Erap and EDSA 3: Myths and Beyond
BY BONN
AURE
Give
me your wretched poor…Yes give them to me and I will keep them wretched and
poor, but will perform the miracle of making them think they are affluent and
well. Yes give them to me and I will make them think that there has never been a
nation of people more fortunate. Yes give them to me and I will hide their
wrinkles with cosmetics, drown their cries with delicacies, and cover their
weaknesses with exotic fabrics. (Julius
Lester)
Philippine politics is in an era where
mass media—which has been described as an extension of one’s mouth—plays a
dominant role. Mass media is so commanding that it can mobilize people into
action, influence election results, and even, it seems, change governments.
Indeed, the series of uprisings from 1986 to the present have been credited to
media’s ability to break into the mass consciousness and form icons and
symbols therein. Joseph Ejercito Estrada is a contemporary icon and, depending
who you ask, is the epitome of the hero or anti-hero.
Pres. Arroyo was flabbergasted when an
“enterprising Presidential Anti-Organized Crime Task Force (PAOCTF)
official” sold a video of a humbled Estrada to the local and international
media. Estrada was shown in police custody and grim-faced as his mug shots were
taken. A noted TV commentator said that the sight was enough to move people to
take the deposed president’s side. And, certainly, this was supposed to have
given the “EDSA III” instigators the spark needed to start an uprising.
For it is supposedly detestable to the
Filipino masa’s psyche for a
president—who was also an action star to boot—to be behind bars. What more
that contemporary Goebbels so successfully portrayed Estrada as the people’s
martyr persecuted for having sided with the poor and downtrodden. The
advertising genius of those behind the Erap-the-persecuted mystique is really
close to extraordinary.
The Power of Myths
Estrada’s demagogic power draws
strength from the mass media’s ability to create and popularize the Erap
myth—a myth that the common folk, including both the tattooed and the
religious, can empathize with. Estrada was characterized in his cinema years as
a man of the poor or, as columnist Conrado de Quiros aptly said, a criminal with
a heart of gold, a Tondo Robin Hood. He is the demigod who rose from the
gutter and delivered light to the people.
Erap’s propaganda machine gets much
of the credit for his transformation from a small-time city mayor to a national
political figure. It effectively wove the movie icon with the general sentiment
against poverty and injustice.
When he was vice-president and head of
the Presidential Anti-Crime Commission (PACC), he toughened up his image further
by figuring prominently in spectacular cases. During his presidential stint, he
was Geron Busabos—tough on “wrongdoers” (as when he launched the
Total War Policy against the NPA, MILF, and Abu Sayyaf) but gentle with the
poor. He was the Crime Buster, at least until he was busted with millions in his
pockets.
Philippine politics is not far removed
from the glitter and glamour of showbiz. Politicians package themselves so that
people see them as bigger than life, as Supermen among mortals. The challenge to
them is to create the appropriate character who will appeal to the public. If
Erap portrayed himself as Geron Busabos, Gloria is Ate Glo. If
Alfredo Lim is the “Dirty Harry” of Manila, Noli de Castro is Kabayang
Noli.
But the game works both ways. A
politician’s reputation can also be destroyed by resorting to the erstwhile
children’s game of name-calling. When elevated to the realm of politics, it
becomes the serious business of black propaganda and character assassination.
Miriam was the tough graft buster before she became Ms. Tililing or
Brenda (i.e. “brain-damaged”). Tessie Aquino capitalized on his brother
Ninoy’s popularity with the catchphrase “Kapatid ni Ninoy” yet now,
after her gyrations during the impeachment trial, she’s Ms. Pokpok.
Beyond the Myth
However Estrada’s power goes beyond
the cultural myth. He also has political and economic clout courtesy of a
section of the traditional ruling elite, particularly of the once-dominant
Marcos-era elite bloc, which backed him up and turned him into a force to reckon
with. In return he granted his patrons political and economic concessions.
Early on, Estrada approved the burial
of Ferdinand Marcos in the Libingan ng mga
Bayani to appease his Ilokano
patrons (though this was nipped in the bud by a vigilant public). Danding
Cojuangco wrested control of San Miguel Corporation from the Sorianos while
Lucio Tan took over the airline industry. Other cronies were able to tap GSIS
and SSS funds. His closest friends and his numerous families partook of the
spoils due bureaucrat capital.
Ironically, it was the failure of the
Arroyo government to expedite the arrest of Erap and his cronies’ and the
freezing of their assets that allowed the EDSA 3 putsch to take place. They
retained their cache of money—to feed the mob and buy a few mercenary military
officials—and horde of men.
In the meantime, Miriam Santiago and
her cohorts fired up the dazed pro-Erap masa
to troop to Malacañang, as if to to haul the diminutive President Arroyo
out of power, amidst a hail of bullets and against phalanxes of battle-scarred
Marines and fuming anti-riot squads. Tear gas filled the air; anti-riot
policemen swung their truncheons like baseball bats in gangland while the kanto
boys countered with stones, knives, steel pipes, indian
pana, etc., etc. Yet the leaders who egged the people on with shouts of “Walang
iwanan!,” were absent from the combat zone.
Blood flowed but, in the final
analysis, EDSA 3 was an exercise in futility. The loyalists scampered in all
directions while their leaders ran, tails between their legs, and holed up in
their plush mansions to grieve over the death of their political ambitions. The masa
were rounded up and literally dragged to prison, all bruised, humbled, and
abandoned.
EDSA 3: Bound to Fail
EDSA 3, a poor copy of People Power 1
and 2 in substance as well as in form, was bound to fail. It didn’t have the
ingredients for a successful uprising. For one, the moral imperative was absent
and there was only Estrada, a most ineffective rallying point.
The most the Erap clique could do was
gather Estrada’s remaining political followers and augment these with the
religious flock of El Shaddai and Iglesia ni Cristo. But these religious groups,
comprising perhaps half of the protestors, backed out at the last minute before
the siege of Malacañang.
Moreover, Arroyo was careful to quickly
woo the military upon her ascension to power, aware that it was a sword that
could fall on her head. Former President Fidel Ramos and former NICA chief Jose
Almonte consolidated their hold on the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) and
Philippine National Police (PNP), systematically dismantling Erap’s own
machinery. Officials closely linked with Erap and his cronies were reassigned or
put on floating status. All the Erap clique had left were a few officials led by
Cesar Mancao and Jake Macalajacan, who were both on floating status after People
Power 2. The dreaded PAOCTF was disbanded and its criminal activities exposed to
the public.
To give her government a respite which
would enable her to focus on combating the right-wing elements led by the
Estrada clique, Arroyo also courted militarily active insurgents by offering
them the peace pipe. The strategy of peace negotiations and the forming of
tactical alliances with the Left and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF)
insurgents served the government well and there was a marked decrease in rebel
offensives. Moreover, civil society organizations were supporting Arroyo against
the power grab.
EDSA 3 is a sad chapter in the history
of Philippine politics but it is bound to be repeated. Until an enlightened
leadership and an empowered masa burst
forth, Philippine politics will continue to be the playing ground of the
corrupt and of opportunists. #