Monday, Oct. 03, 1983
Running Wild in the Streets
By Jay D. Palmer
As riots spread, Marcos cracks down and warns of worse to come
For Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos, Sept. 21 is normally a festive occasion, the annual Day of National Thanksgiving honoring the imposition of martial law in 1972. But the 200,000 demonstrators gathered in Manila's Post Office Square last Wednesday were commemorating another event: the unexplained assassination exactly one month earlier of opposition leader Benigno ("Ninoy") Aquino Jr. The throng shouted antigovernment slogans and cheered as speaker after speaker called on Marcos, 66, to resign after 17 years of rule. The rally ended peacefully in the late afternoon, but by evening things had turned ugly. Several thousand angry students and left-wing militants converged on Mendiola Bridge, site of violent clashes 13 years ago, where they encountered a phalanx of riot police. In the ensuing battle, ten people died, about 200 were wounded, and scores were arrested.
As cooler heads sought to open a dialogue between the beleaguered President and his moderate opponents, the spreading turmoil raised fears that events were veering dangerously out of control. The galvanizing shock of Aquino's murder had produced a national outpouring of anti-Marcos sentiment; opposition leaders vowed that the protests would continue until democracy is restored; an official investigation into the killing had ground to a halt; the country was mired in its worst economic crisis since Marcos came to power. While the challenges mounted, Marcos stiffened; at one point he even implicitly threatened to reimpose martial law. "Do not force my hand," he warned in a nationally televised speech. "Do not compel me to move into the extreme measures that you know of."
The unrest prompted some serious soul searching in Washington. President Reagan is expected to stop in the Philippines during a five-nation swing through East Asia now scheduled for Nov. 2 to Nov. 16. The chaotic aftermath of Aquino's death, however, has raised questions about Reagan's personal safety during the visit, and about the political wisdom of appearing to endorse the faltering and increasingly unpopular Marcos. White House planners canceled the outdoor events on the President's proposed agenda in the Philippines, and they also reduced the duration of his visit from two nights to one. But they stopped short of canceling the trip, partly for fear of jeopardizing the strategic U.S. military facilities in the Philippines: Clark Air Base, 50 miles north of Manila, and the big naval facility at (Subic Bay. "As of this moment," said State Department Spokesman John Hughes late last week, stressing the qualification, "he is going."
The week began peacefully enough in Manila. The government had purposely avoided head-on confrontation with opposition demonstrators and had even tried to steal some of their thunder by staging a rally of its own in Makati, Metro Manila's financial district. A special bulletin signed by the vice governor of the Metropolitan Manila Commission (Imelda Marcos, the President's powerful, unpopular wife, is the governor) was distributed to commission employees. "Attendance is a must," it decreed. "Record of attendance must be submitted to personnel management .. . Do not wear uniforms."
The rally was an ill-timed disaster. Some 2,000 ostensibly loyal demonstrators turned up Tuesday as ordered, bearing WE LOVE MARCOS banners and chanting the President's name. Suddenly, pro-Aquino spectators along the parade route set fire to several official banners, and waved others proclaiming WE ARE STILL FOR NINOY. Shouts of "Marcos! Marcos!" suddenly became shouts of "Ninoy! Ninoy!" as some marchers dared to bolt from the pro-Marcos ranks. The few groups who genuinely supported the President were pelted with coins, eggs and rocks from surrounding office buildings. The gathering broke up only after Makati's mayor, Nemisio Yabut, the main speaker, was silenced by loud boos from the audience and by a well-aimed water bag from an upper-story window. To many analysts, the rally was more than a comedy of errors; it was something of a watershed, because it showed that Marcos may have lost the support of the middle class.
The Makati debacle was only a taste of what was to come. The next day, Filipinos from all walks of life poured into the Post Office Square after gathering in four Roman Catholic churches. In defiance of the regime, organizers billed it as a Day of National Sorrow in Aquino's memory. Standing under a Philippine flag at half-mast, representatives of the moderate opposition, the church, labor unions and Aquino's family demanded Marcos' resignation. Declared Jose Diokno, a former Senator and human rights leader who was imprisoned with Aquino in the 1970s: "This day marks the beginning of the end for Marcos."
The rally's organizers actively discouraged violence, and most of the demonstrators followed their lead. Police were under orders to exercise "maximum tolerance" and made a show of displaying empty holsters (though eyewitnesses saw some officers with revolvers tucked in their belts). Initially, the confrontation with the small groups of young militants seeking a "dialogue" was good-natured, but it did not last. As the first barrages of stones were hurled, the students advanced toward the bridge. Police retaliated with a rain of homemade "pillboxes" (small foil packets containing gunpowder and nails). But the students succeeded in setting fire to the makeshift police barricade consisting of one crane and two buses. After several charges, police opened fire; the fighting spread to the surrounding streets and lasted through much of the night. The police used truncheons and pistols; the rioters used stones and took up a collection among bystanders to buy gasoline for Molotov cocktails.
In his television speech the next day, Marcos threatened a crackdown. "We will not allow anarchy to rule," he said, adding that he held "the opposition and its leaders" responsible for the disturbances. His opponents responded in kind. A group called Justice for Aquino, Justice for All (JAJA) issued a statement declaring that "responsibility for the violence that rocked Manila last night rests solely on the government. The government created the economic crisis and the political uncertainty that generated the anger and protest that broke out when Ninoy Aquino was assassinated."
Meantime, the protests continued. On Friday, as a large group of peaceful demonstrators marched through the financial district, police acting under tough new orders waded in with tear gas and clubs. At about the same time, a crowd of more than 2,000 demonstrators marched peacefully toward the U.S. embassy to protest American support of Marcos; police broke up the march with similar methods. The next day, a fragmentation grenade ripped through the stage at a beauty pageant in Davao city, 600 miles southeast of Manila, killing at least twelve people. It was not immediately clear I who was responsible.
Even amid last week's chaos, there were efforts to open a productive dialogue. Jaime Cardinal Sin, the Archbishop of Manila and an outspoken critic of Marcos, called for the formation of a National Reconciliation Council made up of representatives from the government, the church, the opposition and the private sector. He further sought free elections, a free press and release of political prisoners. Sin described his proposal as the last chance to avoid a "bloody revolution." Marcos dismissed the growing unrest as a transitory aberration, but he asked for a meeting with Sin to discuss the proposal.
The Philippine President also appeared several times on U.S. network television, via satellite, in an effort to assuage U.S. concern about the Reagan visit. From Marcos' viewpoint, the visit is essential. The Philippines, like many other Third World nations, is deeply in debt to Western banks. Aquino's murder and the subsequent unrest came at a time of sharp economic slump and widespread rumors that Marcos is seriously ill. The result has been a palpable case of nerves among Manila's Western creditors. If Reagan were to take Manila off his itinerary, said Marcos, "it would be a blow to the country, because we have a ticklish monetary situation."
As he struggled with last week's upheavals, Marcos showed no evidence of serious illness. He looked old and tired. But he also seemed determined to stay in power. It remains to be seen whether he can continue to be in control. As one diplomat puts it, "At the moment the situation is still retrievable, but it will not be that way for much longer." --By Jay D. Palmer. Reported by Sandra Burton and Nelly Sindayen/ Manila
With reporting by Sandra Burton, Nelly Sindayen
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