I refer to the likes of Cory Aquino, Ping Lacson, Teofisto Guingona, Imee Marcos, that irredeemably angry head of the La Salle brothers, that group of resigned Cabinet officials that has become so nondescript they continue to be named after a hotel and the limelight-hungry lawyers from a minuscule leftist faction. Obsessed with re-creating the 1986 Edsa Uprising, they convinced themselves that a minor spat at the Philippine Marines was the beginning of yet another pointless upheaval.
When the Marines sorted out the misunderstanding late Sunday night, the washed-out political personalities who gathered at Fort Bonifacio – always within tight camera range – quietly slithered into the darkness, hoping the public would soon forget the great farce that just happened.
They had, plainly and simply, made complete fools of themselves in their gallant effort to make fools of us all.
Sunday’s drama was a useless expenditure of time, energy and passion.
From what could be gathered as of this writing, the tiring drama last Sunday began when the Navy Flag Officer in Command relieved the Marine Commandant, Maj. Gen. Renato Miranda. That was, from the looks of it, a prudent move. The information gathered about the quashed coup attempt, it appears that a group of soldiers were supposed to have made an appearance before the gathered horde at Edsa. Their withdrawal of support from government was supposed to be announced by a Marine general.
The relief would have been a routine administrative act. Miranda’s deputy, Brig. Gen. Nelson Allaga, was initially issued orders to assume the post of commandant in an acting capacity – probably an indication that Miranda could be returned to his post after he was cleared of the derogatory information against him.
The trouble began when a bad-tempered and severely voluble Marine colonel, Ariel Querubin, began publicly denouncing the replacement of his commandant. That attracted media attention – as well as the flies who began hovering around Marine headquarters.
Out of nowhere, Sanlakas lawyers Argee Guevarra and JV Bautista emerged, announcing themselves "volunteer lawyers" for the hopping mad colonel. The two leftists then began trailing Querubin around the camp, forming a funny human chain around him, sticking their faces into camera range to make sure history will record their heroism, and probably convincing the colonel, during a moment of temporary insanity, that he was more important than he actually was.
Soon enough, the angry colonel piped down. His ruffled wife later admitted they did not know the two leftist lawyers, Guevarra and Bautista.
While he was hopping mad, encircled by the Sanlakas lawyers, Querubin (who had a rebellious history as co-founder of the Young officers Union) admitted to being part of the plan for soldiers to make an appearance before the mammoth anti-government rally planned for last Friday (and dispersed by the timely proclamation of a state of emergency). That seems to be a career-ending admission.
It was an admission that raises so many questions.
Why was Cory Aquino aligned with the very same officers who mounted bloody coup attempts against her presidency – coup attempts that led her down the same path of proclaiming a state of emergency?
Why was her son, Noynoy, who was nearly killed during the 1989 coup attempt, now supporting the exact same sort of military adventurism?
Why was Imee Marcos now allied with the same forces that overthrew her late father and terminated a hated dictatorship?
Why were the leftist groups, in effect, supporting the projected establishment of a military junta that would, in all possibility, shoot them down more readily than the democratically accountable government we now have in place?
Why are the members of the so-called Hyatt 10, instigators of what is so ingloriously called Edsa Dos, now aligned with the generally rented pro-Estrada mob?
I have difficulty answering all such queries posed by foreign observers. My standard reply consists of only two words: despair and opportunism.
Sunday’s farce unraveled as soon as it began – but not evidently enough for the worn-out political personages gathered at Fort Bonifacio to avert making fools of themselves.
In the end, the only question left badgering the public mind was: What was that all about?
I have a flood of e-mails from friends abroad who are reacting to the unavoidably over-dramatized television footages from Manila. They, by and large, pose that same question in a more painful way: As the world rushes aid to the victims of the Leyte landslide, why are the political players of Manila more engrossed with power grabs?
For years, foreigners have suspected Filipinos of being congenitally doomed to shoot ourselves on the foot at the first sign of impending success over adversity.
Since the start of the year, the peso has strengthened dramatically. The economy is beginning to roar. Large-scale investments are being negotiated.
Our prospects appear too bright for the forces of despair to handle. They must plot coups and invite the proclamation of a state of emergency. They must raise a ruckus in the streets to scare away tourism and investments.
By making fools of themselves, obsessed with their own inexplicable hatred for a sitting president, they succeed only in making all of us look like a nation of fools. They succeed only in diminishing the possibility that misery could be reduced and prosperity guaranteed within the foreseeable future.
To this steady stream of disturbing questions posed by the flood of e-mails I get, I can only answer with one word emphatically repeated thrice: Shame, shame, shame!