People Power's Philippine Saint: Corazon Aquino, 1933-2009
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Time
By Howard Chua-Eoan Friday, Jul. 31, 2009
The arc of Corazon Aquino's life lent itself to maxims, but two hard-nosed ones seem particularly worth pointing out. First, political sainthood is a gift from heaven with a Cinderella deadline — once past midnight, you are a pumpkin. Second, personal virtues are never a guarantee of effective or successful governance. What was truly shocking about Aquino's tumultuous six-year term as President of the Philippines was that those maxims proved untrue. Midnight always threatened Aquino but never struck; and she was a good woman whose goodness alone, at the very end, was what proved enough, if only by an iota, to save her country.
The exact opposite was foretold by the husband whose murder she vowed to avenge and whose political legacy she promised to preserve. Anyone who succeeded Ferdinand Marcos, Benigno Aquino declared, would smell like horse manure six months after taking power. The residual effects of the dictatorship of Marcos and his wife Imelda, he said, could guarantee no success — only disaster, despair and failure.
But after a popular rebellion in 1986 overthrew Marcos and proclaimed her President in his stead, Benigno Aquino's widow lasted more than six months; indeed, she lasted her entire six-year term. Furthermore, she retained a whiff of sanctity even as her government rotted, even as Filipinos worked hard to prove George Orwell's aphorism that saints are guilty until proven innocent. As Aquino ruled, every month seemed to diminish the political miracle of her astonishing rise to power, but she survived. And her survival guaranteed the continuation of democracy in her homeland.
The Philippines is still a raucous political hothouse. And every now and then it seems to return to the brink. But the dire days of deadly coup plots are over. Corazon Aquino died a revered figure, after an excruciating struggle with colon cancer, in a hospital in the Philippines.
Corazon Cojuangco was born into one of the wealthiest families in the islands. Fated to be married off in one dynastic match or the other, she was courted by and fell in love with Benigno Aquino Jr., a brilliant and ambitious journalist turned politician whose own family was as illustrious though not quite as wealthy as her baronial clan. The marriage would help propel Benigno's career even as "Cory" was a cipher at his side, the high-born wife whose social ministrations at smoke-filled political sessions flattered her husband's supporters. Benigno's popularity soon challenged Ferdinand Marcos, who had been elected President in 1965. And so, when Marcos assumed dictatorial power in 1972, he threw his rival into jail. Corazon then became her husband's instrument, smuggling messages out of prison and raising funds for the opposition. But as long as he lived, she was merely an extension of Benigno Aquino.
All that changed on Aug. 21, 1983, when Benigno Aquino returned to the Philippines after three years of exile in the U.S. only to be shot dead even before he could set foot on the tarmac of Manila's international airport. Filipinos were outraged, and suspicion immediately fell on Marcos. At Benigno's funeral, mourners transformed Corazon into a symbol.
The devout and stoic Roman Catholic widow became the incarnation of a pious nation that had itself suffered silently through more than a decade of autocratic rule. Millions lined the funeral route and repeated her nickname as if saying the rosary: "Cory, Cory, Cory." If she had agreed to let the massive demonstrations of outrage pass in front of Malacańang Palace, said Vicente Paterno, a Marcos official who would later be her ally, "that could have toppled Marcos." But it would be nearly three years before she would learn to take advantage of her power. Instead, she concentrated on the fractious opposition, using her moral influence to help it choose a leader to oppose Marcos.
Filipinos saw her as that leader, but she declined the role until November 1985. It was then that a Marcos-controlled court acquitted the military men accused of killing Benigno. Marcos then decided to hold a snap presidential election to reaffirm his mandate.
Though hampered by the government's near monopoly of the media, the Aquino campaign attracted millions of fervent supporters, all decked out in yellow, the reluctant candidate's favorite color. And when Marcos cheated her of victory in the February 1986 vote, the outcry was tremendous — and his doom was sealed. Bearing witness to their political allegiance, the millions who crammed the streets to protect reformist soldiers who had mutinied against Marcos chanted the now familiar mantra: "Cory, Cory, Cory." Nuns armed only with rosaries knelt in front of tanks, stopping them in their tracks.
By way of 24-hour cable news, the world witnessed four days of the military-civilian rebellion, a preview of similar uprisings that would later shake out the autocracies of Asia, Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. And then, in a sweep of U.S. helicopters, Marcos was whisked off to exile in Hawaii and Aquino was proclaimed President of the Philippines. It was a most astonishing political story. TIME named her Woman of the Year at the end of 1986, the first female to hold TIME's annual distinction on her own since the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth in 1952.
To govern the Philippines, she would need all the good will she could muster. The country was one breath away from the economic morgue, while Manila's brand of democracy was built on reeds. Aquino survived eight coup attempts by plotters who hoped to head off her liberal constitution and the return of a bicameral Congress. She took pride in her fortitude. "I have to project my confidence even more than some men do," she said early in her presidency. "No one can say that Cory did not give it her all."
Aquino was convinced that her presidency was divinely inspired, even as her political foes mocked her piety. "If the country needs me," she said, "God will spare me." And miracle of miracles, she proved God right and her critics wrong. She would be succeeded by a democratically elected general — the first to be at her side as Marcos threatened to mow down her supporters in the streets. She anointed him despite the opposition of her church. Indeed, Fidel Ramos would be the first Protestant to lead the overwhelmingly Catholic country. And he would give the islands a taste of stability and economic prosperity that she was unable to deliver. But without her withstanding the enemies of freedom, he would never have had the chance.
After the presidency, she ran a think tank and center on nonviolence that carried her husband's name. She also every so often led public protests opposing the policies of her successors, if not her successors themselves. She led demonstrations to remind Ramos that she had promised to dismantle America's bases in the Philippines. He complied. She joined crowds that led to the overthrow of the inept and corrupt government of the actor-politician Joseph Estrada. She also led protests against her former ally, the second woman President of the Philippines, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, in the wake of corruption charges against Arroyo and her husband. Whenever the country appeared to be in a crisis, Cory Aquino rose above the bureaucratic procrastination that had always bogged it down, reminding her people that they once astonished the world with their bravery — and that they could do it again. But Filipinos must now take stock. Whom will they march with now that their saint has gone to meet her God?
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Cory Aquino dies; Philippine people power heroine
Reuters - Saturday, August 1
By Manny Mogato
MANILA - Corazon Aquino of the Philippines, whose ouster of one of the 20th Century's most corrupt dictators made her a global icon of democracy, died on Saturday after a 16-month battle against colon cancer. She was 76.
Her family announced she died in the early hours of Saturday, shortly after a private mass was held in her hospital room. All five children were at her bedside when the end came.
"Our mother peacefully passed away at 3:18 a.m. of cardio-respiratory arrest," her son, Senator Benigno Aquino Jr., told reporters.
"She would have wanted us to thank each and every one of you for all the prayers and your continuous love and support. It was her wish for all of us to pray for one another and for our country."
Aquino, known as Cory to millions of Filipinos, was president from 1986 to 1992. But she is remembered, more than two decades after the fact, as the slim woman in yellow who led the "People Power" revolution that toppled dictator Ferdinand Marcos.
The tumultuous events of those weeks in 1986, which came to a head when up to 1 million people waving rosaries and flowers stopped Marcos' tanks advancing towards Aquino-backed army rebels, became a fairy-tale revolution that gripped the world.
When a bewildered Marcos and his wife Imelda fled the nation, it set a stirring precedent for dissidents everywhere, from South Africa to South America to Pakistan. Aquino was hailed as a modern-day Joan of Arc.
As news of Aquino's death spread, hundreds of people began visiting her home and the EDSA shrine where her 1986 revolution culminated, leaving flowers and lighting candles. Many tied yellow ribbons to their cars, and on trees near her home.
Aquino was a reluctant leader at the start. She shed the housewife's apron only after her politician husband Benigno was assassinated at Manila's international airport in 1983 on his return from exile in the United States.
Accusing Marcos of ordering the murder, Aquino led protest marches, but was hesitant when elections were called in 1986.
"What on earth do I know about being president?," she said before taking up the challenge to run against Marcos. Both candidates claimed victory in the election, but Marcos fled into exile when the army turned against him.
LESS SUCCESSFUL
Aquino's presidency was less successful than the revolution, with a series of coup attempts by the military keeping the administration hamstrung. She was lauded for her courage, but rarely seemed able to get on top of ruling the country.
The spectre of army intervention haunted her entire rule. Natural disasters, including Mount Pinatubo's huge volcanic eruption in 1991, severely battered the economy.
A devout Catholic, Aquino often turned to her faith to steer her through difficult times.
"There was never any moment that I doubted God would help ... If it was time to die, so be it," she said when rebel mortars pounded the presidential palace in 1987.
There was also no doubting her courage.
"I have not always won but ... I never shirked a fight," she said in 1992 before handing power over to her successor, Fidel Ramos. But she did oversee the writing of a new constitution, which among other things limited a president's time in office to one six-year term.
Born on January 25, 1933 into one of the country's richest families, the Cojuangcos, Aquino grew up in a world of wealth and politics, being the daughter of a three-time congressman. She married Benigno, one of the country's most promising politicians, and they had four daughters and a son before he was thrown into prison by Marcos and then forced into exile.
Aquino seemed frail in later years, but was still game for a fight when she thought it necessary. She brought half a million people onto the street in the 1990s when her successor Ramos flirted with the idea of trying to extend his term in office.
She was involved in protests that ended the presidency of Joseph Estrada in 2001, and has supported the campaign to remove current President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo after her one-time ally was accused of corruption and election fraud.
Arroyo, who is in the United States on a visit, announced a 10-day period of national mourning and said in a message: "Today the Philippines lost a national treasure. She helped lead our nation to a brighter day."
Aquino's family has opted against a state funeral and plan to bury her beside Benigno after a private ceremony on Wednesday, her son said.
U.S. President Barack Obama said: "Her courage, determination, and moral leadership are an inspiration to us all and exemplify the best in the Filipino nation."
Her arch-foe Imelda Marcos, who returned to the Philippines after her husband died in exile, said: "Now that Cory is with the Lord, let us all unite and pray for her and for the Filipino people."
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PEOPLE POWER IN THE PHILIPPINES
In the mid-1980's a popular movement sprang up to oust the corrupt Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. As the resistance gained momentum, two key military officers defected from the government and sequestered themselves inside a Manila military base. What followed was an amazing example of nonviolent struggle as hundreds of thousands of ordinary Filipinos took to the streets to protect the rebel officers from troops still loyal to Marcos.
"What the story of the Philippine revolution demonstrates is the power people can have when they withdraw consent."
FERDINAND MARCOS
When Ferdinand Marcos was twenty years old he was arrested for conspiracy in the murder of one of his father's political rivals. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to prison. The case was appealed before the Philippine Supreme Court. Marcos, a young lawyer with no trial experience, represented himself and won the appeal. He was set free.
At one time Marcos was one of the world's most powerful dictators. First elected president of the Philippines in 1965, he pulled the strings of power like a master puppeteer. He consolidated power by manipulating public opinion, stealing elections, perfecting the arts of political patronage and bribery. Arrests and assassinations kept the public living in fear.
Although the Philippine constitution limited the presidency to two four-year terms, Marcos ruled for twenty years. He achieved this by suspending the constitution (after declaring martial law), and then writing another constitution more conducive to his ambitions. He ran the Philippines like it was his private country club, controlling the military, the parliament, the courts, the bureaucracy, the press and several business monopolies. He and his "cronies" got richer while the country got poorer.
ASSASSINATION
Then in 1983 Benigno Aquino decided to return to the Philippines after three years of self-imposed exile. As a popular politician, Aquino represented the primary threat to the Marcos presidency. For his "protection," a military escort greeted Aquino when he arrived at Manila International Airport. As he exited the plane, there were shots. When it was over Aquino's body lay sprawled on the tarmac. The assassination of Benigno Aquino was the match that lit the fire that would eventually consume the Marcos regime.
THE FUNERAL
The Marcos government banned TV coverage of the Aquino funeral. As a result, thousands of people showed up, wanting to see for themselves what was going on. The funeral march turned into an eleven-hour impromptu demonstration against Marcos.
By not allowing TV coverage, Marcos was using the old-fashioned tactics of heavy-handed repression. He didn't understand what the elites of most modern industrial nations have learned—that there are much more subtle (and efficient) means of controlling a population. Had he allowed, even encouraged, extensive TV coverage and turned the whole affair into a spectacle, people may have stayed home and watched the tube instead of going out and getting involved.
REACTION
The public reacted angrily to the Aquino murder. Rallies and other forms of resistance sprang up in cities and towns all over the Philippines. During the next two and a half years all segments of the population, including the upper and middle classes, joined the struggle to get rid of Marcos. Finally, yielding to pressure from his people (and the U.S.), Marcos called for presidential elections to prove he still had widespread support.
Benigno Aquino's widow Cory, a self-described housewife, ran against Marcos. The election was marked by widespread fraud, with Marcos' thugs beating up election workers and scrambling voter roles. The government declared Marcos the winner.
After the election Cory Aquino spoke to a crowd of one million people at a rally in Manila. She proposed a seven-part program of nonviolent resistance, including a one-day work stoppage and a boycott of Marcos-controlled banks, stores and newspapers. She urged people to "experiment with nonviolent forms of protest" and declared: "...if Goliath refuses to yield, we shall keep dipping into our arsenal of nonviolence and escalate our nonviolent struggle." The revolution had begun.
DEFECTION
On February 22, 1986, Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and Deputy Chief of Staff Fidel Ramos defect from the Marcos government. Enrile and Ramos barricade themselves in the Defense Ministry headquarters in Manila, along with a small group of sympathetic troops. They say they are prepared to die rather than continue supporting the corrupt Marcos regime.
Marcos is not worried about the rebel officers. "They are cornered," he says. They "can be easily wiped out with simple artillery and tank fire." He declares: "I intend to stay as President and if necessary I will defend this position with all the force at my disposal." Unfortunately for Marcos, force is not the same as power, and although he still has plenty of force at his disposal, the sources of his power are drying up.
RESISTANCE
Radio Veritas, an independent radio station run by the Catholic Church, calls for people to surround the Defense Ministry and block the movement of any troops that Marcos might send. Hundreds of thousands of people respond. They chop down trees and park buses in intersections to blockade streets leading to Camp Crame where the small contingent of rebels has consolidated their forces. For the next four days, entire families camp out on the streets of Manila, using their bodies to protect the rebel troops from attack.
A carnival-like atmosphere prevails. Hawkers sell peanuts and souvenirs. People sing and dance and cheer. They talk and sleep and listen to Radio Veritas. Priests hold street masses and prayer vigils. There are spontaneous rallies and processions.
Marcos has a plan: "We'll bide our time, but we'll disperse the civilians, protects them, take care of them, and then we'll hit Enrile and Ramos." He sends Marines, tanks and armored personnel carriers to attack Camp Crame.
Marcos' soldiers and weapons are met in the streets by tens of thousands of ordinary Filipinos who are surrounding Camp Crame to protect the rebel officers.
As the tanks start forward into the crowd, people sit down in front of them.
The tanks stop.
People offer the soldiers candy and cigarettes, asking them to defect and join the rebellion. Young girls walk among the soldiers, passing out flowers.
The blocked tanks start forward again. The people sit tight, holding their ground.
The tanks stop again.
A Marine commander threatens to start shooting. Priests and nuns kneel before the tanks, praying the Rosary. No shots are fired. Finally the tanks turn around and withdraw as the crowd cheers.
Marcos, the power professional, knows the foundation of his authority is perception. Despite his frail health, he lashes out against the rebels with macho bluster: "If they think I am sick, I may even want to lead the troops to wipe out this Enrile and Ramos. I am just like an old war horse, smelling powder and getting stronger." Enrile responds: "He can't even lead himself to the bathroom."
On February 24 Marcos imposes a dusk to dawn curfew. No one pays any attention. By now the Reagan White House, whose support is one of the keys to Marcos' power, is openly calling for him to resign. Troops begin to defect in increasing numbers. Seven helicopter gunships land at Camp Crame to join the rebels.
A small group of rebel soldiers in Manila take over channel four, a government-run TV station, cutting off a Marcos speech in mid-sentence. Tens of thousands gather outside to defend the station while the opposition begins broadcasting news updates and appeals for assistance from Enrile, Ramos and Aquino.
DEFENDING CHANNEL FOUR
When several platoons of loyalist soldiers try to take back channel four, they are surrounded by civilians. A priest walks up and leads the crowd in the Lord's Prayer. People begin shaking the soldiers' hands and giving them McDonalds hamburgers, doughnuts and orange soda. The tension eases. After a while the commander agrees to withdraw his troops.
As the soldiers prepare to depart, a middle-aged woman in an Aquino T-shirt helps a machine gunner wind belts of ammunition around his chest. "There, now you look like Rambo," she tells him. But as the soldier bends down to pick up his gun, it accidentally discharges. Another soldier is hit in the face and killed. It is the only violent death on February 24, the next to last day of the revolution.
VICTORY
On the 25th both Aquino and Marcos hold separate inaugurations. The Marcos inauguration is a pathetic affair, attended by family members and a few paid guests. Behind the scenes Marcos is maneuvering to save face, placing phone calls to influential Filipinos and begging to be allowed to stay on as an "Honorary President," or at least to remain in the Philippines as a private citizen. He must be astonished to see his power, which seemed so absolute only a few weeks ago, evaporate so quickly and completely.
At about nine o'clock that night, Marcos and his family sneak out the back door of Malacañang Palace and take a boat across the Pasig River where helicopters are waiting. At Clark Air base they board a U.S. Air Force plane headed for Guam. Marcos, who ruled for twenty years as one of the world's most powerful dictators, is now just a sick old man fleeing his country like a frightened dog.
When Marcos' departure is announced jubilant Filipinos celebrate in the streets and flood into Malacañang Palace. There is some fighting and retribution against citizens and troops who had been loyal to Marcos, but it is minimal.
After violent revolutions there are always scores to settle, grudges to satisfy, revenge to extract, and the cycle of violence continues. But because the Filipino people created major political change largely without violence, national reconciliation was that much easier.
COMMENTARY
While the Philippine revolution deposed a powerful dictator, it left much of the old centralized power structure unchanged. The U.S. still retained major influence through military aid and bases. The Philippine military remained intact under Defense Minister Enrile, the same man who had gotten rich from political connections while serving as Defense Minister under Marcos. The new President, Cory Aquino, was from a wealthy family. The poor were still poor, and the rich were still in charge. Capitalism emerged stronger than ever.
What the story of the Philippine revolution demonstrates is the power people can have when they withdraw consent. The same dynamics apply, no matter what the issue. Had Filipinos decided to go on and struggle for a more equitable distribution of wealth, the abolition of the military, or a decentralized government that was more responsive to their needs, who knows what more amazing things they might have achieved.