Dubai: The Peninsula in the Makati district of Manila is arguably one of the best hotels in the Philippines, if not south east Asia. It was there, under the crystal chandeliers of the Rigodon Ballroom in last September, that the image of 83-year-old Imelda Marcos had a reformation of sorts.
As the political and social elite of Manila’s cognoscenti gathered for book launch of Juan Ponce Enrile’s ‘A Memoir’, this matriarch of right-wing Filipino philosophy, shook hands with the current leader of the nation, Benito Aquino. It was his mother, the late Corazon Aquino, who succeeded Imelda’s late husband Ferdinand as president in February 1986.
The transfer of power however between the 10th and 11th presidents of the Philippines came hard on the heels of a popular revolt — a people’s revolution to topple the harsh dictatorial regime of Ferdinand.
Consider that this daughter of a law professor was feted as a modern and glamorous face of the Marcos regime, a frequent visit to presidential palaces around the world, a bulwark of anti-Communism and a close ally of the United States during the tensions of South East Asia and the hot parts of the Cold War.
Yes, there was the love of shoes — a staple for late-night stand-up comics for decades — but there was the funds amassed, stolen from the people and businesses of Manila.
From the riches of the presidential palace to exile in Hawaii, the accusations of illegal money movements in Switzerland, to the death of her dear Ferdinand, she has endured.
Loved by Filipinos? Hardly now. A recent compensation deal inked by Benito Aquino last week provides ample evidence for the historical record of the brutalities and crimes carried out on her husbands’ orders. Was she a willing participant in the disappearances, the tortures, the illegal killings and political repression? She was a loyal wife, unquestioning of her husband’s actions in a staunchly catholic and traditionalist society. And he did not alone — he had the support, monetarily and militarily of the United States, its forces and ships using key bases across the impoverished island nation.
And in the wider picture, Suharto in Indonesia was no different. And Singapore was equally right wing and stable. And Thailand, with its US presence, was in a similar situation. Elsewhere around the region, Cambodia and Laos were caught up in the hell of the Vietnam peninsula, and the Korean Peninsula was equally tense between North and South.
Maybe, the only way to survive these turbulent times was to be in the pocket of Washington, repressing rights, standing against any form of communist or socialist thought or opponent.
But Imelda was a capitalist with a love of accumulating money — wherever and however it came from. And she loved to spend it too. She was a beauty queen, the lavish first lady who added the pomp and extravagance to the dour and hard actions of Ferdinand. Theirs was a partnership made in heaven — a socialite and elitist with a tough-talking and tougher-talking dictator who held power through popular appeal with the poor and an iron fist against those who opposed him.
In the northwestern province of Ilocos Norte, the Ferdinand name is still adored. Imelda remains a representative of the district in the Manila Parliament; her son, ‘Bong Bong’ remains a senator; while her daughter holds the governorship of the region. At 83, she remains an enigma — despised and exiled, loved and elected, a regional power base but still able to mix and mingle with those jailed or repressed by her husband’s actions.
While her husband was having the fingernails of the detained removed, Imelda was pondering on the next colour of varnish to coat her own bejewelled hands.
Is she a victim of a marriage caught up in the power and politics of the time, a social climber who enjoyed the excesses of position? She did escape a knife-wielding attacker in an assassination attempt that occurred on live television during a 1972 concert — the attacker was killed by her bodyguards. Whether it was a genuine plot against her life or a cunning plan to enhance her popularity at her husband’s plotting — is still hotly debated between supporters and detractors alike.
But she remains the Evita of our day, a sequined parody of tin-pot dictators propped up by Washington — as Moscow did with its chosen elsewhere — the warmer side of the Cold War.
In the East, the chosen wore combat greens. In the West, they wore nice shoes. And lots of them.
