Suffocation in Sanctimony : Aquino Holds Herself Aloof From Democracy, Hastens Decay

Mixing politics with religion is never a good idea, particularly when there are saints involved. Who needs checks and balances when the heart is pure? This is the paradox confronting Philippine democracy as the nation prepares for its first legislative elections (beginning in May) since the end of the 20-year dictatorship of Ferdinand E. Marcos.

Above politics, above suspicion--seemingly above everything--President Corazon S. Aquino has bestowed a liberal democratic order on the Philippines while remaining aloof from it. It is in tune with the unique Filipino character, her supporters affirm. But can democracy flourish anywhere as an act of grace? Such a question falls flat, like a bad joke in Manila today. It is, after all, the sort of thing that the Marcos people would say.

But it occurred to me after visiting the home of a renowned Filipino writer, justly celebrated for his unflinching defiance of Marcos. He was unchanged, still like a steam kettle rattling on the stove, spouting an endless stream of indignation, albeit this time directed against the “ineptitude and arrogance” of the “Cory order.” It seemed a healthy sign until I read his regular column in a prominent Manila daily. It was pure unction, in naked praise of Aquino.

What caused my friend to trim his conscience? Neither repression nor favoritism, I was convinced, but rather the suffocating blanket of sanctimony that hangs over the Philippines today. Nobody doubts Aquino’s good intentions. But this may be the problem. Democracies, after all, were designed with ordinary, power-craven mortals in mind. Who in the Philippines today can conceive of a tyranny of good intentions--let alone resist it?

Indeed, most Filipinos willfully confuse Aquino’s popularity with democracy, and cheerfully embrace the jerry-built Aquino dispensation that if anything has accelerated the decay of the Philippines’ once-proud democratic institutions. Take the Supreme Court. Aquino has replaced most Marcos-appointed judges, but the judiciary itself has taken another giant step toward sycophancy. Similarly, Aquino’s purge of the bureaucracy has confirmed its abdication, and the power grab of local offices by “officers-in-charge” from the winning side has further undermined public respect for the electoral process.

But it is Aquino’s decision not to run for a fresh election that reveals the most disturbing anti-democratic tendencies in the Cory cult. Instead, the president backed a constitutional plebiscite last January, which ended with an East European-scale yes vote. Why need Aquino run for election, her supporters aver, so soaring is her popularity? Was it not enough that she transferred her charisma to a constitution limiting her own powers?

The truth is that Aquino, like all “historic personalities,” believes in elections for everyone but herself--not because she fears losing but because she is convinced of her righteousness as the moral center of the “February revolution.” Her legitimacy thus flows from a higher source. But this is the old formula of all populist leaders in Asia--such as Indira Gandhi in India, Mujibur Rahman in Bangladesh and Syngman Rhee in South Korea. They all had their democratic interludes before “rising above politics” to save the nation from its politicians. And each came to a sticky end.

It may be premature to anticipate the next Philippine emergency, but the portents should not be ignored. Aquino’s party speaks in hushed tones of the delicate “transition to democracy” while the public mistakenly believes that it is already here. Thus, critical safeguards against the rise of another Marcos--such as the one-term-only presidency--do not apply to Aquino, who can stay in power legally until 1998 with only one election, five years away.

Characteristically, it is in bad taste to make this point in front of the public. The new constitution is swollen with the other “transition” features--notably martial-law provisions that, in a document celebrating the overthrow of Marcos, amount to a tacit admission that democracy cannot cope. Nor will the congressional veto restricting the president’s emergency powers fool anybody when the time comes. “Give me martial law for a morning and I’ll stretch it to a lifetime,” one Marcos-era politician observed. “What this country longs for is a Marcos with a rosary.”

Constitutions are driftwood on the tide of ideas. But this is where Aquino’s short-comings are most tragic. She has failed to infuse the ideal of democracy with elan and purpose, presenting it a year late after seizing revolutionary powers and then failing to do anything with them.

Meanwhile, the left is pounding the tom-tom of land reform, with its implicit charge that hers is democracy for the rich. If the congress to be elected in coming months lasts only a few years, it will not be because Aquino is greedy for power. Rather, it will be because the new democracy flows from her personal power, and not the other way around. When next called on to save the nation, she will no doubt respond with as much reluctance as she has this time. This is the fate of great personalities. And Aquino, like Marcos, numbers herself among such company.