The Philippines: All the President’s Men

Adroit and resilient, Marcos hits the campaign trail

Only six months ago, most observers were preparing to write his political, and possibly even his actual, obituary. But last week found Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos back on center stage, resourceful and resilient as ever. After striding vigorously up to a podium in Manila, he led 50,000 cheering supporters in his official party song (“Under the new society/ Everybody is equal”). Then, once the throbbing disco beat had subsided and the fireworks had faded into the night, the President, 66, made use of all his well-practiced political stratagems, now eloquently rehearsing the triumphs of his 18-year reign, now spiritedly reviling every member of his opposition.

Amid well-orchestrated chants of “We want Ma’am,” First Lady Imelda Marcos also displayed her political savvy. She would, she said, continue to pledge “a life of never-ending service and a heart of never-ending love” to her people, but she would not run for office during the forthcoming parliamentary elections. Not to worry, though: the next day, in spite of Marcos’ rule against dynasty building, Elder Daughter Imee, 28, was named a candidate in her father’s home province.

Thus did the well-oiled Marcos machine launch the election campaign of its Kilusang Bagong Lipunan (K.B.L.) Party. But the elections to be held on May 14 seem unlikely to be conducted in the hollow style to which the island republic is accustomed: for the first time since Marcos declared martial law in 1972, the Philippines has a free, frank opposition to the government. The shocking, still unresolved assassination of exiled Opposition Leader Benigno (“Ninoy”) Aquino last August has succeeded in reawakening a long-silent populace and galvanizing the opposition. Now the anti-Marcos forces have high hopes of increasing the number of seats they hold in the 200-member parliament from 14 to more than 100. Disturbed by massive public protests, disabled at times by what is widely believed to be a chronic kidney disorder and debilitated by a sick and sagging economy, Marcos has never been more seriously challenged. But rising to challenges is his greatest strength. “The man is a counterpuncher,” says a K.B.L. colleague. “He does not plan the future; he just goes from situation to situation, dividing and conquering.”

Indeed, Marcos has managed to ride out the turbulence of the past few months with singular and characteristic adroitness. In the wake of Aquino’s slaying, more than a million citizens took to the streets of Manila, marching on the President’s Malacañang Palace and calling outright for his resignation. But Marcos shrewdly countered their attacks with a string of concessions that were accommodating enough to mute some criticism yet narrow enough to prevent real change.

Was the five-member commission he appointed to investigate the Aquino affair too partisan? He agreed to replace it with a more independent and impartial body. Did a bloody revolution seem imminent after a clash between protesters and policemen that left ten dead? He agreed to withdraw all uniformed soldiers from Manila’s financial district and allow the demonstrators to police themselves. Was the daily press nothing more than a servile government mouthpiece? He agreed to let a few alternative papers criticize his policy with impunity.

But the seasoned President’s craftiest ploy may prove to be his handling of the elections. For more than a decade his regime has been accused of turning the traditional Philippine form of rigged voting into a fine art. Thus, for example, during the 1981 elections, local officials had no qualms about posing for a foreign photographer while handing out pesos to right-thinking voters. In anticipation of the coming elections, therefore, moderate opposition parties, business leaders and even reformists within his own party demanded that Marcos devise and play by some new rules. Again, in theory, he obliged. In late February his parliament produced a fresh 37-page election code designed to protect candidates and voters alike from all forms of corruption and coercion.

The revised rule book established impartial vote-counting procedures and provided a new list of registered voters, excluding all the nonexistent and multi-registered voters of the past. But it also concealed some cunning small print: one of the four vote counters at each polling station would be appointed by the “dominant opposition party.” The Marcos-dominated election commission has decided that in 101 of the 200 constituencies, that role should be played by an obscure pro-government party. Thus, opposition leaders claim, the government would in effect be assured of victory in the majority of seats. Outfoxed yet again and outraged, the opposition coalition, UNIDO, has now refused to run unless it is soon named “dominant opposition party” instead. “Marcos,” says Opposition Official Linggoy Alcuaz, “has given us enough concessions to divide us.”

Indeed, if the opposition’s most formidable opponent has been the agile President, its worst enemy has been itself. Instead of organizing a campaign, the anti-Marcos movement remains divided between those who would boycott the election, so as not to legitimize what they regard as a mockery of democracy, and those who would contest it, in the belief that they must join the present system in order to beat it. Some 20,000 boycotters, most of them belonging to leftist, issue-oriented groups, last month completed a weeklong, 65-mile march to Manila to protest the elections. Yet many of the prominent individuals in the opposition ranks wish to campaign, if only because they fear a power vacuum that could be filled either by Communist extremists or by the military. “If we do not solve this problem through the ballot,” warns Jaime Cardinal Sin, the outspoken Archbishop of Manila, “I’m just too afraid that we might solve it through violence.” As the factions continue to bicker and dither, many potential supporters may fall away.

The strongest allies of the traditionally nationalist opposition may, ironically, be foreign governments and banks. For five months, the International Monetary Fund and 400 private creditor banks have refused to meet the Marcos regime’s requests for rescheduling $10 billion of its $25 billion external debt and for borrowing an additional $3.3 billion. Resentful that the Central Bank of the Philippines deliberately overstated its national reserves by $600 million and skeptical that Marcos will ever institute massive spending cuts, potential lenders announced last month that no loans would be forthcoming until after the elections. Marcos knows that only a show of good intentions will appease the foreigners on whom he depends.

While refraining from condemning Marcos, Washington too has conspicuously refused to condone him. Instead, it has quietly signaled its displeasure with the regime. Only last week the Senate Foreign Relations Committee voted to switch from military to economic aid $30 million of the $180 million the U.S. plans to pay annually for continued use of military bases in the strategically important islands. The committee also added a rider to the foreign aid bill, linking future funds to the findings of the commission that is investigating Aquino’s death.

That commission has turned up several witnesses whose accounts directly contradict the government’s official explanation. But the investigation is just one of the thorns in Marcos’ side. On the southern island of Mindanao and elsewhere, some of the 10,000 armed Communist insurgents belonging to the New People’s Army have gathered enough popular support to operate what amounts to local surrogate governments. In the absence of financial support from abroad, moreover, thousands of citizens are destined for unemployment and hundreds of factories for closure. The coming election may only compound Marcos’ woes if, in the words of one diplomat, “it forces the Marcos government to address an agenda that others help to define.” So far, however, Marcos, a master of survival, has shown a remarkable gift for writing the agenda himself and for keeping all the perks of power safely inside his own pocket. —By Pico Iyer. Reported by Sandra Burton/Manila