People Power Is No Substitute for a Strong Democracy

For the second time in 15 years, Filipinos have ousted a president through an uprising staged on the streets of Manila. Both uprisings were peaceful, festive and carnival-like. In both, the Catholic Church, business community, urban middle class and military played a key role. Even the site of the uprisings was the same: a highway in Manila named EDSA, where, in 1986, hundreds of thousands of people massed in front of two military camps to protect a renegade army faction that had unsuccessfully attempted a coup against dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos.

The first “people power” uprising was the toast of the international community, inspiring similar movements in countries struggling under the yoke of authoritarian regimes. “People power II,” which resulted in the ouster of a corrupt but democratically elected president, Joseph Estrada, produced more tentative and cautionary reviews.

The Philippines, after all, is a democracy with institutional mechanisms to check the excesses of officeholders. Estrada had been on trial in the Senate for corruption, bribery and violations of the constitution. For months, the media had reported on the president’s lavish lifestyle and various indiscretions, including multiple mistresses ensconced in palatial mansions.

Until earlier this month, the democratic process appeared to be working well. An impeached president was being tried in public, and the checks and balances on which democracy depend seemed firmly in place: the legislative branch was holding the executive branch accountable, citizens’ groups were staging peaceful protests and the media were reporting with unrestrained vigor on the events. It was a situation vastly different from that of the Marcos era, when dissenters and journalists were suppressed and the president exercised monopoly power.

But things fell apart on Jan. 16, when 11 of the 21 senators acting as jurors at the impeachment trial voted against opening an envelope containing details of a bank account under the name Jose Velarde that allegedly belonged to Estrada. That piece of evidence was expected to bolster the charges against the president and lead to his conviction.

To most Filipinos, the senators’ vote compromised the integrity of the trial and appeared to pave the way for Estrada’s acquittal. Just two hours after the trial was suspended, thousands of citizens who had been watching the proceedings on television were out on the streets, honking car horns, shouting slogans and demanding that Estrada resign. Hundreds of thousands more joined them in succeeding days, and all refused to leave EDSA until the president quit. On the third day of protests, the military’s top brass appeared on EDSA and announced that it was withdrawing support for the embattled president. Twenty-four hours later, the generals escorted the disgraced Estrada out of the presidential palace. Abandoned by his troops, his cabinet and his cronies, the president had no choice but to go.

The interpretation of events that led to Estrada’s fall is now being contested. Some sectors of the army credit the military, not people power, for Estrada’s exit. This has fueled anxiety that, as in the aftermath of the 1986 uprising, the military might assert its power and undermine civilian rule. There is also the fear that impatient citizens may resort to a military-backed popular uprising in the future should a political institution falter.

Such fears are exaggerated. The combination of events that led to the 1986 and 2001 uprisings is not readily replicated. Popular outrage is not so easily stirred up. In fact, the 15 years between the uprisings were notable for their lack of rage. A complacent citizenry had tolerated corrupt and unaccountable leaders, voting them into office despite their proven malfeasance.

While events in 1986 began with a military revolt, people power circa 2001 was a civilian uprising that was eventually supported by the army. The era of coups has passed in the Philippines. The five that were staged by renegade soldiers after Marcos’ fall collapsed, in large measure because they did not have any popular support; it is similarly unlikely that a military putsch against Estrada would have succeeded.

Although some adventurous military factions, with the support of discredited politicians, were plotting to strike against Estrada, they were overtaken by events. The military hierarchy preempted the plotters when it saw the hundreds of thousands of people on the streets. There is no evidence that the generals intended to seize power for themselves, as the colonels did in 1986; they intervened only to prevent bloodshed and a fissure in the armed forces. Furthermore, they supported Vice President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s promotion to the presidency.

Critics contend that both the 1986 and 2001 revolts were largely middle-class uprisings that resulted in the installation of the same elite that has ruled the Philippines for generations. The new president is very much part of this privileged class, and so are most of those in her inner circle. The poor, among whom the populist Estrada enjoyed passive support, were left out of the loop, both in the uprising and in its aftermath.

But neither was Estrada, despite his popularity among the masses, the defender of the poor he claimed to be. His government did little to address the problems of mass poverty. While he spoke their language and was loved by them, Estrada manipulated the poor as much as his predecessors did. He stoked their resentment against the rich without providing them with anything tangible in return.

In the end, what is regrettable is not that people power succeeded; it is that democratic institutions failed either to provide relief to the poor or to hold the powerful accountable. The integrity of key institutions--the presidency, which Estrada so brazenly corrupted, and the Senate, which most Filipinos believed was incapable of holding an impartial trial--is in shambles. And the poor are no better off in a democracy than they were under dictatorship.

The alternative to people power II would have been the acquittal of a corrupt president and a loss of faith in democracy’s capacity to hold officials accountable. Such a situation would have been an invitation to anarchy and military adventurism. Everyone, whether rich or poor, would have been worse off. The events that produced a new president were the best of possible outcomes in a young and imperfect democracy.

The Philippines is probably the only country in the world where “people power” is enshrined in the constitution. Filipinos have a flair for staging uprisings. They have an affinity for the streets. They go there to congregate and celebrate. The streets are also where they express their rage and where they define what democracy and citizenship are all about.

To those who took part in the uprising that ousted Estrada, the task ahead is clear: Democratic institutions must be made stronger. Confidence must be restored in the presidency and the Senate. Government has to be cleaned up. Poverty must be addressed. But these are easier said than done, especially with the economy in disarray and the government in hock.

But Filipinos are not starting from scratch. They now know that the struggle does not end after the fall of an abusive president. Many citizens have not let down their guard. They have learned that the hard work begins when the partying is over and the euphoria has gone.