Unrelenting campaigner for freedom

For nine years from 1983 to 1992 I spent sleepless nights and hard days covering former Philippines president Corazon Aquino, when she was at the centre of dangerous and stormy events in the country. She played many roles grieving widow when her husband Senator Benigno ‘Ninoy' Aquino was assassinated by the forces of former dictator Ferdinand Marcos in 1983; neophyte politician campaigning against the alleged killer of her husband in 1985; victorious president after a people-backed campaign in 1986.

Aquino was imperilled when she tried to preserve her country's new-found democracy against coup plots from the same people who helped her become president.

Before she took centrestage, two million people marched for 14 hours to attend her husband's funeral. I knew then that I was at the centre of stormy changes in my country; that it was a perfect time to be a journalist.

A fact-finding board, created by Marcos in 1983, worked for two years. In 1984, Senator Aquino's escorts were not blamed for the murder. In 1985, all the escorts including the security forces around the China Airlines plane that brought him home, were to be charged with conspiracy for his death. In 1985, the anti-graft court exonerated those who were charged with the murder. The investigation and the trial were stories of the year.

But then Corazon Aquino stole the limelight and heralded a new era in Philippine politics.

Covering Aquino's campaign for the presidency was like following invisible storms. Reporters were told to stay ahead of her convoy during campaign rallies. We met goons and paramilitary men ahead of her party in hostile villages and municipalities. Once, she asked us, “Aren't you afraid? You're so brave!''

“That's our question for you,'' we told her.

She was widely popular. “Cory, Cory,'' soared from children in far-flung provinces who never even saw her on television. Her speeches were laughable. “My husband Ninoy,'' was her usual opening line. She never mentioned herself. I found it unusual for someone who was facing a giant and a professional politician like Marcos.

Once, vice-presidential candidate Salvador ‘Doy' Laurel in Batangas, southern Luzon, told supporters, “Cory and I are like Guy (famous actress Nora Aunor) and Pip (her singing partner), on bended knees, asking for your votes.''

He raised her hands, but Aquino tried withdrawing them.

Catalyst of change

The assassination of her husband in 1983 gave Aquino a moral edge over Marcos. Being a woman candidate against Marcos made her a good copy. Her popularity irritated traditional male politicians, including key players among her allies. They all saw her as a symbol never seen before, a catalyst for the cleansing of Philippine politics. For them, she was the best way to win against Marcos. She allegedly told ‘Doy' to slide down as a vice presidential candidate because she, a plain housewife, would let him run the government. Surprisingly, he believed her.

As she campaigned, Aquino succeeded in making “traditional politicians or tradpol'' sound dirty. She projected herself as a new breed of politician: nationalistic, clean, service-oriented, and not ‘tradpol'. She had gold but no guns and goons. Marcos discredited her and said women should be in the bedroom. They should not run for the presidency.

At the time, right-wing rebel soldiers also rose as a new class in Philippine politics. Collision of contending forces took a new turn. A people-backed military mutiny ‘peacefully' ousted Marcos and propped Aquino to power in 1986. Aquino released all political prisoners who belonged to the Communist Party of the Philippines and the Moro National Liberation Front. She wanted peace talks with them. But the right-wing rebel soldiers prevented her from being too liberal. She refused a proposed power-sharing.

Marcos Loyalists, another group, was created and acted as warm bodies when right wing rebel soldiers turned their guns against her. They plotted during the day and attacked at night.

According to her, she survived because of prayers. She asked her family members to sacrifice and give up something dear to them, to end all coup plots. At the time, her youngest daughter Kris wanted to become an actress. She was dating actors and matinee idols. I was also covering them apart from the politicians at the presidential palace.

Accusations

Aquino was falsely accused Aquino of hiding under a bed when coup plotters attacked the presidential palace in 1989. To prove the allegations wrong, she showed on TV her trundle bed with a hidden cabinet. She filed and won a four million pesos (Dh333,333) million libel case against the writer and his publisher.

Her executive secretary, Joker Arroyo, rejected the offer of a US Embassy official to hide the former president when coup plotters used a plane to attack the presidential palace. Instead, she went to a nunnery where nuns took care of her.

Apart from ousting a 20-year reigning dictator in 1986 and surviving about nine coup plots until 1989, two large US bases that were established in central Luzon's Olongapo and Angeles, Pampanga for almost 100 years, were dismantled, through a Senate vote in 1991, just before the end of her coup-scarred term in 1992.

As Aquino dashed into the bedlam of Philippine politics, she remained elegant, classy, and brave. She helped fan winds of change with her stubborn desire to reshape an old macho world left behind by Marcos. She perfected the art of gracefulness in power. She created a sense of new politics despite her ironic ascendance to power with the help of macho coup plotters. She shaped her country's history with care, like a mother.

Looking back, I did not realise then that I was covering a great leader who tirelessly called for democracy's preservation but also worked harder, through back channels, for the achievement of her seemingly elusive dreams.

I still wonder if she ever slept during those years.

Covering Aquino's campaign for the presidency was like following invisible storms. Reporters were told to stay ahead of her convoy during campaign rallies. We met goons and paramilitary men