February 26, 1986. The first full day of the post-Marcos era. I decided to go and find out for myself what it was like to live in a Marcos-free Philippines. To breathe in the air of freedom. Passing by a newspaper stand, something caught my eye almost immediately. It was the familiar masthead of The Manila Times-the newspaper of my childhood. The Times, a leading critic of the Marcos presidency and among the first casualties upon the proclamation of Martial Law on September 21, 1972, was back after a more than 13-year imposed absence. As if from out of nowhere, it reappeared to pick up from where it left off. The symbolism escaped me at the time, for I, as was the rest of the country was still in jubilant celebration for having deposed the hated dictator. But there was no doubt about it. The old order was back. And it was back with a vengeance.
It did not stop there. The voices that were being heard in those early, heady days after Marcos were predominantly the voices from the past. From the appointive ministers and administrators who took over from the leftover Marcos lieutenants. To the new regime's cadre of spokespeople. The old was new again. It was as if the whole nation just woke up from a very bad dream. The Marcos nightmare. But then again, it was just a dream. And now it's time to get up and move on with your day. At least, that's what we were being told. The revolution was all about continuing on the path were Martial Law so rudely interrupted it.
Such as it was, the old order was responsible for creating the monster that was the Marcos regime. For it was the pre-martial law era of the old two-party system of Nacionalistas and Liberals that set forth the frustration and anger among the citizenry. With no clear differences that set them apart, the two old-line parties monopolized political power between the two of them. Both inclined to promote and protect the interests of two warring factions of the same class they both belonged to. The elite class. In fact, defections to and from both parties were as common as the flu. For neither party had any distinctive ideological principle that it supremely upheld. And none had any real answer to the social problems that were ailing the republic. Worst of all, both operated with impunity and equally guilty of corruption, excess and abuse of power.
That is why the very real threat of a declaration of military rule in late 1972 was initially seen as a palatable alternative to the old way. And the reason Marcos got away with what was essentially a "presidential coup" so easily was that the people had decided the old order, as represented by the two main-line political parties were unworthy of being saved and deserved to be swept under the garbage heap of history. The Filipinos thought that Martial Law and the New Society as promised by Marcos, with it's enforced dictum of discipline and order was a way to move forward. Or at the very least, a step away from the stagnation of the old society. But as it turned out, fascist rule was a lot worst. An iron-fisted monster that kept growing bigger and bigger.
The reality of course, was that the nation didn't just stop moving forward after September 21, 1972, it went backward. And the state of regression was so bad that it needed revolutionary ideas to correct the wrongs that had been done during 13 years of military rule. And that painful truth was being pointed out by the leading progressive voices of the time. Voices like labour leader Rolando Olalia and student-youth leader Lean Alejandro. But they were all but drowned out by the noise of the new regime's political hatchetmen who claimed the revolution for themselves. Noise that even I mistakenly assumed were the voices of freedom.
To make matters worse, the political fissures that existed in the new governing coalition began to crack even wider. Then-Interior Minister Aquilino Pimentel, in a haphazard attempt to oust the Marcos warlords from local government offices began appointing people from his own party (the PDP-Laban), seemingly without consultation from the new administration's main coalition partner, the UNIDO, headed by the new vice-president Salvador Laurel. After all, the differences and divisions between the anti-Marcos forces were profoundly real. It was a union of conservatives, moderates and liberals. The left and the business sector. The church and the youth movement. In a matter of weeks after the dictatorship's demise, the new president, Cory Aquino looked like she was presiding over a pack of unruly old dogs intent on eating each other.
But perhaps the most belligerent threat to the fragile ruling coalition was the presence of it's very latest member-the Armed Forces of the Philippines. The military, the greatest component of the Marcos-Martial Law years and the key contributing factor to his own downfall. And now, the military was at an even more influential position of power and it was willing to flex it substantial political muscle to serve it's own purpose or at the very least, get it's message across. And the message was clear. "We are in charged of our own affairs".
The unfortunate thing in all of these was that Mrs. Aquino seemed like she was unwilling or unable to exert her authority on those who were trying to subvert hers. It seemed like she was just content on being the anti-Marcos president, despite overwhelming public support. A non-transformational president despite the considerable popularity she enjoyed and can use as moral authority to transform her country. A bean-counter president, content on counting in her days as head-of-state, then returning to private life when her term was over. With that, she left herself wide open to criticisms of lack of vision and leadership skill. Charges of Impotence. Ineffectiveness. Incompetence.
(A grand total of seven coup attempts were mounted in the six year duration of the presidency of Corazon Aquino).
Add to the fact that the corrosive effects of Marcos' corrupt regime has seeped through every facet of Philippine society and it's way of life. And the venom had all but poisoned the well. Which meant that the Aquino administration, despite it's best initial intentions were caught drinking from the same poisoned water and swimming in the same poisoned lake as the one it replaced. In the end, the new regime was as guilty as the old one.
Meanwhile, the true voices of freedom were being permanently silenced, as they were during the darkest days of Marcos rule. Less than ten months after the February Revolution, Olalia was found dead after being abducted by uniformed thugs. Evidence of torture were present when his body was found as with several gunshot wounds to the face and the back of the head. Alejandro was gunned down several months later outside a Metro Manila courthouse after filing electoral complaints in the just concluded congressional election of 1987. Other progressives who dared to speak out about the ineffectiveness of the new regime were either harrassed, intimidated or dismissed as communists, terrorists or enemies of the state.
On the first anniversary celebration of People Power, a good half of the original participants decided to take a pass on it. Over the years, the succeeding celebrations to mark "the people's victory over tyranny" had degenerated into partisan political rallies for whomever held the main seat of power in Philippine politics. And the country had become increasingly polarized with so many competing interests yet no one seemed to have any idea on how to move forward. A far cry from the unity and bravery that was on display for the whole world to see in those historic four days in February 1986. The four days in EDSA.
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