The dictator Ferdinand Marcos Sr. ruled the Philippines for more than 20 years—until he was ousted by a woman supported by other women.
Back in 1986, Ferdinand Marcos Sr.—a man who had ruled the Philippines as President for over 20 years—was replaced by someone who was, in many ways, his opposite: a woman who had never held public office before taking the highest political seat in the land.
Her name was Corazon Aquino, Cory to many. And when she ran against Marcos, he said that she should be nowhere near the presidency because she was “just a woman.”
This, of course, was incorrect. Born in Paniqui, Tarlac, Cory was—first and foremost—also a Filipina who lived much of her life in the Philippines with all her senses intact. She knew that Marcos—a man who once promised economic growth for his country—failed to deliver as confirmed by the tanking of the Philippine economy. She was also aware of the allegations of corruption tied to his administration; how he supposedly used the pursuit of his initial campaign promises to make himself and his allies wealthier.
Additionally, she saw how the mounting opposition towards him was eventually met with much force; how the protests against his administration were used to place the country under martial law. In this state, he gained the power to brazenly silence his critics through trumped-up charges, incarceration, torture and even death. And she believed that he wielded this power because she was also a wife. Her husband, Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr., was a popular and vocal critic of Marcos. He was assassinated during martial law by a gunman she believed was under his payroll.
With his death, she gained another distinction: a challenger. She knew this came with risks but as she said once “I would rather die a meaningful death than to live a meaningless life.” And so she stood up to him. She became a woman with a mission, one explicated in the campaign slogan she used to challenge his presidency: “Tama na! Sobra na! Palitan na!” In English, this roughly translates to “Enough! It’s gone too far! We need change.”
Some of her supporters have been saying something similar for years and among them were people like her: women who couldn’t be “just women” under the rule of such a man.
The New Society
Before the Philippines was even a country, various parts of this archipelago practiced some degree of gender egalitarianism.
Some women were viewed in high regard and were respected as leaders. An example of them were the babaylans, shamans who were revered because of their wisdom and supposed connections to the spirit realm.
When the Spaniards came, however, this changed. With superior science and military, they used a combination of cultural assimilation, religious suppression and military force to supplant women like the babaylans and introduce the male-dominated Catholic faith, this religion with patriarchal standards like the Christian family structure that demanded wives to be fully submissive to their husbands. It is this same structure which promoted the idea that women’s roles should be limited to the household.
Over time, the Spaniards managed to take control of the group of islands that eventually got named after their king and the idea of absolute male authority became the norm. Women—once valued decision-makers in Philippine society—were pushed into the shadows, silenced.
But even under such a period, women were never fully subdued in the Philippines. For starters, some babaylans resisted conversion to Catholicism and continued to practice their faith in secret. Additionally, when the country began to resist the Spanish occupation, many women got involved. Revolutionaries like Gabriela Silang, Gregoria de Jesus and Melchora Aquino (not directly related to Cory) highlighted the reality that women still remained active in the endeavor of nation building.
That spirit persisted long after the Spanish gave up the Philippines. It outlived the nation’s status as a colony and was there when it gained independence. It was present in the 20th century to see Marcos rise into power.
He was the Senate President once, viewed favorably for his supposed intelligence and political savvy. He was said to have been an excellent student, topping the bar exam in 1939 with a near perfect score. When he went into public office, he soon proved to be an effective orator and debater.
He was an ally of his predecessor, former President Diosdado Macapagal. But, in 1965, he joined the Nacionalista Party and ran against him.
During his campaign, Marcos heavily emphasized his supposed record as a war hero, decorated for his involvement in World War II. He also positioned himself as a strong, decisive leader who promised to bring economic progress and political stability to his country. His campaign then attacked Macapagal’s administration for supposed counts of corruption, and the alleged mismanagement of the economy, which resulted in his failure to curb the rise of prices.
With a well-organized and well-funded campaign, Marcos won the presidency. His inauguration took place on December 30, 1965 and it was marked as the start of the “Bagong Lipunan” (New Society in English.) But it turned out to be a newness that many did not want.
Among the key elements of Marcos’ first term were the massive infrastructure projects pursued by his government. While these were initially viewed favorably by the public for its capacity to create jobs and modernize the country, they eventually set the stage for a host of anomalies.
For starters, Marcos financed these projects through extensive foreign loans which have reached around $28.3 billion by the end of his term. The aggressive borrowing led to a balance of payment crisis and inflation that worsened the economic situation he said he’d fix.
Critics of the administration also believed that some of these projects—like the Cultural Center of the Philippines—were done to sell an illusion of progress instead of actually providing long-term benefits for the country. They also brought up the fact that many of such projects were handled by his cronies. They got richer through them.
A number of the projects were also plagued with allegations of overpricing and kickbacks. Chief among them was the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant which was criticized for a myriad of issues including concerns about its location, construction defects, and cost overruns. Marcos and his associates reportedly got substantial kickbacks from this project which didn’t even get completed. It was meant to be the Philippines’ entry into nuclear energy.
Such pursuits, however, did serve a purpose. In the next election cycle, Marcos used these projects to market his first term as a model of effective leadership. This propaganda effort was supported by his supposedly large campaign spending.
In his book “Dead Aim: How Marcos Ambushed Philippine Democracy,” political reporter Conrado de Quiros quoted Ninoy who said that for every peso spent by Sergio Osmena (Marcos’ opponent then,) the president spent 100. In a PhilStar article by Audrey Morallo, it was stated that this level of spending led to the peso crashing.
Marcos won but it came with a price that the public paid.
The Philippines was the second largest economy in Asia before the Marcos presidency. His run as head of the state, however, saw the nation fall into debt. Unemployment started rising, and prices of basic goods went up with it. This resulted in public unrest that had Marcos curling his fist.
State of the nation
On January 26, 1970, Marcos gave his 5th State of the Nation Address (SONA) before the Congress but he wasn’t the only one who did so.
Near the venue of Marcos’ speech, thousands of protestors gathered to bring up his administration’s failings.
When Marcos left Congress, demonstrators (many of them were student activists) booed and threw sticks and placards at him and his party. The anti-riot security forces then attacked the rallyists leading to the injury of about 300 youth protestors.
This was the beginning of the First Quarter Storm (FQS,) a series of months full of protests that shook the Marcos presidency, and it also saw the rise of militant women.
There was Nelia Sancho, the first runner-up of the 1969 Binibining Pilipinas beauty pageant, which selects the country’s representative for Miss Universe. She joined the protests before later being one of the co-founders of Gabriela Women’s Party—a progressive, pro-women organization that remains active to this day. Then there’s Judy Taguiwalo, a woman who would much later become the Secretary of the Department of Social Welfare and Development; during this era, she was a student leader and activist. Another prominent name was Maria Lorena Barros, a student activist and writer who graduated cum laude from the University of the Philippines. She was the founder of the Malayang Kilusan ng Bagong Kababaihan (MAKIBAKA,) a feminist organization that sought to address the oppression of women and other societal problems. Many others stood by them, women at the frontlines of rallies who yelled the popular activist chant: “makibaka, wag matakot.” This means “fight; don’t be afraid” even though they had reasons to be.
The FQS gave the Marcos administration the excuse it needed to declare martial law and the “state of the nation” worsened from there.
This proclamation suspended the writ of habeas corpus. This meant that individuals could no longer challenge their detention in court. Also, arrests without warrants were made legal. This led some activists to feel so disillusioned by the government that some of them chose to take extreme measures.
Barros was one of them. She joined the New People’s Army, the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines. In October 1973, then pregnant, she was caught by the military and was interrogated and tortured, thus leading to her miscarriage.
Around two years later, she escaped and resumed revolutionary activities. On March 24, 1976, the military managed to track her down and she died from the encounter. In Six Young Filipino Martyrs, a collection of stories from various writers, Maita Gomez, also a scholar, activist and beauty pageant titleholder like Sancho, wrote that Barros’ body was subjected to indignities. Apparently, soldiers were heard commenting on her beautiful legs and a film crew shooting a movie nearby took pictures beside her corpse.
This is but one of the many stories about women that occurred during the Marcos regime. Through martial law, many of them were subjected to various forms of torment. Still, many—after getting beaten down–didn’t stop standing up and eventually, they caused Marcos himself to stand down.
The martyr
When people from the Philippines are asked to identify the start of Marcos’ downfall, many tend to point to one event felt throughout the nation: the death of Ninoy.
Ninoy was a key opposition figure. Like Marcos, he was something of an achiever. At 17, he was a war correspondent covering the Korean War for the Manila Times (when it was still under Don Chino Roces.) At 22, he became the youngest mayor of Tarlac. At 27, he became the youngest vice governor of the province. By the time he turned 29, he was already a governor—again the youngest in the country. This pioneering habit continued when he became a senator at 34.
Ninoy was also known for his intelligence; a great orator capable of delivering long and factual speeches supposedly without notes. He had many similarities to Marcos but unlike the president, he was against authoritarian rule. And this difference put them at odds with each other.
Ninoy was among the first politicians to call out Marcos for the shortcomings and abuses of his government. And even before martial law was enacted, Ninoy warned that something of that nature was could be pursued by Marcos. True enough, he did. And Ninoy, being a critic of it, was accused of communist ties and was arrested.
“The government sought to break him by indignities and terror,” Cory once said in a speech before the United States (US) Congress. “They locked him up in a tiny, nearly airless cell in a military camp in the north. They stripped him naked and held the threat of a sudden midnight execution over his head. Ninoy held up manfully under all of it. I barely did, as well.”
He was tried and was sentenced to death on November 25, 1977 on what Cory believed to be trump up charges of subversion, murder and illegal possession of firearms.
In 1980, however, Ninoy suffered a heart attack and it was revealed that he had a blocked artery. He refused to be operated on by doctors in the Philippines, however, because he feared that those who would be chosen to work on him may jeopardize his health under Marcos’ orders. He gave authorities two choices: either they allowed him to return to his cell and die or go to the United States for treatment.
His request was granted. Ninoy left the country with his entire family and the trip became an opportunity for him to seek protection in the US and start a new life in Boston. According to Cory, those were some of the happiest years of their marriage.
Ninoy, however, was fully aware of his importance as a leadership figure in the Philippines. He felt that he had to return and face Marcos even though he had received warnings that he could either get arrested or killed. To this, he had the famous response taken on video: “if it’s my fate to die by an assassin’s bullet, so be it,” he said. “But I cannot be petrified by inaction, or fear of assassination, and therefore stay in the side.”
He didn’t. And not long after landing in the Philippines for the first time in years, as soon as he set foot on the tarmac, a bullet turned him into a martyr.
The widow
The death of Ninoy had two major effects: it lowered Marcos’ reputation and elevated Cory’s.
The latter became a figure of much interest in the country, often invited to speak at rallies meant to criticize the president. The former, meanwhile, came under fire from critics both in the Philippines and abroad.
Politicians from the US, for example, have expressed concerns over the state of democracy in the Philippines, compromising the military and economic aid the former promised to the latter. Other countries also expressed a mix of worry and disappointment. Among them were key allies like Japan, Australia, Canada, and the United Kingdom.
It soon became clear that Marcos needed to rehabilitate his image. So, he announced that the Philippines would have a snap election for his seat—a democratic event that he could use to sell to the world the idea that the Filipino people still stood by his leadership. “Marcos pa rin” or (“Marcos still” in English) was his slogan and he wanted to give the impression that this is the general sentiment in his country.
But Ninoy’s allies thought otherwise. They believed that there was a chance that his death had galvanized the country enough to democratically kick Marcos out of the presidency. Ninoy’s funeral, after all, had millions ushering him to his grave. They wanted to capitalize on this by drafting the person closest to him when he was alive: his wife.
Cory initially refused. But she changed her mind when she was presented with a petition signed by millions. And so, under the party called The United Nationalist Democratic Organization, she ran for president.
During the campaign, Marcos attacked her with comments that were either patronizing or sexist. According to a report by UPI, Marcos said in a speech that he was “embarrassed” to run against a woman and that his father had taught him “never to argue with a woman.”
He criticized her mild-mannered demeanor. He said “timid women shouldn’t challenge men.” He then added that “[women] should be intelligent but they should keep it to themselves or limit their teachings to the bedroom.”
He also hit her for lacking experience in politics. To this, the latter responded by taking a shot at Marcos’ reputation. She pretended to agree with him only to blindside the dictator by saying that she didn’t have experience in his kind of politics.
“It’s true,” she said. “I have no experience in cheating, lying to the public, stealing government money, and killing political opponents.”
And this was part of her appeal. Aside from representing the people Marcos wronged, she also represented an ideal—this aspiration of a leader vastly different from what the Philippines had to endure for more than 20 years. She was change personified. But Marcos wasn’t willing to give in to it without a fight.
Come the day of the election, various allegations of electoral fraud, intimidation, and vote buying in favor of Marcos were reported. But these were just parts of his alleged plot to cheat his way to victory.
On February 9, 1986, 35 computer technicians working for the Commission on Elections (Comelec)—30 of which were women who didn’t “limit their teachings to the bedroom”—abandoned their posts. The tabulators left the tallying process when it became clear to them that it was rigged to give Marcos the win.
Linda Kapunan-Hill, a representative of the group, said later that while Cory was leading in their reports, the tally board claimed that Marcos was. This was in line with the separate count being done by the National Citizens’ Movement for Free Elections (Namfrel,) a non-government watchdog. According to them, Cory won.
It became clear to the Comelec employees that their superiors were working for Marcos. Feeling that this could damage their credibility, they got up and walked out. Once again, women were the thorns on Marcos’ side and this time they pierced deep.
When Comelec announced that Marcos won, Cory, learning of the fraud, the walkout, and the Namfrel results held her own victory rally which was attended by millions. In this gathering, she denounced the Marcos administration yet again and called for people to engage in civil disobedience by boycotting all that were owned and operated by Marcos cronies: from banks to publications to the country’s electricity provider. The people complied.
Additionally, they’ve also begun filling up the streets; many of them surrounded military camps in Quezon City to protect a faction of the military that suddenly announced their defection. Their numbers swelled enough to put Metro Manila in a standstill. Marcos ordered them dispersed and his soldiers came with guns and tanks but the protestors engaged them—peacefully, as per Cory’s request. They tried to win them over. Footage from this rally showed some of them appealing to the humanity of the armed men. Nuns were even seen handing out flowers and food and offering prayers to the soldiers who were there to drive them away. This charm offensive worked for some; they laid down their arms and crossed over to the other side.
Ultimately, these were the elements that formed what is now known as the People Power Revolution. It is also known now as the EDSA Rally because of the amount of people that occupied the Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA,) one of the major thoroughfares of the capital region. This led to the final showdown between Marcos and the one he once deemed to be “just a woman.”
On February 25, 1986, two people were sworn in as the next President of the Philippines, and they were vastly different from each other.
One was a career politician, once again vying for reelection after he had been in power for more than 20 years; the other was a housewife who had never occupied a public post. If the former was the head of a martial rule that saw the deaths, incarcerations and torture of thousands, the latter was widowed by it. And if Marcos was declared the winner by Comelec, Cory was declared winner by the watchdog monitoring it.
Both had separate inaugurations on the same day; Cory first at a place near EDSA; Marcos after in Malacanang Palace, his home and office. But on February 26, only one of them remained president.
Marcos abandoned his seat and he and his family left for the US. This was because there was another point of difference between him and Cory. Marcos was at the receiving end of a massive, unyielding protest and Cory was at the center of that protest.
She became the will of the people, their chosen leader, a woman that would later be known as the mother of Philippine democracy.
She was, at that time, president—and a lot of other things that Marcos was not and could no longer be.
