Deconstructing EDSA I

 

 

By his own admission, President Noynoy Aquino sought refuge in Cebu when his father, the late Senator Benigno Aquino II, was assassinated in 1983. It was also in Cebu where his mother, former President Corazon “Cory” Aquino, took shelter from the political turmoil in Manila during the February 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution that eventually deposed the dictator Ferdinand Marcos from power.

 

Now on the 28th anniversary of the EDSA Revolution, President Aquino is making a revisionist historical claim that it was in Cebu where his mother Cory planted the seed of civil disobedience against the Marcos regime. Thus, why the President was in Cebu to celebrate the anniversary of the EDSA revolt as he emphasized the role played by Cebu in the initial stage of the revolution. As President Aquino said, “If the last part of the protest happened in EDSA, the first part started in Cebu.”

President Noynoy Aquino contemplates the legacy of his parents,
democracy icons former Senator Benigno Aquino Jr. and former
President  Corazon Cojuangco-Aquino on the 28-year anniversary
of  the EDSA I People Power Revolution.

Everyone who knows full well the roots of the people’s protest in EDSA is aware that President Aquino was wrong in claiming that his mother planned the protest while she was in Cebu. Cory Aquino was in Cebu at that time for her own safety just as her own son took refuge there when he was a young boy during his father’s assassination.

 

The people’s protest in EDSA was the tipping point in the civil society’s struggle against the oppressive Marcos regime. Long before EDSA, the Filipino people had already been waging their battle to depose Marcos from Malacañang. Thousands had been killed and imprisoned by the Marcos dictatorship in its effort to remain in power, but EDSA became the critical moment in the people’s movement against the repressive regime. It was in EDSA where the people’s protest reached a critical mass.

 

But whether Cebu actually played an important part in the EDSA revolution only downplays its significance. What is more important is for us to grasp the true meaning of the EDSA uprising, and whether it has accomplished its purpose.

 

EDSA was successful in driving Marcos into exile, but the landscape of political power was never altered. The so-called restoration of democracy in the Philippines in 1986 was simply a transfer of political power into the hands of the oligarchic elite. There was a change in the characters on the political stage, but the play’s storyline remained constant.

 

Twenty-eight years have passed since the EDSA revolution. Income inequalities continue to intensify despite growth in GDP because the economic gains meant bigger profits to corporations and mainly benefited a few wealthy families. The so-called economic growth under the Aquino administration did not translate to higher and gainful employment, thus worsening poverty among more than 25 percent of the population. In short, the quality of life for many Filipinos either worsened or remained unchanged.

 

On the political side, political power remains the monopoly of a handful of family dynasties. The Marcoses were driven into exile by the EDSA uprising but it did not prevent them and their followers from coming back to regain their political influence. Now, the Marcos family is in the political picture again, and if unchecked, it may spring its biggest political comeback by capturing the presidency in the very near future, relegating the EDSA revolution to a sad and insignificant footnote in the country’s history.

 

Public corruption has become a way of life for politicians, making politics the most lucrative of all careers. With its “daang matuwid” mantra, the incumbent administration promises to clean the government of corruption. Yet, looting of the public coffers remains rampant from congressional pork barrel to the President’s own presidential pork barrel, both disguised as earmarks for development assistance.

 

Notwithstanding the return of democracy and restoration of political and civil liberties after the EDSA uprising, repression of political dissent continues to a point where it is allowed as a permissible culture of impunity. While the Philippine press has been bandied around as one of the freest in the world, journalists continue to be easy prey for government repression. The Philippines had the third most number of journalists killed last year and has continued to be among the countries where press freedom is imperiled.

 

In an interview with reporters, President Aquino said that online libel is justified since it constitutes equal protection for those who are aggrieved by information through the Internet. It is easy to understand why President Noynoy Aquino would rather protect those he believes could be criminally libeled on the Internet than preserving the lives of journalists and their right to freely express themselves. Journalists scare Aquino because he does not want to be criticized. To President Aquino, protecting him and others from criticism either on the Internet or on traditional media trumps the right to freedom of expression. Thus, it is acceptable for Noynoy Aquino to punish critics for criminal libel rather than to protect and preserve the rights of journalists and other critics to their life and freedom of the press.

 

This is not to say that no remedy should be made available whenever one defames another. Libel has already been decriminalized in many jurisdictions because the civil court has proven to be capable of providing appropriate remedies for damages rather than imprisonment. Why is it difficult for the Philippines to follow the trend towards decriminalization of libel, but for the very thin skin of President Aquino, Senator Tito Sotto and others who are easily offended by fair criticism?

 

President Aquino’s disquieting aversion to criticism also demonstrates his lack of human compassion to empathize with the oppressed and the poor. Take for instance the victims of super Typhoon Yolanda when they recently travelled to Manila in order to air their grievances for the government’s slow response to their plight.

Survivors of Typhoon Yolanda joined the People Power celebration at the EDSA
Shrine to press their call for press relief for their fellow victims in the Eastern
Visayas region, and tied violet ribbons in many places at Ground Zero to protest
their plight. Photo by Manny Palmero.

Instead of meeting with the protesters, President Aquino snubbed them for coming to Manila. The President said: “To those who are saying that we have been slow in responding... it seems to me that if they are capable of attending to their trip to Manila, perhaps they can also attend to their livelihood.”

 

Aquino’s Social Welfare Secretary Corazon Soliman agreed with the President by saying “instead of coming here, they could have used the money to help themselves.”

 

Even much worse was the reaction of Rehabilitation Czar Panfilo Lacson who denied that the government had been slow in responding to the needs of the calamity survivors and dismissed the protesting typhoon survivors as pawns of communist agitators and leftist groups who wanted to destabilize the government. Here we go again with red-baiting which was a ubiquitous aspect of repression during the Marcos dictatorship.

 

Certainly, this is not the kind of heartless government we wanted after the EDSA revolution. We threw out a repressive regime but coddled another cruel government that suffers from a lack of consideration and empathy to people’s problems. And if we don’t agree with their demands, we call them communists, as if the end of the Cold War in the 1990s did not already erase that stigma of communism.

 

People in high echelons of government like President Aquino and his cabinet should be more sensitive to the needs of the people. If people criticize the government for being slow in responding to their problems, like the victims of Typhoon Yolanda, the best thing for the President or his staff to do is to sit down and listen to them, not to scold them for coming to Manila. After all, these people are also part of the constituency the President calls his boss. Unless, calling the people his boss is just another insincere publicity stunt.

 

The protesters who gathered in EDSA in February 1986 came in droves, armed only with the courage of their words and songs to show the genuineness of their intent and spirit to revolt against repression. They all knew full well that in the event of gunfire, their cause would be lost in a matter of minutes. But the dictator’s minions dithered and avoided the risk of action, in the end betraying their own loyalty to the cruel regime. In a few hours, the Marcos dictatorship crumbled without firing a shot and the entire country and the world begun to embrace the idea that a peaceful revolution was possible.

 

That was the essence of EDSA I, which was lost in the years of succession from one president to another. The only trouble is that every president after Ferdinand Marcos tried to outdo him, to become better or even greater. They all failed, even the current one.

 

Instead of transforming the narrative of the peaceful revolution of EDSA into a story of the making of a new country, a new constitution, a new world—every leader after Marcos emulated the dictator’s predilection for punitive action against the voices of dissent, for rewarding his capitalist cronies and members of the oligarchic elite, for reinforcing political dynasties, and for committing petty and grand corruption in all levels of government. The ordinary masses who persevered in the struggle for a better life actually never figured in the country’s democratic renewal after EDSA. They were victims of the old society under Marcos and they have continued to be the sacrificial victims of one regime after another of excess, extravagance, and small-mindedness.

 

Is it any wonder that those aching for the return of another Marcos in Malacañang are never in doubt that this reality is not any further away? This is a brutal simplification of history after EDSA I, but the fallibility of our memory makes the upcoming narrative almost frightening.

Continuing history after Marcos

 

 

I recently read Raïssa Robles’ blog about the return of the Marcoses to power (http://raissarobles.com/2014/02/09/stopping-the-marcoses-from-erasing-their-crimes-from-history/)  and how certain of our cultural norms are enabling and helping them obliterate their crimes from the history of our country. It’s an interesting and a provocative piece of writing although I don’t fully subscribe to the author’s argument that our culture is partly responsible for the restoration of the Marcos political dynasty, and its recent resurgence because of persistent talks about the possibility of the former dictator’s son and namesake running for the presidency.

Former Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos and his wife, Imelda Romualdez-
Marcos, as the country's Marahas and Mapurot (ugly and undesirable).

What completely surprised me after reading Ms. Robles’ blog is the sorry state of history as a major field of study in university, which she rightly wrote is vital for a nation in documenting lessons from the past. Ms. Robles wrote: “to this day, The History of the Filipino People written by UP historians Teodoro Agoncillo and Milagros Guerrero – which a lot of schools continue to use as their history textbooks – has not been updated to include the Marcos years and the years afterward.”

 

I still have the 1974 edition of Agoncillo’s Introduction to Filipino History which we brought with us when we moved to Canada in 1987, a copy to remind us and our then- still-young children of our roots. The last chapter of the book was about the New Society, a phrase Agoncillo used only once in the book, perhaps revealing his great discomfort in using it, although the short chapter encapsulated the early crisis that Marcos alluded to from 1966 until he declared martial law in 1972 and changed the Constitution in 1973 to provide legitimacy to his dictatorship.

 

But Ms. Robles is on the correct side of history when she decried the lack of updating in Agoncillo’s book, or other history textbooks, to include the Marcos years and the years after his fall from disgrace. A saying from the philosopher George Santayana aptly reminds us why this is important: “Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

 

It is not that there has been a great failure in documenting the events of the Marcos dictatorship which prevents their scholarly publication for use in the teaching of history and as a guide for us in remembering the past. There are plenty of written accounts in newspapers, magazines, local and foreign journals, archival reports, congressional and government records, and other influential books that can be used in accumulating the information needed to update our history. In addition, many survivors of the Marcos era are still alive and they can offer oral histories or personal accounts of what transpired during those repressive and cruel years of dictatorship.

 

In every transition from repression to freedom, many governments such as those in Argentina, Chile, and South Africa have established Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, not only for the purpose of documenting the repression the people have suffered under the old regime, but also to identify remedial measures which may be necessary. Unfortunately, the current president’s mother, former President Cory Aquino, put a brake on past efforts to create a similar commission after Marcos was driven to exile because of pressure from the military. The invisible hand of the United States’ government could also be partly responsible for this obvious ploy to expunge the memory of the Marcos dictatorship which it nurtured and supported.

 

Ms. Robles mentioned that Berlin has established a documentation centre of Nazi crimes during the war, as noted by her husband, journalist Alan Robles. Schoolchildren in Berlin are being taught of Hitler’s crimes to remind them of the horrors of the Nazi regime. Similarly, we also need to educate our children of the crimes of the Marcos’ martial law years and the rise of crony capitalism which continues to survive. My wife, who is also a writer and a classmate of Ms. Robles’ husband at the International Institute of Journalism in Berlin, was equally disturbed that Agoncillo’s book and other Philippine history books have not undergone an updating after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship considering we have so much archival information that can be used.

 

There are four cultural norms that Ms. Robles mentioned in her blog which she argued are being exploited by the Marcos’ political clan and their supporters in propagating their twisted version of reality. These are: respect your elders, do not speak ill of the dead, forgive your enemies, and do not bring the sins of the father on his children. All these so-called social practices are shallow and superficial and they only make light of the crimes committed by the Marcos dictatorship by reducing their culpability. We do not invoke such norms when confronted with the serious gravity of crimes committed against our people. We have long learned and appreciated the clear distinction between right and wrong, and these cultural norms that Ms. Robles mentioned do not by any means mitigate the crimes committed by a dictator against his own people.

 

Noam Chomsky wrote that memory and consciousness of what’s happening right in front of you must be repressed, because once the public comes to understand what’s being done in its name, they would resist and disallow it. This is what exactly was done during the martial law period, and Ms. Robles mentioned it in her blog. Marcos shepherded all the young intellectuals during that time and transformed them into propagandists and mouthpieces of the New Society. The Marcos propaganda machine took care and rewarded them well to crank out glowing and flattering accounts and achievements of the New Society. In other words, they were co-opted by the dictatorship. As soon as the Marcos regime had fallen, these intellectuals would cross the divide to become spokespersons and members of the government think-tank. Now they are either writing and regurgitating daily opinion columns for prestigious local newspapers or serving in the high echelons of government, and for whoever is elected president of the country. Loyalty seems so fungible that ethics or morality doesn’t even matter at all.

Propaganda. Photo courtesy of love unrefined.

Erasing memory and consciousness is the main reason for propaganda. Otherwise, there’s no point to it. Those in systems of control and power never tell the truth, if they can get away with it.

 

The only alternative in bridging this gap between the Marcos years and the present is in scholarship and the academe. Not that academia is totally resilient or immune to government influence, but there is hardly any place left to start this odyssey of reconnecting the past and the present but in the halls of the university. There is a need to fund such scholarship, perhaps through a foundation composed of the survivors of the martial law era and those who do not wish to repeat the past.

 

Ms. Robles’ blog must stir at least the consciousness of those who still yearn for a society that treasures freedom and dignity more than any materialistic achievement. Perhaps, it’s also time to create a new breed of intellectuals to replace the old generation who has betrayed the public.

 

In his book, Necessary Illusions, Chomsky wrote that citizens of democratic societies should “undertake a course of intellectual self-defence to protect themselves from manipulation and control.” In other words, we need to train ourselves to ask the obvious questions, and learn how to be skeptical. For example, if all political commentators are all in agreement with President Noynoy Aquino’s crusade against corruption but differ only on the means of achieving this noble goal, we should instinctively take a few minutes of our reflection to see that this can’t possibly be true. If everyone takes for granted something that cannot possibly be true, what does that make of our value systems and culture as a whole?

 

Any government is founded on opinion, and this extends to the most despotic and most militaristic governments, as well as to the most free and most popular. Rulers rely on consent, whether a state is democratic or totalitarian. The state must ensure that the people do not understand that they actually have the power. To Chomsky, this is the fundamental principle of government.

 

There are many ways by which the government can control the governed. We don’t need special skills to figure what these are.

Neither EDSA I nor Tahrir Square

 

 

 

During the last leg of our trip last Thursday in picturesque Quebec’s Eastern Townships, we stopped at Domaine des Côtes d'Ardoise, the first winery in Dunham and the oldest in Quebec. It’s not just the wine that enchanted us to the place but the collision of art, nature and viticulture on the vineyards and the gardens. The winery features a vast collection of sculptures in various media from bronze to stone to ironworks that were scattered along the various narrow footpaths winding round the vineyard.

 

It was the second stop in our scenic tour of Quebec’s Eastern Townships, right after we had picked baskets of blueberries from the Bleuetière Benoît farm in Dunham. It was my wife Patty’s reunion with her younger sisters, Mel, a practising doctor in Tin Can Bay, Australia, and Cindy, the youngest and a nurse in New Jersey. Accompanying Mel to her first trip to North America was her Australian partner Warwick, while Cindy came along with her American husband Ken, who had visited us in Toronto more than a couple of times. Also with us were our daughter Isobel who works in Montreal and her boyfriend, Jonathan, a French-Canadian from Levi and Drummondville, Quebec, both of whom served as our tireless guides and translators in the largely French-speaking townships.

"I don't know what pork barrel is," Janet Napoles tells investigative journalist
Malou Mangahas in an exclusive interview. Photo courtesy of GMA News.
Click link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOYYUaRCxYU to view
"Janet Napoles, itinangging sangkot siya sa umano'y bilyung-bilyong pork
barrel scam."

Disconnected from Facebook, the respite offered me some needed break from my rambunctious social and political forum which was smouldering before I left on the hot issue of the corruptive effect of the pork barrel system in the Philippines. We’ve had our own share of corruption in Canadian politics, too. Newspapers and the social media here in these parts are likewise buzzing with daily opinions and blogs condemning corruption and scandals in government.

 

But unlike politicians in the Philippines and other foreign governments, our politicians in Canada have the decency and grace to step down and resign once their corruption has been exposed. This past June, Montreal Mayor Michael Applebaum quit amid charges of fraud, conspiracy, breach of trust and municipal corruption. It was the latest scandal in the so-called “City of Saints.” Applebaum’s predecessor also resigned last year after evidence of staff wrongdoing on his watch surfaced in a province-wide corruption inquiry.

 

A politician or government official resigning because of charges of corruption would never happen in the Philippines. Former presidents Ferdinand Marcos, Joseph Estrada and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, and now Janet Napoles, the “queen of pork barrel” who is still at large, never quit until some higher power deposed them.

 

The dictator Marcos plundered the nation’s economy not only by showering his supporters in Congress with pork-barrel money but also by rewarding his cronies with licenses and grants to freely run and operate businesses in the country while he pocketed millions of dollars from foreign loans. Whatever happened to the ill-gotten wealth that the Marcos family accumulated during his years of presidency? His wife, Imelda, and children Imee and Bongbong are still around, all deeply entrenched in political power as if they have not committed wrongdoings against the Filipino people.

 

Joseph Estrada, the “eternal” mayor, is back as Manila’s newly elected head of city government. His election was never tarnished by charges of plunder and corruption while he was president for which he was removed from office by a revival of the EDSA people power movement. In fact, Erap finished second to Noynoy Aquino during the last presidential elections, proving that corruption in government is an acceptable part of the Philippine political landscape.

 

Noynoy Aquino’s predecessor, Gloria Arroyo, remains under house arrest and grounded in a hospital, merely getting a slap on the wrist considering the magnitude of Arroyo’s alleged corruption in government. The most Noynoy Aquino could accomplish to showcase his “matuwid na daan” (straight path) mantra of government was to impeach Supreme Court Chief Justice Renato Corona, not on charges of corruption, but for his failure to comply with the constitutional obligation to file his statement of assets and liabilities net worth (SALN).

 

The current president’s campaign against corruption is in fact a charade that masks his own government’s involvement in wrongdoings, if not by his family, but by his closest and loyal political allies. Through the pork-barrel system, the president is able to reward those who toe his line and punish those who go against his wishes. This is exactly the main rationale for pork-barrel politics. It is a system of largesse, a practice institutionalized by the Americans during their colonial administration of the Philippines. It is pork to us while the Americans call it earmarks. It is the grease that oils and runs the political system.

 

READ MY LIPS. Pork is here to stay, as far as President Aquino is concerned.
Photo courtesy of the Malacanang Photo Bureau.

Aquino’s defensive propagandists are however quick to respond to allegations of corruption in the current administration. They bring out the legacy of the president’s mother, Cory Aquino, as some sort of a saintly presidency that was never tainted with any wrongdoing or misbehaviour in government. Because of his mother’s legacy, the current president, to the eyes of his official apologists, can never be corrupted. This virtual aura of righteousness, they argue, also extends to the president’s sisters, their families, and close friends.

 

Yet, this is far from the truth. Through his friends in the yellow media, Noynoy Aquino is able to manufacture their version of the truth to whitewash all the lies and deception about his presidency. Despite their efforts to cover up Aquino’s involvement in various anomalies, they fail to put a lid on the revelation of his sister Ballsy Aquino-Cruz’s involvement in the $30million MRT 3 extortion scam from the Czech railway company Inekon. Other scams by relatives and cronies unearthed earlier are the grand smuggling by Danding Cojuangco of sugar and oil products to evade taxes, landgrabbing by families of Noynoy Aquino’s Executive Secretary Paquito Ochoa from farmers in San Jose Del Monte to make way for relocation housing projects, DSWD’s Soliman and aides’ mishandling of P18 billion ($442 million) worth of calamity funds and international aid pouring in for victims of typhoon Pablo, Aquino’s hand in P2.8-billion road scam in Davao del Sur, and many more others.

 

Now, the Aquino government is exploiting the recent exposé about Janet Napoles’ 10-billion peso “pork-barrel” scam for ghost projects involving members of Congress, the executive department and other agencies, local government units, fake NGOs and a big-time syndicate of influence peddlers and high-flying hustlers. Instead of taking the lead role in the anti-corruption crusade, President Aquino and his inner sanctum have chosen to defer to the people’s anger against the scope of Napoles’ corruption and the consequent growing public clamour to abolish the pork-barrel system. This shows how farcical this president’s crusade against corruption is, for he knows full well that neither an investigation of the Napoles’ scandal, whether by the Senate’s Blue Ribbon Committee or the Department of Justice and the National Bureau of Investigation, nor a million march against corruption and the pork barrel will accomplish anything.

 

On August 26, a million Filipinos will troop to Rizal Park to show the people’s collective outrage against the pork-barrel system. Everybody’s hoping this is the tipping point when the people will demand President Noynoy Aquino to abolish the program called Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF) that justifies the system of pork barrel which allocates 200 million pesos for each senator and 70 million for each member of Congress in the annual budget.

 

But this million march is neither an EDSA I nor a Tahrir Square revolution. EDSA I ended with the ouster of an oppressive dictator who ruled the Philippines with impunity. It restored at least the trappings of a democracy. The Tahrir Square uprising in Egypt also brought down a military dictatorship but failed to kickstart the beginnings of a new democratic political system.

 

The August 26 million march will simply air the people’s collective indignation. Once the marchers have dispersed and gone home, reality will sink in that this system of pork barrel will continue to stay. It will take more than a million march to overhaul a corrupt system, but at least it could be the start to launch bigger protests and demonstrations against a government that has been hypocritical about its own corruption.

 

As a society, we cannot stop believing that good government is possible. If we do so, then it would be unlikely for us to do what is necessary to keep government honest.

Measuring greatness

 

 

In his book, King of the Mountain: The Nature of Political Leadership, University of Kentucky emeritus professor Arnold M. Ludwig studied virtually all the rulers in the world during the previous century who had a major impact on their countries, as well as those who had not. Ludwig observed that whether it is a democracy or a dictatorship, people eventually want one person at the helm whom they can identify as their leader.

 

There is nothing fanciful in putting so much importance to a single leader. Ludwig, who is a psychiatrist by profession, asserts that this seems biologically and psychologically rooted in our being. “It is part of the genetic blueprint that governs our lives,” Ludwig writes.

Professor Arnold M. Ludwig in his book, King of the Mountain, writes that leaders
of nations tend to act like monkeys and apes in the way they come to power, govern,
and rule.

We probably inherit the desire for a single ruler or leader from the apes who could be man’s closest relative in his evolution. In his classical study of mountain gorillas, G. B. Schaller has demonstrated the central role of the leader in the gorilla community, and the importance of a leader to mountain gorillas also applies to humans.

 

We have just gone through another election in the Philippines and, by the looks of it, people are already speculating who would possibly run for president in 2016 when President Noynoy Aquino steps down. At this early stage, a rematch is shaping up between the frontrunners, incumbent vice-president Jejomar “Jojo” Binay against President Aquino’s anointed heir apparent and losing running mate in the 2011 presidential elections, Mar Roxas.

 

But another big name from the past looms large in the horizon. Bongbong Marcos, now a senator of the Republic and the only son of the previous dictator and his namesake, has also been the subject of speculations on presidential wannabes. Whether Ferdinand Marcos, the son, also rises on the political chain has already aroused some serious and emotional debate on the legacy of his father’s presidency.

 

Ferdinand Marcos, the senior, was president of the Philippines from 1965 until 1986, when the first so-called EDSA People Power Revolution toppled him and forced him to go on exile in the United States. The older Marcos ruled with an iron fist, declared martial law when he could not legally run for a third term as president until he could install what he conveniently called a regime of “constitutional authoritarianism” under the auspices of a New Society.

 

It appeared to be the trend that had swept the region during his time that Ferdinand Marcos took advantage in establishing a government based on authoritarian rule. Other countries like Taiwan, Singapore, Indonesia and Thailand were all being governed by one-man rule.

 

Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore’s prime minister for thirty-one years and whom many have considered a great leader and a paragon for others to emulate, had been successful in overseeing its separation from Malaysia in 1965. Lee was able to transform the new nation from an underdeveloped colonial outpost of the British Empire despite its lack of natural resources into a “First World” Asian Tiger. Compared with the older Marcos, Lee’s dictatorial methods appeared benign and less contemptible because of his ability and success in tending to the economic welfare of his subjects.

 

What others didn’t know, however, as Ludwig described in King of the Mountain, was Lee believed that governing a nation was too important to be left to the uninformed and ignorant populace. Lee didn’t buy into the conventional notion that too much powers corrupted leaders. Instead, he subscribed to the reverse notion that ordinary people could not be entrusted with powers because it corrupted their judgment as voters.

 

Despite ushering Singapore to prosperity in three decades, Lee’s legacy has been tainted by authoritarian rule and intolerance of dissent. He would sue political opponents and newspapers who expressed an unfavourable opinion of his government. One of Lee's abiding beliefs has been in the effectiveness of corporal punishment in the form of caning which he has utilized in a range of crimes. Lee also introduced caning in the Singapore Armed Forces, and Singapore is one of the few countries in the world where corporal punishment is an official penalty in military discipline.

 

While Lee succeeded as an authoritarian ruler, Ferdinand Marcos was a dismal failure, not due to his lack of stomach for dictatorship but because of runaway crony capitalism, wanton government corruption, and widespread human rights abuses that reached a tipping point in the EDSA People Power Revolution in 1986. It’s true that Marcos built more infrastructure like highways, hospitals and schools than his predecessors and successors combined, but that is not a true measure of greatness. We cannot certainly ascribe the genuine greatness of leaders like Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Gandhi to the number of construction projects or lack of it that they pursued and forget the lofty and noble ideals they fought for.

 

To finance his grandiose economic development projects, Marcos mortgaged the country for large amounts of loans from international lenders. The country’s external debt ballooned from $360 million (US) in 1962 to more than $28 billion in 1986, with a sizable amount going to the Marcos family and his business cronies. These loans were assumed by the government and are still being serviced by taxpayers up to today and several generations into the future.
 

Known as the conjugal dictatorship, Ferdinand Marcos and his wife, Imelda,
ruled over the Philippines from 1965 to 1986.

In the 2004 Global Transparency Report, Marcos appeared in the list of the World's Most Corrupt Leaders, ranking second behind the late President of Indonesia, Suharto. Marcos was said to have amassed between $5 billion to $10 billion in his 21 years as president of the Philippines.

 

In the face of an imminent candidacy of Ferdinand Marcos, the son, for the presidency of the Philippines in either 2016 or 2022, there are now attempts toward a revisionist interpretation of the Marcos years in power and the impact of his vision of a New Society. All this talk about how great the presidency of Ferdinand the elder is obviously aimed in rehabilitating the Marcos name and portraying him as a benevolent autocrat who made the country great again. This would pave the way for the popular election of Ferdinand the younger when his time comes up in 3 or 6 years.

 

There is still a legion of Marcos followers who are in awe and greatly impressed by the so-called achievements of the Marcos presidency, especially when they compare him to his mediocre and middling successors. These Marcos diehard loyalists, however, refuse to accept that the damage Marcos had inflicted on the country is still very much with us.

 

Ludwig wrote that the problem in judging the political genius of rulers is knowing what they should get credit for. It is very difficult to judge the merits of one’s presidency even if we can identify the achievements that bear their personal stamp – laws, construction projects, executive decisions, or economic policies, for example.

 

Unlike the creative works of artists, we can evaluate them by their originality, compositional structure, narrative quality, usefulness, beauty or universal appeal. The validity of scientific theories can be tested through experiments. Or we can measure the performance of athletes by their times, distances or scores, or the skill of surgeons in mortality rates.

 

There are no universally agreed-upon ways to assess the accomplishments of rulers. People of different political persuasions often interpret the results of these policies differently. Even if they agree at one point, they may disagree at another, which has been the crux of debate among intelligent members of a social and political forum that I know. Up till now they are still debating whether Ferdinand Marcos is the greatest president the Philippines has ever had. Edifices vs. democratic governance: which is a full measure of success?

 

According to Professor Ludwig, people may choose to ignore their animal heritage by believing their behaviour is rational and socially purposeful, all of which they would account to the fact of being human. But people also masticate, fornicate, and procreate, much as chimps do. Thus, there is no cause for people to get upset if “they learn that they act like other primates when they politically agitate, debate, abdicate, placate, and administrate, too,” says Ludwig.

 

If there’s any consolation, the results of Ludwig's eighteen-year study suggest that leaders of nations tend to act remarkably like monkeys and apes in the way they come to power, govern, and rule. That perhaps would explain in full what the legacy of Ferdinand Marcos is all about.

The ghosts of martial law

 

Last year during the 39th anniversary of the declaration of martial law, Edwin Lacierda, the spokesperson of President Benigno Aquino III, was asked what changes the Aquino administration had initiated to improve the human rights situation. In his reply, Lacierda said, “We have no political prisoners.”



The Aquino government continues to deny that there are political prisoners in
the Philippines. Click link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9DC4rLtge8
to view "Political Prisoners in the Philippines."

Lacierda also said that the Aquino administration has no official policy on human rights violations. Pointing to the appointment of Etta Rosales as chairperson of the Commission on Human Rights, who herself was a victim of torture under the Marcos regime, Lacierda said this was proof that “We frown on human rights violations.”

 

In denying that there are no political prisoners in the Philippines, at least under the Aquino presidency, Lacierda argued that the list under the Joint Agreement on Safety and Immunity Guarantees (JASIG) bore this out. The list he was referring to contained the names of the persons supposed to be protected by JASIG, who were participants in the peace talks between the government and the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP). But the list contained assumed names (aliases) as agreed upon by both panels to ensure the security of the peace talk participants, including their consultants and staff.

 

Because Lacierda and the government could not decrypt the JASIG list (complaining that there were even no pictures), he used this as his term of reference why no political prisoners exist in the Philippines. Lacierda must have thought that the NDFP supplied in one list the names of all the political prisoners languishing in various jails and detention centres in the country. The list actually had only the names of the NDFP peace panel members and consultants. Either Lacierda, who is a lawyer, was being overly technical in asking for a clearer term of reference or simply dim-witted to deny that political prisoners in the Philippines are in fact deemed as common criminals and incarcerated along with those charged with murder, theft, robbery and other common crimes.

 

There is nothing novel in Lacierda’s denial. Ferdinand Marcos said the same thing when he said that there were no political prisoners during the martial law period. It has been the official practice of the Philippine government from the time of Marcos to lump all political prisoners with common criminals. From the time of martial law under Marcos, no person has ever been charged with rebellion or treason or for participation in any political activity that opposed the government, but only for crimes such as murder, assault, robbery, kidnapping, illegal possession of firearms, disturbing the peace, and other garden-variety common crimes.

 

Even the President’s father Ninoy Aquino was jailed by Marcos for trumped-up charges of murder, illegal possession of firearms and subversion. Not because he was an outspoken critic of the Marcos administration. Ninoy Aquino was never prosecuted for his political opposition to the martial law regime.

 

How would President Benigno Aquino III react if told that his father was never a political prisoner, but just a common criminal? When in fact Ninoy Aquino was the foremost political detainee at the time.

 

Why would hundreds of other political dissenters and innocent victims of state repression continue to suffer imprisonment? Is it because there are no political prisoners? The President must have a short memory: he has already forgotten that one of the first things his mother, the late President Corazon Aquino, proclaimed upon assuming the presidency after martial law was a general amnesty and to release all political prisoners.

 

A political prisoner is someone who is in prison because he has opposed or criticized the government of his own country. Why most political prisoners have the taken the path of most resistance is not difficult to understand.

 

When Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law on September 21, 1972, he imposed his own will outside of the limits of the Constitution. He ruled by decree and curtailed press freedom and other civil liberties. He closed down Congress and ordered the arrest of opposition leaders and militant activists, including his staunchest critics and potential contenders to the presidency, Senators Benigno Aquino, Jr., Jovito Salonga and Jose Diokno.



Ferdinand Marcos declaring martial law in the Philippines on September 21, 1972.
Click http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFDB25C4DA6DFF2E0  to view "Batas
Militar: Martial Law in the Philippines" by the Philippine Presidency  Project, a two-hour
 long video produced by Foundation Worldwide People Power (FWWPP).

The economy floundered under martial law because Marcos and his cronies were stealing the country’s wealth. Repression was widespread as the military establishment under Marcos became more entrenched and powerful. They could arrest anyone on mere suspicion and make them disappear.

 

Military historian Alfred McCoy in his book, Closer than Brothers: Manhood at the Philippine Military Academy, cited 3,257 extrajudicial killings, 35,000 torture victims, and 70,000 incarcerated during the Marcos martial law period.

 

As the people were deprived of their political and civil rights, their only viable option was to take to the hills and the path of most resistance. All revolutions are born from similar conditions. Oppressive social structures and economic inequalities often have pushed dissenters to take the road to resistance. Many of these people are poor, weak and belong to underprivileged communities. Where there is state repression, people will always be attracted to fight back.

 

From the martial law years until the present time, political prisoners have been arrested without the veneer of legality, where false criminal charges and manufactured evidence are used to disguise the fact that an individual is a political prisoner. This situation is most common when human rights are violated and abused, to the point of establishing a culture of impunity by the state.

 

The legacy of arrest and detention of political prisoners during the Marcos martial law years has never been broken. As it persisted during the Marcos time, justice became a flexible notion and depended on what was in the best interests, not of the people, but of the state and its dictator. Prosecution was used as a political tool and the presumption of innocence was just an abstract liberal legal principle. While the enemies of the Marcos regime could easily have been liquidated, which in some cases were made through enforced disappearances and extra-judicial killings, the government also opted to make efficient use of the criminal justice system to destroy them. Instead of accusing them of political crimes, they would invent propped-up charges of common crimes. Depriving them of their day in court, they would languish in detention, sometimes tortured and deprived of their decency. What was lacking from the treatment of political prisoners during that time was a “show trial,” a practice that was normally staged in other repressive states where the defendant was brought before the court, a broken and hollow man, to confess his crimes.

 

Putting in prison those who oppose the government, or even forcing their disappearances or extra-judicially liquidating them is a legacy from the martial law years. Today, such arrest and prolonged detention of political prisoners keep lingering on. There are at present about 385 political prisoners, not identified as such but mixed with common criminals, who continue to languish in prison for exercising their right to civil society freedoms.

 

Since President Benigno Aquino III became president, there have been 99 victims of extrajudicial killings and 11 cases of enforced disappearances. Majority of the victims are farmers, indigenous peoples and activists advocating for land rights and environmental protection.

 

In its second-quarter report, the local human rights group Karapatan also documented 60 victims of frustrated killings, 67 victims of torture, 93 victims of physical assault and injury perpetrated by suspected state security forces.

 

We don’t need to have a better definition of terms or perhaps a clearer term of reference on human rights as Lacierda has suggested. In addition to the rule of law that the Philippines upholds, it is also a signatory to almost all international instruments on human rights. Instead of denial, Lacierda and his likes, including the President, have all the terms of reference before their disposal to inform them on why we have political prisoners in the Philippines including ongoing violations and abuse of human rights.

 

All those who are in a state of political denial, such as President Aquino, his spokesperson and others can start with a clear appreciation of September 21, 1972, and be ever mindful of the ghosts of martial law that continue to haunt us as a nation.

EDSA I is not a revolution

We Filipinos love romance. We always love a story that ends well. That’s what EDSA I is to many of us, a revolution without bloodletting, and the ultimate triumph of spirit over evil in its most romantic sense.

We shudder at the thought of more than a million people gathered on one long street demanding the end to a despotic regime, and when we recall how they achieved their purpose without resistance from the government’s army, we shudder even more.

Twenty-six years have passed, yet we have not recovered from the euphoria of EDSA I. Every year we celebrate its anniversary, even much bigger than our Independence Day parade. To many Filipinos, EDSA I was the real thing.

Filipino People Power. Photo courtesy of manilamommy. Click link to view
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YL0lM3abUQE&feature=fvst, "26th EDSA
People Power Anniversary Rally."

Never again, we tell ourselves, shall we allow one dictator to rule over us. As if this were the magic bullet that we need every time we face a crisis. Just gather about 2 million people and get them to march on the street. Let their voices be heard, that would be enough. That’s the miracle of EDSA I.

Why did we become so enslaved to this romantic notion that EDSA I and all its derivatives of display of people power would be enough, that it is the end-all to our problems?

Was EDSA I a revolution?

EDSA I was a popular protest of close too to 2 million Filipinos against authoritarianism, against almost 20 years of despotic rule, of wanton corruption, of abuse of power, of crony capitalism. Although the protest was staged only in Manila, it was considered a collective entreaty by the nation to the dictator to step down and let a new government take over. A new president was elected, and the people vowed not to tolerate any more cheating and fraud. It was a united plea for change. But even that idea of change was so vague and nebulous.

EDSA I represented a cleansing of the heavy cheating and fraud during the presidential elections held in 1986. It was the penultimate event to the declaration of the genuine winner, Mrs. Cory Aquino, who was catapulted to the role of a reluctant national leader after her husband Ninoy was assassinated. Cory Aquino was immediately embraced as the symbolic leader of a peaceful transition to genuine democratic reforms. But even the idea of democratic reform was alien to Cory Aquino’s state of mind, so she left everything to her advisers to chart the map towards building a new government that is supposed to be responsive to the people.

EDSA I meant the restoration of the old oligarchy that was removed and transplanted by Ferdinand Marcos with his own political cronies. It meant that Cory Aquino’s family would recover their old economic foothold, in the same way as it did for the oligarchs of the past.

EDSA I changed the leadership structure of government, but not the structure of society. The poor remain stuck in the quagmire of poverty. The new leaders and the new politicians are all members of family dynasties bred by the oligarchs. It was a replication of the old Marcos government, except that the people who ran the government are now allies of the restored oligarchy. Where did the poor and downtrodden masses figure in the new government after EDSA I? They became significant only during elections, when it was time to buy their votes. Their disenchantment toward their government continues to the present.

EDSA I was the culmination of the people’s revolt against 20 years of Marcos dictatorship. It didn’t happen just because Marcos cheated Cory Aquino during the snap presidential elections in 1986. It didn’t happen because the people were angry at Ferdinand Marcos for the assassination of Ninoy Aquino three years earlier. It happened because the timing was right. Marcos was frail and already dying. The disgruntled elements of the military seized that opportunity to rally their members who had long been dissatisfied with the military establishment, the Roman Catholic Church and its multitude of followers, and the disaffected business sector to come out to the streets and join the popular protest. Members of the leftist movement who were the most militant and who bore the brunt of repression of all groups in opposing the Marcos rule during the 20-year period, had no choice but to join the wave of protesters as well. EDSA I happened because the United States government supported the idea of disposing Marcos and replacing him with a new one.

EDSA I elevated the military to a hero’s status. After being sworn to office, instead of prosecuting those in the military for violation of human rights and the basic legal right to express a contrary opinion and for being responsible for the many who were extra-judicially killed and disappeared, Cory Aquino pardoned the perpetrators. No effort was made to establish the truth and seek reconciliation as other countries under similar circumstances had done after their political upheaval was over.

To the media and moderate Filipino intellectuals, EDSA I was a revolution. They were responsible in propagating this myth that people power had effectively spoken and that EDSA I was instrumental in restoring democracy in the Philippines. True, the dictator was deposed and forced to exile in Hawaii. But democratic institutions like popular elections, the free press, Congress and the judiciary were all in existence, albeit subject to the whims and caprices of the strongman Marcos.

Military as shadow government

Nothing very dramatic or revolutionary happened after EDSA I. It simply installed a new leader, someone who did not meet the basic requisites of a national leader but symbolic enough to lead the country from dictatorship. This is the singular achievement of EDSA I, the proclamation of Cory Aquino and the ouster of Ferdinand Marcos, the passing of the baton from a dictator to someone more moderate and compassionate.

Cory Aquino’s lack of political experience was tested early by malcontents in the military. Staging a series of coups against the government, the military kept reminding the new president that they were a crucial and integral force in the new balance of power. So Cory had to assuage a more serious military opposition to her administration. The military had become the shadow government, and the eternal threat to succeeding presidents like Ramos, Estrada, Arroyo and now, Noynoy Aquino, the son who also rises.

Restoring the old oligarchy which Marcos destroyed was also a priority for Mrs. Aquino, who herself hailed from a landed class with a vast array of economic and financial interests that were held back by the old Marcos regime. Together with the old oligarchy, the new power-holders cemented their firm grasp of political power. To those with the economic means and resources goes the concentration of political power. They bred and continue to multiply political dynasties who control different positions in national and local governments. Politicians and their relatives have controlled political power since the time of Marcos, and Cory Aquino made sure this arrangement would remain. An emerging breed of politicians such as movie, TV and sports celebrities was encouraged to relieve the growing discontent of the masses so these favourite celluloid heroes were added into the mix.

Same same

This was the very same oligarchy that the American colonial period ushered in from the landed elites in the 19th century. The development of these families as the new oligarchy was important to the American colonisers, and these families were able to dominate the country’s political and administrative apparatus and shape it to serve their own ends.

So EDSA I ensured the continuation of an oligarchy that would always remain in control of the levers of the economy and the powers of government. What revolution are the media and moderate darlings of the Philippine intelligentsia talking about?

A revolution is always followed by fundamental changes in socio-political institutions after the struggle for state power. A revolution does not have to be violent. It could be extra-constitutional and in the form of a popular but peaceful upheaval like the Dandi Salt March led by the pioneer of nonviolent resistance Mahatma Gandhi in 1930. EDSA I did not alter the socio-political landscape after Marcos was deposed. In fact, EDSA I reinforced the oligarchy and its control of the economy and politics of the country.

If the exercise of people power is to be considered relevant, then we should expect some profound changes after all the public fuss is over. We should wait for something more drastic than a mere change in leaders, like prosperity for all, for example.

With Filipino people power as in the case of EDSA I, you could almost expect everyone to join with or without a cause. To be meaningful, a real mass movement must have an unmistakable expression of resentment and desperation. That’s why the call for a new people power or revival of EDSA I to oust Corona as Chief Justice will easily fall on deaf ears, except for the few who are the clear beneficiaries of such public uproar.

The Filipino masses are in a desperate condition all right, but unfortunately there is no sign that they feel the slightest resentment against the Chief Justice. Probably, they would just sit this one at home and blame the President for his penchant for playing political games.

Eventually, however, change of some sort must be made. Not through another EDSA I or a similar expression of people power. That won’t cut. New forms of structure need to be set up, and old forms must be destroyed. This is the critical moment which is properly called revolution.

Corruption takes a backseat

 

The arrest of former Philippine President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo has caused an unnecessary public uproar, if not ambivalence. One side is almost ready to burn the former president at stake, declaring her guilty on all counts even without trial. While the rest call for slowing down the prosecution, reminding everyone that she is also entitled to a presumption of innocence.

But can a former head of state expect a fair public trial when it’s her political enemies who are in charge of the prosecution?

Former Philippine president Gloria Macapagal Arroyo is seen arriving on a
wheelchair at the Manila International Airport on Nov. 15, 2011. Photo by
 Noel Celis/AFPGetty Images. Click link to view "Gloria Arroyo charged with
 electoral sabotage,"  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpBZC6MWJVM

Just a wild thought: Wouldn’t it have been easier if Arroyo were lynched by a mob after being overthrown? Wouldn’t that be neat? Like Muammar Gadaffi when he was lynched by a mob of Libyan rebels in front of multiple cell phone cameras while the event was broadcast within hours all over the world. Or pretty much like every unpopular leader from Caligula to Ceaușescu after being deposed from power.

Filipinos can’t be blamed if they cry for blood. For years in power, Mrs. Arroyo had been suspected of plundering the economy to enrich herself and her own family. Remember all the scandals that plagued her administration, to mention just a few: the overpriced North Rail Project involving a $400 million loan from China's Export-Import Bank, the National Broadband Network (NBN) deal between the Philippine government and China’s ZTE Corporation, the ZTE-Mt. Diwalwal mining contract, bribery of members of Congress amounting to half a million pesos each to members of Congress in exchange for the dismissal of impeachment complaints against her, the so-called “Hello Garci” scandal wherein the President was caught on tape while tampering with the results of the 2004 elections, the fertilizer funds scandal which personally benefited Arroyo and some key officials of her government, and human rights violations, extra-judicial killings, enforced disappearances and torture of individuals opposed to her administration. All these happened while the poor majority of the Filipino people wallowed in poverty and the misery it breeds.

As president, Mrs. Arroyo was accused of rigging the electoral process so she could freely cheat and ensure that the election results would keep her in power. Four times Congress tried to impeach her but all failed because she had the money and political power to silence and derail members of Congress from acting.

Now that charges were brought against the former president preventing her from leaving the country, some have criticized the action of government as hasty and without due process. The culprit is now in police custody, yet holding her in captivity is being peddled as wrong and in violation of her legal rights. What’s wrong with this picture?

Imagine if former strongman Ferdinand Marcos had been captured while fleeing Malacañang during the final hours of the EDSA People Power revolution. He would have suffered the same fate as Gadaffi and the people would be rejoicing. The lynching of Gaddafi is the new standard for the treatment of deposed despots and it will be doubtlessly imitated by others.

The transgressions of the Marcos regime were no different from the Arroyo’s. Except this time, Gloria Arroyo has no more powerful friends left to save her. Any appearance of public lynching of Gloria Arroyo in the media is therefore understandable. Arroyo should be thankful that it is much more pacified and without the violent trappings of an actual mob lynching.

However, in spite of all the drama in prosecuting Gloria Arroyo for her past misdemeanour in office, the question that remains unanswered is, what happens now to President Noynoy Aquino’s crusade against graft and corruption?

Gloria Arroyo, the 'most hated' Phillipines leader since Marcos. Photo courtesy
of  The National Conversation. Click link to view "Unexplained wealth of President
 Gloria Arroyo," http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NkiyuBD8_Ps

Arroyo has been charged with sabotaging the elections in 2007. Should Arroyo be convicted and sentenced to spend time in prison, her greater sin of economic plunder will remain unpunished. Is the Aquino government pursuing only the electoral charges against former President Arroyo because corruption is much more difficult to prove? That it would have a disrupting impact on government and a disincentive for future leaders? That it could possibly open a can of worms for the present administration when it leaves—that the successor regime might also consider prosecuting crimes of corruption and thus cause an endless cycle of partisan recriminations?

Everyone on the street will tell you unequivocally that all politicians steal, that no one is truly incorruptible. Not even President Noynoy Aquino. This is as much a way of life as it is the political culture in the country.

All past presidents have been dogged with rumours and allegations of corruption. No wonder, no president under the old Constitution was re-elected for a second term except for Ferdinand Marcos who knew how to wield and control the powers of the presidency for his own benefit. Every corrupt president did not merit re-election. There was no need for prosecution, the people could always boot out the incumbent every election. Thus, the presidency was a continuously revolving door, and corruption in government became part of the institution of the presidency.

With the present one-term limit for the president, this now appears too long for a corrupt president or for an ineffective leader. This is why many still favour the old system, a perpetual revolving door—a new president every four years. But Ferdinand Marcos broke the rule, except he did it differently. Marcos was also a dictator and he imposed his will on the people. Why he was never prosecuted in a Philippine court—for corruption, abuses, and all his crimes against the Filipino people—only shows the lingering influence of his regime over the country’s political and legal system. Consider, too, that members of his family and his former political allies are back in political power without any blemish of culpability for their role during the Marcos oppressive regime.

Former Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. Courtesy of  wikicommons.
 Click link to view "Martial Law in the Philippines,  1972-1986,"
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uIpyvO4c9lU&feature=fvwrel.

It seems easier for the present government to prosecute Gloria Arroyo for an electoral offence than corruption. There’s no need to disclose Arroyo’s network of irregular financial transactions that may also lead to the identification of people whom the government doesn’t want to embarrass, like foreign governments, financial institutions and contractors, or local businessmen and politicians. The government doesn’t have to inquire about the unexplained wealth of officials who run the military establishment who could be beneficiaries of Arroyo’s corruption, the very same people whose loyalty the present government needs to support and back up its administration. Proving corruption is a very complicated matter and may entail a long time to finish, perhaps even beyond the term of the present administration.

Noynoy Aquino wants Gloria Arroyo in jail before Christmas. This he can easily accomplish by sticking to the electoral offences against Arroyo. What easier accomplishment is there than putting a former president in prison for sabotaging the electoral process to ensure that she could stay in power?

Gloria Arroyo’s family and its minions would probably appease and take her conviction with less rancour. Their ill-gotten wealth remains in their hands, and there’s no urgent need to ask for presidential pardon. Politicians and businessmen who benefited from Arroyo’s corruption remain untouched or undisclosed, so the best thing for them is to simply keep quiet.

President Noynoy Aquino will always be loved by the Filipino people for putting in prison the person they hated most. Insofar as corruption is concerned, every person on the street will continue to talk about it. Ironically, the culture of corruption remains unscathed, and no sitting or former president will ever be put to trial on account of it.