WORLD, Page 50THE PHILIPPINESSoldier PowerRelying on U.S. assistance to battle the worst threat yet to hergovernment, Corazon Aquino clings precariously to her postBy Howard G. Chua-Eoan
The rumor mill had already established the date and time of
the coming coup: Dec. 1 at 3 a.m. But Manila was used to rumors.
And since the failure of the last big putsch, in August 1987, most
of the talk had led nowhere, good only for a stir in the stock
market or titillation among armchair plotters in the capital's
gossipy coffee shops. At 10 p.m. on Nov. 30, the speculation was
scotched as the government announced the arrest of three members
of an elite military division who had attempted to sabotage a
provincial communications station south of Manila. For most
Filipinos, that seemed to be it. Another coup quashed. Another
night to dream up new plots.
But the old plot had barely begun. Just after midnight, as
Manila slept, a contingent of 200 Philippine marines and Scout
Rangers stationed themselves above a strategic highway leading to
Fort Bonifacio, headquarters of the Philippine army, and suburban
Villamor Air Base. Accompanied by two armored personnel carriers,
the soldiers were armed with automatic rifles and supplied with
mortars. On their left sleeves they bore a strange white patch with
the letters RAM-SFP. The first three initials identified the men
as members of the Reform the Armed Forces Movement, an organization
of Young Turks that was thought to have been disbanded after its
leader, the renegade former Lieut. Colonel Gregorio ("Gringo")
Honasan, 41, staged the coup that nearly toppled President Corazon
Aquino more than two years ago. The second set of letters stood
simply for Soldiers of the Filipino People. Asked what they were
up to, one marine said, "We are here for our country." And then
they began to take it by force.
Suddenly, Manila seemed to be besieging itself as rebel troops
and government soldiers staked out territory in the city and
launched attacks on each other. Not since World War II had so much
firepower been seen and used in the capital region. More than ever
before, the Aquino regime tottered on the brink of collapse as
rebel bazookas blasted away at soldiers defending television
broadcast facilities and as factions within the air force joined
the rebels and bombed the presidential compound.
Even as she declared the situation under control, Aquino made
a humiliating admission of weakness: she requested and was granted
U.S. military assistance. The rapid deployment of several U.S. F-4
Phantoms from Clark Air Base, the American air base north of
Manila, retook the skies for Aquino. The unusually decisive action
by George Bush earned him bipartisan praise for coming to the
rescue of democracy. Said U.S. Senate Majority Leader George
Mitchell: "The President's decision was an appropriate and prudent
one under the circumstances." But Aquino may be haunted by her
decision for the rest of her political life. Alluding to the
Philippines' former status as a U.S. possession, Max Soliven, a
columnist for the pro-Aquino Philippine Star, wrote last week:
"When a government cannot overcome a rebellion without `outside'
help, I hope that this does not make it a colony, a satrapy, or a
banana republic, all over again."
For Aquino, the euphoria of People Power has long been replaced
by the tribulations of running the Philippines. Even as the world
seemed to be infected by the kind of popular uprising she led,
Aquino was struggling with mixed results to make democracy work
with a fragile economy and in a land afflicted with corruption and
insurgency. At home, her halo has lost its shine, and her
popularity, while sizable, has dipped substantially.
To the rest of the world, however, she has remained one of
liberty's most potent symbols. And for the U.S. she represents one
of the few genuine foreign policy triumphs of the decade -- the
moral shift in American diplomatic thinking away from collaborating
with authoritarian allies to standing with democracy. Last week,
when it came to a choice between a military putsch that might have
brought a vicious but strategic stability to the Philippines and
a woman who headed the weak but nevertheless legitimate government
of the country, Washington chose Aquino.
Bush received word of the coup before departing for Malta, and
was kept posted on events while he was aboard Air Force One. Just
before 11 p.m. Thursday, Bush learned of Aquino's request that
U.S. fighters place an "aggressive cap" over two airfields near
Manila from which the rebels had launched attacks against
government positions. Meanwhile, Vice President Dan Quayle chaired
a crisis-management group in the White House Situation Room to
review options. At 11:30 the Quayle group recommended granting
Aquino's request, and Bush approved it an hour later. In addition,
100 U.S. Marines, part of a contingent of 800 stationed at Subic
Bay Naval Base, north of Manila, were deployed on the grounds of
the American embassy as a defensive measure.
The scale of the uprising had surprised and panicked Aquino.
Rebel troops quickly took over Villamor Air Base and blocked loyal
pilots from taking off in their helicopter gunships. Fort Bonifacio
fell. Minutes later, the rebels sent patrols down the runway of
the neighboring international airport, effectively shutting it
down. At the same time, two truckloads of insurgent marines led a
convoy of cars and trucks toward TV Channels 2 and 4, about 20
minutes away in Quezon City. They entered the grounds of Channel
4, the government station, without being challenged; 45 minutes
later Channel 2 was also occupied.
The mutineers' disinformation kept the government off balance.
Reports trickled in that large areas of Luzon and Mindanao as well
as the bustling commercial city of Cebu in the central Philippines
had capitulated to the rebels. Rumors flew that Defense Secretary
Fidel Ramos and armed forces Chief of Staff Renato de Villa had
joined the rebellion. Ramos added to the muddle by saying nothing
publicly on the matter for 212 hours. Finally he went on radio to
urge: "Do not believe their propaganda. It's not true. We're
fighting them. They are the enemy."
At the Malacanang Palace grounds, even Aquino's staff was
shaken. Said assistant press secretary Lourdes Sytangco: "It looks
as if the rebels have the upper hand."
Not until three hours after the fall of Villamor did Aquino go
on the air to address her people. Speaking on Channel 9, a
privately owned network, the President said, "We shall smash this
shameless and naked attempt once more. This nation must never again
be allowed to fall into the hands of tyrants." At that point, the
government counterattack began. Seven army trucks headed for
Channel 4 and a fire fight with rebel forces there. Ramos and De
Villa monitored the crisis from Camp Crame, the constabulary
headquarters.
The rebels kept up the pressure. With vintage T-28 aircraft
they knocked the government off the air by bombing Channel 9 just
as Aquino was announcing that the situation had been "contained."
They pinned down loyalist forces by hitting Crame and the
presidential palace. One palace staff member was hurt, but Aquino
was unscathed. On a recommendation by Ramos, she relayed a request
for U.S. air support to Washington and to U.S. Ambassador Nicholas
Platt.
The American help was crucial to the Aquino cause, clearing
the skies of rebel craft and allowing loyalists to consolidate
their forces. In an interview late in the week, Aquino admitted
that Philippine military planes had hesitated to strafe and bomb
the rebel soldiers. When American might was clearly on Aquino's
side, however, Philippine jets attacked rebel-controlled Sangley
Point naval station, destroying eight planes on the ground. Their
timing thrown off by the intervening U.S. forces, the rebels
abandoned Villamor, Fort Bonifacio and the TV stations.
While many mutineers surrendered, others scattered throughout
the metropolis, taking over three luxury hotels and holding
positions against air and ground attacks near the Defense
Department headquarters of Camp Aguinaldo. Declared Aquino: "We
leave them two choices -- surrender or die." The rebels' reply: "We
will fight to the end. Resign." Though the government insisted that
the back of the mutiny had been broken, fierce and protracted
fighting continued through the weekend. Camp Aguinaldo was set
ablaze by rebel howitzers. The week's toll: at least 46 dead and
200 hurt.
What brought on the rebellion? Aquino may have restored the
country's democratic institutions, but she has allowed the
147,500-man-strong military to continue along the dangerous course
it took during the latter years of the Marcos regime. As young
colonels, radical rightists and Marcos loyalists intermittently
mounted coups against her, Aquino was forced to depend on military
men like Ramos and De Villa to make sure that the armed forces did
not entirely turn on her. Unfortunately, the management policies
of these top officers were forged during the dictatorship, when
promotions were decided almost wholly on the basis of political
loyalty rather than talent. The top ranks continued to be filled
by officers who owed fealty to the Ramos-De Villa clique -- and
only by extension to Aquino.
Coup plotters have taken advantage of the resulting frustration
among the younger officers to organize against Aquino. According
to Candido Filio, a military analyst with the University of the
Philippines, Gringo Honasan did not need support from the top brass
to launch last week's coup attempt. "He has been working the line
of company commanders," says Filio. As it turned out, at least two
generals joined the rebellion.
The rebel officers "are not Noriegas," says Stanley Karnow,
author of In Our Image: America's Empire in the Philippines. "They
are not thugs by any means." While only about 2,000 rebel troops
were involved in the rebellion, several other units declared
themselves neutral in the conflict out of respect for Honasan's
cause. Even if Gringo's latest attempt to seize power is thwarted,
says Karnow, "the symptoms of malaise within the military will
still be there."
For his part, Honasan remained invisible and mostly silent
during the uprising. Except for former RAM member Rodolfo
Aguinaldo, governor of Cagayan province, in the far north, no
politician publicly sided with the rebels.
In fact, most stood by Aquino, including Senate President
Jovito Salonga, who has been critical of her policies. "It took so
many years and so much sacrifice to get rid of the dictatorship,"
said Salonga. "We must protect this democracy despite all its
faults and weaknesses."
The price paid for saving Philippine democracy, however, could
one day doom it. The political situation is a shambles. A drive to
win new foreign investment is now likely to be aborted. Worst of
all, though U.S. jets may have flown the colors of liberty, their
intervention was a psychological blow to the Filipinos.
Since independence in 1946, the Philippines has struggled with
its complex love-hate, parent-child relationship with America.
Already accused by nationalists of being an American lackey, Aquino
had shrewdly kept her silence -- and "my options open" -- in the
matter of renewing the leases on Clark Air Base and Subic Bay Naval
Base, two of the largest U.S. installations in the world. Now that
she has shown herself dependent on U.S. forces there, Aquino may
be hopelessly compromised when negotiations on renewing the leases
begin shortly. Says a Filipino intelligence officer: "Let's not
even talk about the U.S. bases, much less discuss them this month.
This is a U.S. territory, no less, as demonstrated by the U.S.
assistance granted to our ceremonial President."
"The Philippines is still dependent on the United States," says
Karnow. "What's called a `neocolonial relationship' or `a special
relationship' is still there." The rebels have seized on the issue
and are holding Ambassador Platt "personally responsible" for their
defeat and calling the U.S. move "an act of aggression against the
sovereign Filipino people."
Breaking his silence, the still unapprehended Honasan told TIME
during a brief phone call, "We do not wish to spurn our friendship
with the American people. But I believe it is morally wrong for
Ambassador Platt to take sides because it will mean more
bloodshed." Saving democracy may be its own reward, but for the
U.S., this rescue could have long-term costs. Now that Washington
has used force to prop up the Aquino regime, will anything less do
