Almost a quarter century ago, Corazon (Cory) Aquino had come to power in the Philippines blazing a glorious trail of People Power that toppled one of the nastiest dictatorships in history. People sang and danced in the streets and went mad with joy as Ferdinand Marcos and his equally hated wife, Imelda, were driven out of Manila’s Malacanang Palace into exile in the US in a peaceful revolution that had few parallels in history.
From this distance in time, it’s difficult to imagine the euphoria of those days. Suddenly, a suppressed nation had found its soul and liberation. Anger that could have resulted in terrible violence was magically transformed into a wonderful feeling of bond, solidarity and rebirth. Overnight, Cory, who led that transformation, became the darling of the nation and the world, and the Philippines looked firmly set on the road to a glorious future.
But that future hasn’t come to be. Was it Cory’s fault that the legacy of the revolution didn’t survive too long beyond her six-year presidency? How could such big hopes crumble so soon into such big disappointments? How could history be so easily forgotten? We don’t know. Perhaps Cory herself didn’t know. But these questions come to mind as we mourn her recent death, at age 76, of colon cancer, 17 years after she ceased to be president.
The seeds of revolt had been sown when Benigno ‘Ninoy’ Aquino, Cory’s husband and Marcos’ most prominent foe, was gunned down in 1983 as he was disembarking from his plane at the Manila International Airport on his return from exile in the US. Revolution broke out in full fury when Marcos rigged the 1986 general election to hang on to power, and spilled out on the EDSA (Epiphanio de los Santos Avenue), Manila’s main road artery. “Time is up,” Marcos’ American backers advised him, when two of his trusted lieutenants, Defence Secretary Juan Ponce Enrile and Army Chief Gen Fidel V Ramos, broke rank.
Cory was the universal choice as the new Philippine president. Hopes ran high and the world began to see the Philippines in a new light of admiration mixed with respect. The housewife with an honest, ever-smiling face — she foiled no fewer than seven coup attempts by Marcos cronies who had stayed behind —became the country’s new icon, .
That’s why one wonders what went wrong afterwards. Of course, the euphoria, at least its glimmer, continued through the reign of Gen Ramos, who was handpicked by Cory to succeed her at the end of her mandatory six-year term in 1992. World sympathy was still in favour of the Philippines. The economy grew. Filipino expatriates continued to bring their money back in. A comprehensive peace treaty was signed with Islamic rebels in the south, sending a signal of reassurance for the country’s future.
But the Ramos presidency had to end in 1998 and Joseph Estrada, a maverick movie actor, was voted in as the new president. Suddenly, the situation changed. One perhaps can forgive Filipino voters for their choice, because Estrada was immensely popular despite his bad reputation as a boozer, womaniser and a person who cracked dumb jokes. But one can’t forgive Estrada for being the kind of president he turned out to be, defiling the mantle that Cory and Ramos had passed him.
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Corruption and cronyism returned in full force. Plunder of government resources was rampant. Charges of bribery flew right and left. Accusations of gambling payoffs were rife. Peace with the Muslim rebels broke down. Estrada became so unpopular that Cory had to openly call for his resignation and a second People Power revolution had to be organised to cut short his rule.
And who would have thought Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, daughter of a much respected former president, Diosdado Macapagal — he was Estrada’s vice-president who had come to occupy Malacanang in 2001 and was elected in March 2004 to a full six-year term — would herself be the butt of so much public scorn? Cory had supported Gloria’s induction into power, but later wanted her out, too.
Accusations against Gloria are many, including a massive rigging of the 2004 national election. There have been several impeachment petitions against her. The latest complaint, in October 2008, accused her of corruption, extra-judicial killings, torture, and illegal arrests. There are fears that she might even engineer an amendment of the single-term-presidency clause in the Philippine Constitution to hang on for another six years.
Let’s hope People Power III won’t let that happen. That hope is what Cory’s legacy is all about. In the nation’s psyche, it remains etched as a moral benchmark that no leader would anymore dare to totally challenge. Perhaps Cory dead will be an even greater force than Cory alive. To thousands of Filipinos who attended her wake and funeral, she’s already a saint.