Promoting democracy, sharing the RP experience

This is the first of two articles by former president of the Phillipines Corazon C. Aquino, based on a presentation at the colloquium and inauguration of The Habibie Center in Jakarta on May 22.

JAKARTA: Democracy, human rights and national reconciliation, were the underlying values that animated my agenda when I became the President of the Philippines in 1986. And when my term ended six years and four months later, these were what I considered my legacy to the Filipino people.

To be sure, the work was not yet complete. But I had placed the nation firmly on the road to justice, freedom and equity. That democracy was in place was evident in the vibrancy of Filipino civil society, and the peaceful and orderly transfer of power from me to my successor, President Fidel V. Ramos.

Human rights, a very contentious issue at the beginning of my term, had become part of the national discourse. We created a national human rights commission and directed the teaching of human rights laws and values at all levels of our educational system, and to all police and military personnel.

National reconciliation was the most difficult to achieve. Politically, the Filipino people have been and will probably continue to remain divided. But I can say with confidence that we are now united in our aspiration for and dedication to the preservation of our hard-earned freedoms and democracy.

The loose and broad coalition that brought me to power, composed of the progressive political left, traditional politicians at the center, the business sector, the non- governmental organizations (NGOs) and the military at the right, would precipitate the first crisis of my government.

You can just imagine how each side tried to pull me every which way, to one side and then to the other. Each force would declare that they had only the good of the country in mind as they tried to influence my judgment and dictate my actions.

But I saw my mission as yielding to neither side, but going forward to fulfill as best I could, the expectations of the Filipino people. In all the in-fighting among the major forces in that coalition, I was careful not to lose sight of the people, who, after all, put me where I was.

Their support, their votes, their courage -- their very lives -- carried our fragile coalition to victory and installed me as President.

Above all, I reminded my cabinet, we must serve the people. We were well-rewarded for keeping faith with the Filipino people. It was people power that would stand up and defend our democracy every single time it was threatened by the ambitious and misguided elements of the military.

In time, this people power would become organized into an active civil society, who made their voices heard and their agenda noticed. It was civil society that would have the strongest commitment to our democracy. It was after all, this democracy that made their existence possible.

It is the context in which people power can flourish the most. But before civil society could flourish, we had to address very strongly, one major obstacle to the full flowering of our freedoms.

Although the Filipino people were euphoric about the departure of the dictator and were hopeful about the restoration of our democracy after 14 years of repression, some of the military were a little confused and quite restless.

As in any organization, there were good elements and bad. Even before I had declared my candidacy for the presidency, I had said as the widow of (Benigno) Ninoy Aquino that I was not prepared to condemn an entire organization for the sins of a few.

The important thing for me to do was to reach out to the good soldiers so that we could learn to trust each other and join hands in the common defense and development of our country.

There was a noisy and well-positioned core group that did not stop trying to seize political power for themselves and their patrons. Seven times they tried to mount a coup d'etat, and seven times they failed. They were repudiated by their peers in the military and the public at large, proving that our people's dedication to democracy was stronger than their ambition and their might.

I speak of the Philippine military that I inherited along with the corrupt martial law government of Ferdinand Marcos, its over- sized bureaucracy and its enormous debts. The military had been the main implementors of President Marcos' martial law. Some of its leaders had profited much from the favors granted by the dictator who believed that his continued stay in power was dependent on how he could keep his generals and other favored officers happy and content.

Before Marcos politicized the military, it was a professional organization that knew its place in a democracy. It was loyal to the Constitution and upheld the doctrine of civilian supremacy. But martial law changed all that. The crucial role bestowed by Marcos on the military to perpetuate himself in power gave some of its members a taste not only for wealth, but also for power and politics.

It took 14 years of the corruption of their role and their institution, before the martial law military would turn against its creator. In February 1986, the military formally intervened in Philippine politics.

It was from the middle-level officers Marcos faced his major challenge. It was they who resented the way Marcos upset the system of promotions and the chain of command and compromised the organization's professionalism.

Marcos' dependence on a few loyal officers clogged the top leadership of the Armed Forces of Philippines (AFP) with a handful of entrenched generals who had exceeded their commissions and overstayed their welcome from the public and their ranks. That is why during my campaign speeches I had promised that I would retire all over-staying generals.

The AFP was merely a microcosm of the larger society that had also reached the end of its patience with the decadence of the Marcos era. The assassination of my husband, Ninoy Aquino, so brazenly done in the Manila international airport at 1 p.m. in the afternoon, was the single event that finally awakened the Filipino people from their apathy and indifference.

No doubt, seeing the two million people who courageously joined Ninoy's funeral must have left a deep impression on some of the military leaders.

And so, in February 1986, the confluence of the determined actions of the military and of society at large to put an end to their respective enslavements would come to be known world-wide as the bloodless People Power revolution.

Marcos had cheated me out of the elections and so I had called for a nationwide non-violent protest movement starting on Feb. 16, 1986. Nine days later, I was installed as President thanks to the miracle of the People Power revolution.

Unfortunately, there were misguided elements in the military who wanted to replace my government with a junta they had failed to impose with the failure of their coup attempt against Marcos.

This explains why we experienced seven coup attempts, two of them among the bloodiest of their kind. Those self-proclaimed reformist soldiers would mount challenges to my perceived "controversial" decisions.

One such decision was to release all political prisoners, including the top leaders of the Communist Party' in the Philippines in fulfillment of a campaign promise to the consternation of the military.

I also offered peace to the communist insurgency when the military was demanding to go to war and finish off the rebels. Moreover; against the advice of some in the military, I flew to Jolo, Sulu in Mindanao to meet with Nur Misuari, who was then the acknowledged leader of the Muslim separatists to present my message of peace and reconciliation.

My basic reason for calling for peace talks was that while we were talking, we would not be killing one another. My instincts told me that a taste of peace would soften the resolve of the rebels.

And true enough, during the ceasefire, the rebels were able once again to experience a season of peace, reunited with their families and many of them did not want to go back to war. In fact, we established a rebel-returnee program for them.

But a deeper reason I had for suing for peace was my belief that if the talks failed through no fault of my own, I would acquire the moral ascendancy to wage a proper war.

Both the Left and the Right did everything in their power to make the peace talks fail. And so, in spite of my best intentions, the talks with thee Communists and the Muslims collapsed.

Yet, we could trace the irreversible decline of the insurgents from the moment they said yes to the peace initiatives. Militarism declined, even among the military. The experience of peace -- so brief, but so sweet -- had made its mark on our people, and it would be indelible and irreversible.