The Philippines Praying For Time

By Howard G. Chua-Eoan

Life is a struggle for Milagros San Buenaventura. To feed her eleven children, she sells kalamansi, a bittersweet native lime, at market stalls in the city of Naga, 140 miles southeast of Manila. At night she prays hard, begging for protection against disasters that may strike at her, at her city, at her country. But the troubles keep coming closer. Two months ago rebels of the Communist New People's Army blew up four strategic bridges, severing rail lines between Naga and Manila. Soon after, the army escalated its war with the N.P.A., further disrupting the local economy. Then the market where San Buenaventura sold kalamansi burned to the ground. Crossing herself, the fruit vendor offers a prayer for President Corazon Aquino. "Cory is our guiding light," she says, "our savior. She has not sinned against her fellowmen. It's only the people around her who have wronged us."

The troubles have also arrived in Laoag, 300 miles to the north in Ilocos Norte province. Four weeks ago David Bueno, a human-rights lawyer, was getting into his car when two men on a motorcycle shot him dead. The murder remains unsolved, like almost all such cases in the Philippines. "After David died," says Bueno's brother Excel, "people in tattered clothes and bare feet came to say, 'Thank you for your brother. Without him no one would have fought for us.' " But not a word of condolence came from Aquino's Human Rights Commission. "I want to support Cory because I think she's sincere," Excel says bitterly. "But sometimes I hate her."

Nearly two years after Aquino won her war of good against evil, the forces of darkness are again threatening to overwhelm the Philippines. Aquino's once unassailable hold on popular support is slowly slipping, and the country is on the brink of chaos. Though she has painstakingly restored democracy, she has not been able to usher in paradise. Instead, the threat of apocalypse hangs over the Philippines. As Aquino tries to rid the country of the corrupt legacy of Ferdinand Marcos, an increasing number of Filipinos fear that her government is running out of steam. "We expected decency in government. We expected efficiency," says Antonio Oposa, a lawyer in the central Philippine city of Cebu. "Maybe that's too much to expect of one woman." He adds, "We don't need a saint for a President." Says Excel Bueno: "We need a strong President -- and discipline."

Aquino's problems came into sharp focus after the bloody August mutiny of Colonel Gregorio ("Gringo") Honasan. The unsuccessful uprising revealed a faction-ridden military envious of Aquino's power and unwilling to give up the political clout it had gained under Marcos. The mutiny's chief blow, however, was struck at the President's almost blind faith that the democratic institutions she had restored would lead the country out of its economic and political morass. The relative serenity of her first few months in power was, after Honasan's coup attempt, reinterpreted as weakness.

To counter that perception, Aquino has visited N.P.A. war zones, raised military pay to quiet the restive soldiers, delivered tough-sounding speeches and demanded that radical labor unions end their strikes and obey back-to-work court orders. Aquino can claim some credit for this year's expected 5% rate of economic growth, an impressive figure after three years of negative and near zero expansion. Yet the resurgent economy has only begun to replenish the depleted treasury. Aquino's attempts to run an efficient government and an effective war against the N.P.A. are hampered by a lack of funds. An expected surge in U.S. aid has turned out to be a mere trickle. Because of the Gramm- Rudman budget-balancing law, the State Department has had to scale down its 1988 request for economic and military assistance to the Philippines from $471.8 million in 1987 to $267.3 million. Egypt and Israel alone account for 40% of all U.S. foreign aid, while the Philippines -- site of the two largest U.S. military bases on foreign soil -- this year received only 3.5%. Says a State Department official: "The picture is totally bleak."

The political picture in the Philippines also remains grim. Byzantine intrigues continue to be launched against Aquino. To distract the nervous capital, her enemies on both the right and the left freely sow sensationalist rumors among Manila's 28 newspapers. The city's coffee shops and political salons cultivate witticisms to poison the President's reputation. One favorite is a Spanish pun on the name Corazon C. Aquino. With a finger at the chest, the speaker says, "Corazon, si" (she has a heart); with a finger at the head, he continues, "Aqui, no" (here, nothing).

Last month Aquino's disaffected Vice President, Salvador Laurel, secretly | sent feelers to Honasan, who remains at large in or around Manila and constantly threatens to strike again with rebel soldiers. Laurel, who has publicly attacked Aquino and her policies, wanted assurances that the colonel would not stage a coup while the Vice President was in the U.S. on a speaking tour. Laurel was afraid that if Aquino were ousted from the presidency while he was abroad, he would be maneuvered out of the succession. Aquino, meanwhile, was not above tweaking her Vice President. Members of Philippine consulates in the U.S. were forbidden to attend Laurel's speeches.

Even as rumors of new military uprisings swirl, the Communists have begun to show their hand in the capital, infiltrating its unruly confines with small assassination squads known as Sparrow units, so called for their small size and great mobility. This year more than 150 policemen and soldiers have been killed. To counter the hit squads, Manila police -- with Aquino's reluctant approval -- have organized gangs of vigilantes to drive out the Communists. Last week more than 4,000 Manila residents signed up for duty. Those who are accepted will be issued weapons and given training. The Communists are fighting back. Police last week found the body of a man in a cloth bag along a Manila highway. On the sack were the words THIS IS A VIGILANTE. Says Max Soliven, a columnist for the daily Philippine Star: "The seeds of civil war are being sown, and nobody can predict where it will all end."

Tension is high in the provinces. In Cebu, one of the country's largest cities, Communist violence has become an everyday threat for policemen, politicians and even ordinary citizens. Lawyer Antonio Oposa used to ride his horse into the mottled green hills behind his house on the edge of Cebu. No more. "It's a no-man's-land," he says. "Army helicopters buzz here every morning." In February 1986 Oposa and his friends danced in the streets when Aquino came to power. Now they often sit around his comfortable home and complain about the way the country is run. The lawyer sometimes ends the discussions with rueful sarcasm: "Well, at least we have freedom."

The N.P.A.'s shadow is almost everywhere. In Ilocos Norte last week, four mayors of small towns sought refuge in Laoag after the guerrillas kidnaped workers at a nearby construction site. One evening, after a reporter rode through the hills outside Laoag to a military camp, the commander said, "I am surprised to see you. I don't even allow my men to travel that road at this hour. Things may look normal, but they aren't." The province, which is Marcos' ancestral home, has been deprived of the pork-barrel largesse that rolled its way during his regime. Aquino has not visited the province, and she would hardly be welcomed if she did. Yet, uncharacteristically for a Philippine politician, she has not wreaked vengeance on Ilocos Norte. It merely suffers as all other provinces do.

Few provinces are as neglected as Sulu, close to the southern tip of the Philippines, about 500 miles from Manila. Sulu's capital, Jolo, has deteriorated markedly even though it gave Aquino 95% of its votes during her run for the presidency. Violent local feuds often flare, and for three months the city has had no electricity. Muslim secessionists threaten to break out in open warfare. Says Mayor Aminkadra Abubakar: "Every day I send ((Aquino)) a letter and a telegram, reminding her of what ought to be done here. I never get a direct reply."

Aquino's problems are likely to proliferate. The N.P.A. last week announced that it was including among its targets American businesses on the island of Mindanao. Some Filipinos believe the move is a ploy to cast Aquino as a lackey of U.S. imperialism. Said Opposition Senator Juan Ponce Enrile: "The N.P.A. will say, 'We're only fighting American imperialists. So why is the Philippine government shooting at us?' " The local elections scheduled for Jan. 18 are bound to be violent. For one thing, minor rivalries between small-town politicos could turn into bloody feuds multiplied hundreds of times over across the country. For another, N.P.A.-supported candidates are expected to run, coming into certain conflict with the vigilantes.

Despite her travails and the nostalgia among many Filipinos for a stronger, Marcos-like leader, Aquino remains the only symbol that unifies the country. "The people are frustrated, betrayed," says Political Scientist Randy David. "Even so, they make excuses for a presidency they adore." But while they can live with Aquino, her constituents on the left, right and center cannot live with one another. At the same time, the President's numerous enemies wait for their chance to strike. U.S. State Department officials believe that Marcos, in exile in Hawaii, is plotting to assassinate Aquino. They suggest that he is trying to enlist the aid of Honasan in the scheme. But Honasan is unlikely to help. Dissatisfaction with the dictator led him to play an important role in the uprising that brought Aquino to power.

& In Naga city, Milagros San Buenaventura senses that time is running out. She and thousands of other Naga residents were shocked when a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary fell into a local river during a recent procession. A bad omen, the fruit vendor believes, and perhaps a warning. "She can punish all of us," says the fruit vendor of the Virgin. "But, please, she should spare our beloved President." In Manila, Cory Aquino is no doubt saying a similar prayer for her country.

With reporting by Jay Branegan/Laoag and Nelly Sindayen/Naga