Another Thrilla In Manila

The moment of truth for Joseph Estrada came abruptly at 1 p.m last Friday, when Armed Forces Chief of Staff General Angelo Reyes and Defense Secretary Orlando Mercado informed him that the military was withdrawing its support from him. Concerned that Estrada had not fully understood the finality of the call, Reyes asked his deputy, General Jose Calimlim, to follow up the phone call with a personal visit. Calimlim, a trusted former aide-de-camp to Estrada, was a person who could perhaps coax him through pakikisama (camaraderie), the gentle pressure of "a friend, not an enemy."

When Calimlim arrived at Malacanang Palace, the President was in his office with several advisers, speaking on the phone. In a fit of anger following the call, he ordered everyone out of the office so that he could talk privately with Calimlim. "You too?" the President then said. "Everybody has forsaken me." It was clear that he had been drinking, and Calimlim observed that he was "despondent," saying at one point, "You know what I'll do? I'll just wait for one soldier to come in and kill me." Calimlim later remarked that "it was as if the whole world had collapsed on him without his knowing what hit him."

Following a series of events that were almost as fantastical as the original revolution that toppled Ferdinand Marcos in 1986, the Philippines was poised to make its fourth transition of power. By Saturday, Estrada, fighting a corruption scandal and a rancorous Senate impeachment trial, had resigned. He appeared to have the votes to survive the Senate action, but the Philippine people had seen enough. They took to the streets peacefully last week, and by week's end Estrada's 2 1/2-year rule was finished and his archrival, Vice President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, was sworn in.

The country faces immense challenges. Even before charges were filed against Estrada, sending the peso into a death spiral, economic growth had stalled while debt had soared to record levels, throwing new IMF relief into doubt. Graft and corruption remain endemic in the Philippines, and they were focal points in Estrada's trial. Century-old demands by Muslim secessionists for an independent Mindanao had quieted at the end of the previous presidency, Fidel Ramos', but flared anew under the erratic management of the Estrada administration. But that is not all.

By the time Estrada left office, reportedly headed for exile in Australia, the country was suffering its worst crisis of confidence since the Marcos years, with its banks, stock market, regulatory agencies and legislature all tainted by the revelations disclosed during the impeachment trial. Two days before Estrada was forced to resign, his newly appointed Executive Secretary, Edgardo Angara, a respected former Cabinet Secretary, voiced hope that the crisis atmosphere would "help push through those structural reforms that in normal times are so difficult to do, so that we can prove those people wrong who say democracy can never work in the Philippines."

This revolution has become known in the Philippines as People Power Two, a reference to the original people's movement that ousted Marcos. This time, however, cell-phone text messages were the preferred organizing medium as protesters used cybertech to figure out where to be and when. People Power One brought hope and a brief glimpse of prosperity to the country. For this one to do the same, Macapagal-Arroyo will need to move quickly to develop a plan for economic and legal revitalization. The new 53-year-old President has a Ph.D. in economics (she was a schoolmate of Bill Clinton's at Georgetown) and has worked hard to attract new investors. She was already a popular political figure, regularly outpolling Estrada in approval ratings even during his best moments in power. And like George W. Bush, who was sworn in just hours after her, she is the child of a former President: Diosdado Macapagal, who ruled the country from 1962 to 1965. In the past year, however, the Philippine elite has cooled a bit to her, worried that her popularity will not make her immune to the same issues of corruption and mismanagement that dogged Estrada. After all, Estrada, an actor, was once the most popular man in the country.

This transition wasn't totally unexpected. For the past year, Macapagal-Arroyo has been quietly gathering a team of people and a collection of ideas for what to do if she took over the country. The new President said she accepted her job with "a sense of trepidation and a sense of awe." For her country's sake, one hopes she also has a sense of urgency.