To Be Watched

The black-bearded, Oriental-eyed effigy ablaze before the U.S. embassy in Manila looked more like Charlie Chan than Uncle Sam. But no one could mistake the mood of the 5,000 torch-bearing students, trade unionists and agitators swarming before the embassy gates. Their placards read "Stop fooling us, Yankee dogs!" and "Go home, white monkeys!" The mob shouted not only for immediate removal of all U.S. military bases but also for things clearly beyond U.S. control, including an increase in the minimum wage (currently $1 a day for industrial workers). Then a soft rain began to fall, and the demonstrators, mindful of their frilly barong tagalog shirts, hastily dispersed.

By Asian or African standards, the anti-American demonstration in Manila was sedate. Some Reds were undoubtedly involved, but it seemed to be the work mostly of a mixed lot of opportunistic politicians hoping to exploit nationalist feeling. Still, American and Filipino officials worried about the future of U.S.-Philippine relations and, indeed, about the stability of the strongest anti-Communist bastion in Southeast Asia. Given the deteriorating situation in South Viet Nam and the Communist menace to the whole region, the Philippine Republic, which is often hopefully regarded as the showcase of U.S. style democracy in Asia, becomes increasingly important.

Leak in the Reservoir. Last week's affair was the fourth anti-American "demo" in three months, and although there is an immense reservoir of pro-American feeling in the island nation, it could run out if taken too much for granted. The last three demonstrations were set off by tragic incidents on U.S. military bases. In November an off-duty U.S. airman, allegedly bird hunting with a .22-cal. rifle, shot and killed a 15-year-old Filipino boy scavenging for scrap metal on Clark Air Force Base. The next month, two Marine Corps sentries at the U.S. naval base in Subic Bay killed one of a pair of Filipino fishermen who the marines believed were pilfering from a dockside ammo dump.

The killings brought to 32 the number of Filipinos slain on U.S. bases since 1952. Under the U.S.-Philippine 99-year military-base treaty, American courts-martial have jurisdiction over U.S. servicemen, whether their transgressions are committed while on duty or off. This angers many Filipinos, who feel that Filipino courts should try off-duty offenders--and Washington has in fact indicated that it is willing to make concessions on this point.

At the same time, pilferage is a major problem. In the first nine months of 1964, more than $171 million in goods was lifted from tightly guarded Clark Field, including hundreds of bombs, some as large as 750 Ibs. Some of the weapons and ammo filter to remnants of the Communist Huk guerrilla forces holed up on Luzon. But mostly the Filipino operators sell the explosives to dynamite-fishermen (who package it in Coke bottles to kill fish in Manila Bay) and trade the empty cases on Manila's booming scrap-metal market. Pilferers have stolen airfield landing lights, miles of fencing, electric cables, strips of portable runway, and even a five-ton landing chain.

Skirting the Issue. Beyond the shooting incidents, there is a mounting resentment of the Laurel-Langley Trade Agreement,* which 1) gives U.S. businesses operating in the Philippines equal treatment with local businesses, and 2) gradually increases tariffs on Philippine exports to the U.S. By 1974, when the treaty expires, Philippine goods will receive no tariff preference from the U.S., and at the same time U.S. capital in the Philippines (now amounting to $400 million) will have to face the same restrictions as all other foreign investments. On the one hand, Filipino exporters want a return to full tariff preference; on the other, burgeoning Philippine industry resents U.S. competition and wants American capital penalized now.

President Diosdado Macapagal, 54, has not turned out to be the dynamic leader some hoped he would be when he was elected three years ago amid fiery promises of cleaning up corruption. Faced with a tough election in November, he has carefully skirted the Laurel-Langley issue thus far, fearing that any stand would give ammunition to his opponent, Nationalist Party Leader Ferdinand Marcos, 47. To date, at least, each candidate has been jockeying to appear more pro-American than the other, but in the wake of last week's demo, both agreed that there could be further trouble.

Accusing Macapagal of "flirtation with Sukarno and the neutralists," Marcos said: "Without proper leadership, the demonstrations could blow up into a major crisis." Macapagal slyly reminds visitors that Marcos' party once received support from the Huks, warns: "The demonstrations are a dangerous sign and the elements involved in them must be closely watched."

* Named for Philippine Senator Jose P. Laurel and New Hampshire Newspaper Publisher James M. Langley, who headed the study groups appointed by Presidents Eisenhower and Magsaysay that in 1956 ultimately amended the decade-old Philippine Trade Act.

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