THE PHILIPPINES: Life in a New Society

Two months ago Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos imposed martial law on his archipelago nation—to “save the Republic,” he said, from leftist insurgents. Marcos quickly shut down most of the country’s newspapers and television stations and jailed many of his political opponents. He also moved to halt widespread bureaucratic corruption and initiate long-promised but hopelessly delayed economic reforms, and he talked of creating a “new society” in the Philippines. TIME’S Robert Elson recently visited Manila to assess some of Marcos’ changes and the Filipinos’ reactions to them. His report:

Manila still impresses a visitor as an intensely Catholic and traditional city. It must be one of the few places in the world since the end of the Second Vatican Council where a Wednesday night novena can snarl traffic for miles around. The ramshackle old houses in the central city still contrast as sharply as ever with the gleaming villas in the new suburb of Makati, where private security guards carrying carbines patrol outside the smart shops. One notable change, though, is the whitewashed cleanliness of city walls that once were covered with revolutionary slogans and anti-Marcos graffiti. They were washed clean by ROTC students after Marcos shut down the universities. Now that colleges have reopened, the students are obliged to spend their weekends cleaning up vacant lots.

Manila is unmistakably under military rule; yet there is a note of hope in the city and an apparent willingness on the part of Filipinos to suspend judgment, at least temporarily, in order to give the President a chance to work things out. If—and it is a very big if —Marcos can carry out his promised reforms, get the economy moving and provide an honest administration, he will continue to command the support of most Filipinos. But whether the people like it or not, the Philippines for the foreseeable future will continue under a dictatorship that is somewhat more stringent than that of Lee Kuan Yew in Singapore but less oppressive than that of Chung Hee Park in South Korea.

Marcos has frequently expressed his dedication to the Philippines’ libertarian tradition. By downplaying the repressive side of martial law and emphasizing positive reforms, he has tried to overcome the cynicism and distrust evoked when he first moved. He rolled back a recent increase in electrical rates, imposed price and rent controls, brought sugar back to grocery shelves by putting pressure on local speculators, and announced that he would seek to increase exports by increased trade with China. He also introduced a sweeping land-reform decree under which 715,000 tenant farmers occupying 3,700,000 acres of rice and corn lands will become owners of family farms of 12½ acres each.

Gun Control. Perhaps his most successful action to date has been an amnesty for the collection of illegal firearms. So far, 278,000 guns and more than 1,300,000 rounds of ammunition have been turned in—astonishing figures in a land where restaurant and nightclub signs used to invite patrons to “check your guns.” The much-needed gun control and a midnight to 4 a.m. curfew have already resulted in a significant reduction in crimes of violence, as well as late-night traffic accidents.

One curious factor in Marcos’ dream of a “new society” is its puritanical streak. Brigadier General Fidel Ramos, commandant of the Philippine constabulary, said recently that his men had closed 124 gambling casinos, 24 of which had been operating openly on plush Roxas Boulevard before martial law was declared. “I hope, gentlemen,” Ramos declared, “that I have not unduly interfered with your social life.” Marcos has also banned the bombas, pornographic films with titles like Climax of Love and Naked in the Dark. Strangely, the Manila censor also closed down Nicholas and Alexandra.

Lopsided. Marcos’ harshest edicts have been reserved for the press and his political opponents, many of whom still languish in jail without any charges being lodged against them. Only three of Manila’s seven television channels have been allowed to broadcast again; last week Marcos ordered others permanently closed. “It would be too unpopular to keep them all closed down,” observed one Manila businessman. “After all, a television set is the biggest investment of most families.” The only newspapers available are those that are uniformly pro-Marcos; censorship has increased the hunger for news, though not universally. “I think it is better without them,” said a waiter. “They used to keep me all stirred up. I think I sleep better at night now.”

Filipinos may indeed sleep better because of what they do not know. As a result of press censorship, for example, few are aware that last month Marcos pushed through a new constitutional provision that would enable him to remain in power indefinitely. The action came at a meeting of the constitutional convention, an elected body that for more than a year has been drafting a new constitution that would change the Philippines’ American-style presidential government to a British-style parliamentary system. To ensure passage, the measure specified that those who voted for it would automatically become members of the interim parliament. Those who voted against it would, in effect, be writing an end to their political careers. Not surprisingly, the provision passed by a lopsided margin of 264 to 13—not including the votes of six members who were in hiding and six who had been detained.

How long the grace period for Marcos’ new regime will last is anybody’s guess. Although the Philippine army seems to have contained the relatively small cadre of Maoist insurgents on Luzon, there was a bloody clash two weeks ago between Marcos’ troops and units of the fledgling New People’s Army at Marawi in Mindanao, where MoslemChristian sectarian strife could provide a tinderbox for future flare-ups. Marcos has also made some powerful enemies in the past two months, including more than 4,500 civil servants who were fired from their jobs on charges of corruption and disloyalty, and wealthy oligarchs who were financially hurt by the President’s economic measures. There is as yet no common focal point for resistance, but if reforms should lag the Filipinos’ patience with dictatorial rule could come to an abrupt end.