Special
Report: Imee Marcos
The Leader, September 2002 Vol. 1 No. 3
by: Tati V. Cruz
Imee
Marcos is always an interesting subject for an interview on anything and
everything under the sun.
The former First Daughter is also a lensman's delight. She knows exactly what she wants to say or how she wants to be photographed. No coaching needed.
But it wasn't easy to set a schedule with the extremely busy mother, legislator, artist and, very recently, a researcher on martial law who has been in a high profile mode lately.
We caught Imee at her favorite hangout in Greenhills, the Lolo Mao restaurant. It was past suppertime and she was hungry and dead-tired from legislative work. But the lady, now on her second term as congresswoman for Ilocos Norte's second district, graciously obliges THE LEADER for this late night interview interspersed with giggles and mild laughter.
Our main topic was martial law.
For Ferdinand Edralin Marcos' eldest daughter, martial law was "like (in) another lifetime." It surprises one to hear her say that imposing martial law now sounds "scary, frightening, dangerous." This despite her own analysis that the problems we face today are the same problems we had 30 years ago.
Persistent questions from a generation of students who were born after martial law prompted Imee to work on a Marcos Website. She has since been devoting a great deal of time collecting Marcos memorabilia - from photographs, writings, presidential decrees - about her controversial father.
"It will be an archive that students and academics can use, not to form any kind of opinion, but more importantly, so that we can read the primary materials of that period and make our own judgment with a 30-year hindsight." Imee explains.
The project is almost done. Imee says she has interviewed all the military generals who worked under martial law. She found it interesting that not one of the generals admitted receiving the much talked about gold Rolex wrist watches that Marcos supposedly gave them as gifts.
"Nobody seems to remember where that came from. I think it was an enterprising American writer who invented that little myth," an amused Imee says, garnishing her answers in gay lingo.
Imee believes it is about time to think about the lessons we can draw from experience under martial rule.
"I think it's been a long time and it's been long overdue, confronting our past. I don't mean it in a personal way because we have to deal with it as a family, this inherited reality of martial law and my father's history. But I think more importantly as a country, we should be more prepared to look it in the eye and learn from the lessons of history, good and bad. I think we are still in denial that it ever existed," she said.
Imee, her brother Ferdinand Jr. (Bongbong) and sister, Irene had been studying in England before Marcos signed Proclamation No. 1081 on September 21, 1972. They stayed there for a few years until they finished their studies. But they came home for Christmas and summer holidays.
"My father told us he was going to make some serious announcement," recalling the events prior to the declaration. "I think it was very clear to him that it was a tremendous risk. He was never sure if it was going to work or it wasn't, whether he was going to come out of it alive or not. I think it was going to be the gamble of his life," says Imee.
Several years later, people told her that her father knew exactly what he was doing then, and that he had all those big plans. "I think he had many, many plans. But above all, he knew this was going to be tremendously risky. So, what he did, he talked to us kid and said: 'You know, I'm going to have to do this thing…' Obviously, we were very young so didn't have a real comprehension of what he was talking about," she says.
"Basically, he said he'd have to make changes in the government, that they were going to be more fundamental and possibly, extremely controversial that he wasn't sure what was going to happen so. it would be best that we were sent away because he thought he'd prepare for it as best he could," Imee recalls.
Imee was just about to turn 17 years old at that time. Bongbong was sent ahead of Imee and Irene to England to continue their studies.
Before they left Manila, the Marcos children were already being tutored at the Palace. They found it difficult to go out because of protest rallies outside Malacañang. "Naging medyo magulo dahil maraming street actions. We were tutored at home. It was like the most boring thing that ever happened. It was so dull, di ba? Wala akong kaklase! Tapos araw-araw kailangan mong mag-aral kasi busted pag hindi nabasa, which I hated so much," Imee sighs.
In England, they had to live by themselves. "We were much concerned about adopting to a new and very cold environment. I was clueless. I wasn't aware of what was going on because we were struggling to cope in England without our parents, so it wasn't very real to us that things actually changed in the Philippines in an important way," she candidly recalls.
After three months, the Marcos children came back for Christmas holidays. The only difference was their friends would rush home before midnight. Being teenagers then, the curfew was the only physical manifestation of martial law to them.
She went to the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus in Mayfield, Sussex, where she was among the top students. Imee also earned plus points in acting classes at the Royal Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts in London, and in acting and playwriting at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts. She completed her secondary education at Sta. Catalina Convent in Monterey, California where she graduated as class valedictorian.
She went on Princeton University in New Jersey, with religion and politics as independent majors, graduating with honors.
Imee became the most visible among the three Marcos children when she returned. She was chairperson of the Kabataang Barangay, the forerunner of today's Sangguniang Kabataan. That was her initial involvement in politics.
Understandably, she gets emotional as she opposes moves in Congress to abolish SK, from where she says, young people are supposed to get their first lessons in leadership and governance.
Back in Manila, Imee took up law at the University of the Philippines where she was university scholar for four years, graduating cum laude.
Pursuing her interest in the arts and theatre, Imee was instrumental in setting up the Experimental Cinema of the Philippines in the early 80s, and she was actively involved in it even after she was elected assemblywoman for Ilocos Norte's second district from 1983 until the Batasan Pambansa was abolished in 1986.
She also enrolled at the Asian Institute of Management for a one-year masteral course on management and business administration.
Wanting to learn more, she went back to Princeton University and later to UP for graduate studies in anthropology, sociology, literature, arts, history and theatre.
THE EXILE YEARS
The Marcos family hurriedly left Malacañang after a four-day "people power" revolt at EDSA. The ousted President and the First Lady were sent to Honolulu, Hawaii. Bongbong and Irene with husband Greggy Araneta, stayed in another state while Imee, then married the sportsman Tommy Manotoc hied off to Europe anf Africa. Her eldest son, Borgy, was only 2 ½ years old at that time.
On a trip to the US once, Imee was threatened with arrest upon arrival based on human rights suit filed by a Filipino there. She did not see her father when he fell ill until he died in September 1989.
"We were so beleaguered. My primary consideration was to keep my family in one piece. We had a very, very hard time. They had everyone chasing us," Imee says of her life, after 1986 revolt.
She thought that exile would allow them to travel freely as much as they could, that the government that time would be perfectly happy to keep them away. On the contrary, their movements were restricted. Their passports were cancelled. It was a hassle wherever they went. She felt they were being tailed everywhere they went.
She cites instances when her children were included as respondents in a case filed against her house. Arrest warrants were issued one after another. "It was really though. We didn't have identity papers. We basically became refugees." Their pictures were posted at the borders so they could not just slip out of one country to another. "It was quite strange. I didn't quite understand what they were trying to do," she says.
Because they were constantly harassed, Imee says they wanted to return home and face the music here. But they were not allowed to do so until years later.
While in exile, she managed to study again at the Royal University of Rabat in Morocco where she enrolled in French and Dialectical Arabic Language studies. Today, Imee can speak Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Mandarin, basic Japanese and Arabic, apart from English, Filipino, Waray and basic Ilocano.
After almost six years, in December 1991, Imee and Irene were given travel documents in Malaysia. They returned to the Philippines to be reunited with her family, for the formal burial of their father. But Marcos was already in a refrigerated crypt then.
Because of the brownouts that time, and for the fear that her three boys would unduly suffer in school defending their name, Imee packed up again and settled in Singapore.
"I was worried because they were little boys, and with this unrelenting diatribes, abuse, invectives on television, the press, I was afraid they would have terrible fights in school. So I said maybe they should just leave and when they get a little older, maybe I'll have a better chance of explaining what happened."
At that time, Borgy was about eight years old, Michael was five and Matthew was two. Borgy is now a ramp and commercial model and the two younger boys have competed in golf tournaments abroad.
"You always assume when you leave that expatriation and exile are the most difficult things in the world and that repatriation was going to be happy and perfect. Of course it would be a reunion and you're going home. Little did you know thatrepatriationwas going to be even more painful. Everything was just so dreadful."
In Singapore, she enrolled again at the National University of Singapore College of Extramural Studies where she took up courses in writing (screenplay and children's literature), painting and art, and interior design. They stayed in Singapore from January 1992 until she decided to come back in March 1998, a few weeks before she was elected to Congress.
The children are now enrolled at the International School after trying out at the Ateneo. Imee says she and the boys are happier about the transfer because at IS, they are just ordinary students, far removed from the inquisitive stares and biases.
Curious about their grandfather's role in the country's history, they constantly ask questions about what really transpired during those turbulent times. "We have very vigorous discussions at home. They ask a lot of questions, particularly my second son," she says.
This curiosity prodded Imee and the Marcos Presidential Center to collate memorabilia, writings and decrees of the man often referred to as authoritarian, a strongman, and a dictator.
ASSESSING MARTIAL LAW
Imee frankly admits her late father made mistakes, too.
"There are many things wrong about martial law. There were things that did not work well," she concedes. Imee says martial rule was "a 20-year experiment" from which we can draw valuable lessons to avoid making the same mistakes.
"There were many, many things that were tried then and could still work now; many mistakes that were made then that are repeated all over. We simply have to stop these. Those who don't learn from history are condemned to repeat its mistakes, didn't someone say?" she says.
Sounding like her father, Imee exclaims: "I really want this nation to be great again. I really want to see the end of the oligarchy and the establishment of the new society, whatever that means."
Imee says it was unfortunate that from 1986, it seems that everything identified with Marcos was shunned. "I'm not saying we want to repeat all the kapalpalkan, all the kamalian. But it's interesting that people talk about martial law again and acceptability of its re-imposition. I think that's a little scary, though," Imee says.
The Marcos-style strongman rule, she says, seems to be more acceptable to the post-war generation who, following the destruction and butchery of the war, entrusted their fate in the hands of one man.
Imee believes the concept of leadership has drastically changed over the last couple of years. The demand today, she says, is for a transparent, consultative approach of governance, fueled by the media and technological innovations.
Thirty years since the entire archipelago was placed under martial rule, the Philippines is still beset with the same problems of poverty, insurgency, graft and corruption, peace and order disturbances. Terrorist threats on one hand and high prices on the other compound this.
The problems we had thirty years ago are still basically the same problems we have today. But Imee believes that imposing martial law as a solution to these problems is a chilling prospect.
She admits she has passed the stage of trying to justify or vindicate the Marcos name.
"I just want to see a less poor country. I mean, there is still the dream of peace and unity, right? And all these motherhood and apple pie stuff. I really, really want to see the vision thing," she says.
Her frustration that things don't get done in years after becomes contagious. "When you're in Congress you keep hearing so many things. The more you know, the worse you feel," she says.
Imee says she's fed up, for instance, from too much politicking over the rice problem. "What's the policy on rice? I mean, there are four Cabinet secretaries in charge of agriculture here. Why does everyone keep messing around with rice? I just don't get it," an exasperated Imee says.
"My dad wasn't right about everything, but I do recall that he said: 'ang bigas, ang palay, hindi pinupulitika. You just have to do what you have to do because it's just too important.
"I think not everything my father did was good, but not everything was bad either. It's important that we learn from the good part because, I think, many issues that consumed him are still the issues of the day," Imee points out.
Describing herself as a reluctant politician, she says she's looking forward to 2004 when she can devote more time to writing books and, probably, going back to theatre. She claims she does not dream of perpetuating the Marcos legacy in politics.
For now, she involves herself in legislative work, particularly in drafting of a law that defines and penalizes terrorism, an age-old problem whose existence gained global recognition only after the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on strategic facilities of the United States.
The Philippines had its own 9-11 attack. It happened 30 years ago. Perhaps, Imee was right. It was like in another lifetime.