Aquino Rewrites the Script

A television program that Philippines President Ferdinand Marcos, 55, watched last week did not exactly follow the script he had written. Beamed to Manila's Malacanang Palace by closed-circuit TV, the drama was supposed to be an orderly show trial of Marcos' longtime political enemy, former Senator Benigno (Ninoy) Aquino Jr., 41, onetime secretary-general of the Liberal Party. Instead, the President had to watch, presumably in pain and anger, as Aquino turned the trial into an emotional and stunningly effective public challenge to the regime of martial law that Marcos imposed over eleven months ago. Startling the seven army officers who sat as judges of the military tribunal, his voice quavering with emotion, Aquino implored: "I am begging this court to be allowed to speak. I am pleading for my life!"

Aquino, who was charged with illegal possession of firearms, murder, and plotting subversion with Maoist rebels, was not exaggerating; if convicted, he could have been sentenced to execution or life imprisonment. Despite having spent eleven months in prison since his arrest, Aquino looked trim and confident when he took his place in the dock of the courtroom, a converted army lecture hall in Manila's Fort Bonifacio. Instead of trying to answer the specific charges, however, he shrewdly grabbed every opportunity to denounce the proceeding itself as "an unconscionable mockery," clearly aiming his remarks at the 200 newsmen and spectators who jammed the courtroom.

In a foolish tactical error, the prosecutor allowed Aquino's opening written statement to be made part of the record. It turned out to be a violent attack on Marcos' "new society" as a regime bent on "coercion, violence, human degradation, the total suppression of civil liberties and political processes, and the imprisonment of political enemies." Since the statement had been made in open court, it could therefore be freely reprinted despite martial law. Indeed, thousands of mimeographed copies were soon circulating all over Manila.

To dramatize his defiance of the court, Aquino dismissed his civilian attorneys, asserting: "I will not participate in these proceedings. I am requesting to be taken back to my cell to await your verdict." Last week a verdict of sorts was rendered--not by the befuddled judges, who had temporarily adjourned the trial to rethink their tactics, but by Marcos himself. Evidently unprepared for the fierceness of Aquino's rhetoric or the effectiveness of his unorthodox defense, the President dissolved the military court and called for a five-man committee to "determine whether really there is a reasonable ground" to believe that Aquino committed the offenses for which he was accused. Privately, Justice Department officials concede that some or all of the charges may eventually be dropped.

Although more than 91% of eligible Filipinos voted in favor of Marcos' "new society" in a national referendum last month, there is growing unrest over the continuation of martial law, the so-far unsuccessful military struggle against guerrillas in Mindanao and Sulu, and the prospect of the country's worst rice shortage in years. Quite clearly, the President is worried that the shrewd, ambitious Aquino, a member of one of the country's wealthiest families, might become a symbol of political dissent and persecution. Many Filipinos are well aware that the ex-Senator's grandfather was imprisoned by the U.S. during the abortive Philippine war for independence in 1899, and that his father was jailed by General Douglas MacArthur for collaborating with the Japanese during World War II.

"Don't drive too fast," Aquino told the lieutenant at the wheel of the car that took him back to prison last week. "You might deprive the firing squad of a victim." Apparently, Aquino also is well aware of the political advantages of persecution.

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