Monday, Sep. 03, 1984

Yellow and Red for Aquino

By Spencer Davidson

Moderates and radicals unite for a statuesque tribute

All day they had rallied under the hot sun, a vast throng swelling to embrace 450,000 people. It had been a peaceful demonstration, but now as darkness fell, a few among the crowd became restless. Gathered in Makati, Metro Manila's high-rise business district, they began setting fire to automobile tires and piles of yellow confetti. With no police or soldiers in sight, predictions by the government of President Ferdinand Marcos that the daylong rally would culminate in violence seemed about to come true.

Suddenly a flatbed truck rolled into view, escorted by two motorcycle policemen and by lines of yellow-shirted marchers waving small yellow flags. Aboard the truck was a nearly 7-ft.-high, flower-bedecked bronze statue of Benigno ("Ninoy") Aquino Jr., the Philippine opposition leader slain by an unknown assassin at Manila International Airport on Aug. 21, 1983, on his return from exile in the U.S. As spotlights played on the figure, the crowd broke into cheers and then into the once outlawed nationalist anthem, Ang Bayan Ko (My Country). A few demonstrators even hugged the motorcycle cops. On such notes of strength and serenity, rather than with the violence prophesied by the government, Filipinos last week marked the first anniversary of Aquino's murder in the largest protest outpouring in Manila since his funeral.

In Year One, as some opposition leaders have come to call the period since the murder, Aquino has emerged as a rallying point for a wide range of anti-Marcos forces. Aware of the significance of the anniversary, the government spared no effort in trying to foil the tribute. Police had dealt harshly with smaller antigovernment rallies in preceding weeks, quickly breaking up the demonstrations with tear gas, truncheons and water cannons. The government also sought to deny a permit for the August Twenty-One Commemoration Committee demonstration, arguing that it would be used by subversive elements for an assault on the President. In a rare rebuff to Marcos, the Supreme Court ruled that the rally should be permitted.

Unable to stop the march, Marcos backed off. Police and soldiers stayed out of sight except around the presidential Malacanang Palace. Demonstration Organizer Agapito ("Butz") Aquino, Ninoy's brother, had feared that the centerpiece of the celebration, the statue, cast in Rome by Philippine Sculptor Tomas Concepcion and flown to Manila via New York City, would be deliberately held up by Philippine customs and had readied a similar statue made of plaster. But after a two-day standoff, during which the bronze was kept at the airport, Marcos ordered $3,970 in duties waived and the figure released.

As it turned out, the guard around Malacanang was not needed. The demonstrators stayed well away, moving peaceably from a Celebrated High Mass at Santo Domingo Church, where the funeral services for Aquino were held a year ago, to Rizal Park for a series of 23 speeches by opposition figures, and then on to Makati. Most of the marchers, including Aquino's widow Corazon, wore or carried yellow, the color of protest after the popular song Tie a Yellow Ribbon. But among the yellow shirts, flags and banners there were many flashes of red. Said Salvador Laurel, the head of the United Nationalist Democratic Organization, one of the key opposition groups: "This should serve notice to President Marcos that the yellow and the red, meaning the moderates and the radicals, have united in pursuit of Ninoy's dream."

In the year since Aquino's murder, the anti-Marcos movement triggered by his death has demonstrated remarkable staying power. The 1 million people who assembled for Aquino's funeral on Aug. 31, 1983, were relatively passive, perhaps even frightened, as they presented Marcos with his first real challenge in twelve years. Last week's crowds, in contrast, were not only confident but streetwise: many had brought along yellow scarves, towels and surgical masks to protect themselves against tear gas. More important, moderate oppositionists won 63 of 200 seats in last May's elections for a new National Assembly, forming a sizable antigovernment bloc.

But the movement also includes leftist student and labor groups, as well as Communist-front organizations that boycotted the National Assembly elections. They are committed instead to a "parliament of the streets" in the belief that Marcos can be brought down only by continued militant action. How long moderates and more radical forces can continue working together is uncertain. "The important thing to do now," said Businessman Noel Tolentino, one of the speakers at Rizal Park, "is to struggle toward finding a common unifying factor."

Delivering his anniversary homily at Santo Domingo Church, Jaime Cardinal Sin, Manila's outspoken primate, raised another question for Aquino's supporters: "Where do we go from here?" he asked. "Where is all this leading to? Marches, no matter how obstructed by tear gas and truncheons, must reach a destination. And rallies, despite the impassioned speeches, are meaningless if they do not attain their promised land."

Beset by a festering Communist insurgency in a number of the Philippines' 73 provinces and a gloomy economic situation--inflation at 50%, unemployment at 35%, an international debt of $25.6 billion--Marcos may find it politic to grant the opposition more maneuvering room. But his position could also harden, particularly if the findings of an independent commission, which has been investigating the Aquino assassination, implicate the government. In any case, Year Two promises to be a time of further testing, pitting an embattled Marcos against an increasingly bold opposition. --By Spencer Davidson. Reported by Sandra Burton and Nelly Sindayen/Manila

With reporting by Sandra Burton, Nelly Sindayen/Manila