Monday, Jul. 16, 1990

The Philippines A Muddle-Through Mode

By SANDRA BURTON MANILA

Even on relatively slow news days, the front-page headlines of Manila's 23 daily newspapers scream of worsening terrorism, new coup threats, prolonged power brownouts, mounting protests against U.S. military bases. Last week they were shrieking at a fever pitch. The U.S. Government had discovered that a Peace Corps volunteer working on the island of Negros had been kidnaped in June by communist insurgents; just days earlier, officials in Manila had denied that such Americans were at risk and had lambasted Washington for suspending the Philippines' Peace Corps program. Then came the even more riveting news that a New York court had cleared former First Lady Imelda Marcos of all charges that she had raided the Philippine treasury during her husband Ferdinand's tenure and invested the funds illegally in America, potentially opening the way for Imelda's return to Manila.

As embarrassing and disquieting as the latest news was, it's a safe bet that President Corazon Aquino took in the headlines with astonishing equanimity. On a recent morning in Manila, seated across from me in the calm of her office, the President confessed that she only read the front pages of eight papers. Her explanation was vintage Cory: "I want to start out the day feeling very positive and confident."

Positive thinking got Aquino where she is today. It has always been her most striking trait. But now it has been tempered by the experience of governing, the harsh realities of her country's condition and the perspective she has gained as the first of a swelling corps of leaders propelled into authority by people power. For better or worse, she is their role model. She is, in effect, writing the handbook on how to hang on even as she does so.

Ask Aquino why Filipinos hanker for another strongman so soon after Marcos' departure, and she demonstrates her tolerance: "The problem with some of our people is that they would like to have the best of both worlds. They would like me to have some dictatorial powers, with everybody else living under a democracy."

Accuse her of allowing herself to be bullied by an unruly Congress, and she takes offense: "Nobody bullies me. I dare anybody to come here and tell me what to do, because I feel I do not have any political debts to pay, and I only want to be President for one term."

Question her about why the military remains her gravest threat, and she reacts defensively at first: "Why am I being judged so severely? When I assumed office, I did not have a single general with me." On further reflection, she tells with self-deprecating humor how the armed forces Chief of Staff, General Renato de Villa, tried to cheer her up when Violeta Barrios de Chamorro, the newly elected President of Nicaragua, had to adjudicate between the Sandinista military and the contras: "At least, ma'am, you only have one army. She has two."

Four punishing years into her six-year term, Aquino remains surprisingly undaunted by the precarious state of her country and her tenuous grip on the helm. Her government is struggling to cope with a store of major problems -- economic, political and security-related -- which have created a growing crisis of confidence among liberal activists over the ability of fragile democratic institutions to deliver reform.

Negotiations over the future of U.S. military facilities in the Philippines pose another crucial test for Aquino, pitting growing Philippine demands for a less colonial relationship with the U.S. against practical economic and military questions. Both sides have toned down their rhetoric, but the talks, scheduled to resume in August, are expected to be difficult and prolonged. Eventually, Manila is expected to accept a new treaty that would gradually turn portions of the purely governmental installations over to private control. But on timing and money -- how much more the U.S. will pay above its current $481 million a year -- the two sides remain far apart.

The estimated $1 billion a year of income that the bases contribute to the economy is likely to be more crucial than ever, given the bleak prognosis for 1990. In the wake of a December 1989 coup attempt -- the seventh in three . years -- and a crippling power shortage, the government slashed rosy estimates of future foreign investment and pared projections for growth in the gross national product from 6% a year to 4%.

With civilian support ebbing, though still high for a lame-duck President, a military takeover attempt remains a constant threat. But the armed forces have been moving aggressively to reshuffle major commands, capture and court- martial rebel leaders and hamstring civilian sympathizers like former Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile by prosecuting them on charges of rebellion.

Yet the emergence of a younger and more idealistic group of dissident officers, known as the Young Officers Union, hints that coup threats are not likely to end with Aquino's term. There are signs that YOU is even more strongly opposed to a return to old-style politics, in which money and congressional clout are all that count. YOU officers helped their comrades bring down Ferdinand Marcos, then watched, says one, as they "forfeited power to a weak President" and "the military rushed to protect all the new fat-cat politicians."

While the U.S. recognizes Aquino's shortcomings, Washington is not about to countenance a premature end to her presidency. U.S. negotiator Richard Armitage said the "central tenet" of U.S. policy was "unqualified support for the leadership of President Corazon Aquino and the permanence of democracy." The Bush Administration has served notice to potential coup leaders that the overthrow of Aquino would result in termination of U.S. military and economic aid, as well as trade preferences.

At a time of high anxiety about Aquino's staying power, however, the prospect of a presidential election in May 1992 is probably the best anti-coup medicine around."The government has inertia on its side," says a Western diplomat, "which may prevent it from getting a lot of things done, but also protects it in an odd way. It is now in a muddle-through mode."

But can the system correct itself at the polls? As the electorate has discovered, democracy by itself does not solve problems: it simply holds them up to public scrutiny and invites participation in their resolution. Aquino's critics believe she has failed; she maintains that the public debate about whether or not that is so proves she is succeeding.

Looking forward to life after the presidency, a remarkably sanguine Aquino gamely offers to provide tea and sympathy to other novice world leaders who find themselves presiding over similar difficult political transitions. Says she: "Whenever I read about the problems of these new democratic leaders, I say oh-oh, you are just entering Grade 1. Wait and see what you are up against."

With reporting by Nelly Sindayen and William Stewart/Manila