's 21 million
workers are unemployed at least part of the
year. One of the priorities of the new
government will be to provide more jobs.
Marcos
deserves much of the blame for the economic
malaise. He vastly overspent the treasury,
pumping public funds into 300 government-owned
corporations, as well as flashy projects like
luxury hotels and a nuclear- power plant. He
lavished special attention on firms owned by
friends and relatives, a practice known in the
Philippines as crony capitalism. When the
companies failed, the government rushed in with
bailouts it could not afford. By 1983 the
Philippines was so strapped it was forced to
declare a moratorium on foreign-debt repayments.
After a flurry of negotiations, the
International Monetary Fund came to the rescue
with standby credits, conditional on Marcos'
adherence to an austerity plan that included
severe budget cuts.
To this bleak
scenario, Aquino brings the promise of honesty
and the hope of political stability. "One very
positive feature of her presidency," says
Singapore Foreign Minister Suppiah Dhanabalan,
"is that confidence, an important ingredient of
economic growth, will be re-established." That
was readily apparent last week, when some issues
traded on the Manila Stock Exchange climbed by
as much as 40%. On the American Stock Exchange
in New York City, the price of shares in the
Philippine Long Distance Telephone Co., the
country's equivalent of AT&T, more than tripled
in one day.
Aquino's
economic program is strongly oriented toward the
free market. She has pledged to dismantle the
sugar and coconut monopolies operated by Marcos
cronies, reduce regressive fuel and electricity
taxes, and do away with seed and fertilizer
levies that hamper agricultural diversification.
She has said she will try to negotiate better
repayment terms for the foreign debt in the hope
that export earnings will be freed to stimulate
growth. Not surprisingly, businessmen were among
her most ardent backers, and Aquino's economic
policies are certain to retain a pro-private
enterprise tilt.
In naming
Harvard-educated Ongpin her Finance Minister,
the President made an especially wise choice.
Ongpin promises to be a strong voice in the
Cabinet. Even in his first days in office, he
raised hackles among some UNIDO members by
insisting that Jose Fernandez, 66, remain as
president of the Philippine Central Bank.
Ongpin's desire to keep Fernandez, a capable and
widely respected financial expert, was eminently
practical: he was a major architect of the IMF
bailout scheme that saved the Philippines three
years ago and will be a key player in ongoing
consultations on the foreign debt.
Before the
Aquino government can carry out a new economic
program, however, it will have to stabilize the
political situation. Aquino will have to
neutralize remaining Marcos loyalists in the
K.B.L., particularly the party bosses in rural
areas, who rule their fiefs like medieval
warlords. One group she probably will not have
to worry about, for the moment at least, is the
left, which seemed genuinely stunned by her
success. Bayan, a federation of 1,000
"cause-oriented" groups, joined the outlawed
National Democratic Front, the Communist Party's
political arm, in boycotting the election. Last
week the N.D.F. criticized Aquino's Cabinet
choices but admitted in a press statement that
the ouster of Marcos was a "significant victory
in the Filipino people's struggle for genuine
democracy and national independence." Bayan
announced that it planned to play a "watchdog"
role, apparently without sabotaging Aquino's
efforts. But it was not lost on Bayan leaders
that their absence from the Aquino campaign
rules out a share of the spoils. Said one: "If
we had participated, we could have easily meshed
with Cory's organization."
The Aquino
triumph is a setback, however temporary, for the
Communist guerrillas in the New People's Army,
whose numbers are estimated at between 16,500
and 20,000 armed men. Its strength, according to
Pentagon officials, has grown 20% annually since
1983, when Aquino's husband was assassinated.
During the campaign, Aquino often said that
Marcos, who sought a military solution to the
insurgency problem, was the N.P.A.'s best
recruiter. Her hope is to eradicate the poverty
and discontent on which the Communists build to
promote their cause. "The N.P.A. sees that
people are not willing to embrace any kind of
repressive regime, whether from the left or the
right," says Enrile. "Filipinos want a centrist,
liberal, democratic person in government."
In this
spirit, Aquino reiterated her campaign pledge
last week to call a six-month cease-fire in the
war against the N.P.A., which caused more than
1,200 civilian deaths in 1985. If the guerrillas
would disavow violence, she declared, she would
offer them amnesty. Said Laurel: "Given a
credible government, a democratic moral order
and a general amnesty, 90% of the people who are
now fighting in the hills would lay down their
arms and come home." In Washington, some
Philippine experts dismissed such talk as naive.
"Their plan seems unrealistic," said Larry
Niksch, director of Asian affairs at the
Congressional Research Service. "It will take
the government a long, determined and very
sophisticated effort to deal with the
insurgency." Added one Western diplomat: "Aquino's
success undoubtedly weakens the Communists'
appeal to the so-called mass base. But one
swallow does not a summer make." Unquestionably,
Aquino's policy is a gamble. If she fails to
make visible progress against economic problems,
it is possible, even likely, that the insurgency
will grow.
If that is the
case, military strength will count all the more.
Under Marcos' Chief of Staff, the despised
General Fabian Ver, the Philippine armed forces
became corrupt, undisciplined and top-heavy with
overage brass. Ramos, the West Point graduate
and respected professional who took Ver's place,
says he plans to change that. One of his first
acts last week was to retire 22 generals,
including Ver himself and the chiefs of the
major branches of the armed services. It was the
first step in a military reform program long
urged by the U.S. The Reagan Administration was
delighted with Aquino's choice for Chief of
Staff. "When you talk to Ramos about the
problems of the Philippines," said a senior
Pentagon official, "he can lay it all out."
Before the
election, President Reagan promised the
Philippines increased military and economic aid
if the balloting was clean and fair. Washington
intends to offer assistance to Aquino, but is
not likely to act before ascertaining details of
her overall plans. When the time comes, however,
almost any request for military, economic and
development assistance to the Philippines is
certain to be well received on Capitol Hill.
Appreciation
of Aquino in Washington is relatively new. Early
on, many in the Administration dismissed her as
inexperienced. They were especially concerned
that if elected, she would demand that the U.S.
abandon its military bases at Clark and Subic
Bay Naval Station. There appears to be little
danger of that, however. In a speech last month
before the joint Philippine and foreign Chambers
of Commerce, Aquino promised that she would
consult other nations in the region and
"especially" the Filipino people before signing
any new treaty. Since then, she has repeatedly
maintained that she would honor the present
agreement until it expires in 1991, and between
now and then keep her options open. As the
campaign progressed, Aquino scored points in
Washington, first for showing savvy and
resilience on the stump, then, after the
National Assembly declared Marcos the election
winner, for keeping her + followers under
control. "It became pretty clear that this was
no ordinary housewife," said a senior State
Department official.
During
Aquino's 28-year marriage to one of the
Philippines' ablest political figures, she
seemed quite content to be a housewife and
mother, and she was a genuinely reluctant
presidential candidate. But she managed to
channel widespread dissatisfaction with Marcos
into a steamroller campaign that in the end
swept him from power. U.S. pressure on Marcos
surely helped, as did the last-minute defections
of Enrile and Ramos. But at the center of it all
was Aquino: petite, polite, increasingly
self-assured, a woman who spoke for a country,
molding an inchoate popular movement into a
winning political force. The base of her appeal
was a quiet strength, deeply rooted in her
devotion to the Roman Catholic Church, which
imbued her with seeming invincibility. "Ninoy
you could hurt," said Teodoro Locsin, 37,
Aquino's Minister of Information, last week.
"But Cory you cannot hurt."
Aquino had the
good fortune to lead a truly democratic
rebellion, something quite different from the
upheaval that ousted the Shah of Iran in 1979
and then degenerated into a regime of religious
zealots. "This is not a revolt of the extremes,"
says Salvador Lopez, a former Philippine
Ambassador to the United Nations. "This is a
revolution of the center." For the moment,
Filipinos, profoundly desirous of change, seem
content simply to celebrate their emancipation.
Says Lopez: "The people are happy that Marcos is
gone, and that is the main thing." The challenge
for the new President is to harness that
spirit--and with dispatch--so that she can begin
to tackle the array of problems confronting her.
Says one of her supporters: "If Cory continues
to be mesmerized by the euphoria of so-called
people power and ignores the practical realities
of politics, she will stumble sooner than
expected." She clearly does not intend to fall
into that trap.
CHART: TEXT
NOT AVAILABLE.
With reporting
by Sandra Burton and
Nelly Sindayen/Manila
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