A generation apart, Cory and Ninoy funerals stir up memories

What a difference a generation makes, and the changes were all too evident to those of us who witnessed the contrast in the funerals of former president Corazon Aquino on Wednesday and that of her husband, opposition leader Benigno Aquino Jr., 26 years ago.

Former President Corazon Aquino's funeral procession.

Many of the scenes are the same: thick crowds patiently standing in line along Manila’s major thoroughfares, the yellow ribbons and Laban signs, the flatbed truck. But there were also a lot of stark differences. In 1983, many of the mourners came from militant groups protesting human rights abuses who marched all the way from Santo Domingo church to the Manila Memorial Park, chanting slogans and carrying red and yellow banners. In 2009, they seem to have been replaced by the manicured set, many of them riding air-conditioned buses with toilets and television sets, the better to monitor the live coverage of the eight-hour journey from the Manila Cathedral to the cemetery. Obviously, it is not easy to draw parallels between the two funerals. After all, Ninoy was an opposition leader who was assassinated at a time when strongman Ferdinand Marcos held sway in the country. Cory is a former president who died after a long battle with colon cancer. The timing of Cory’s death, however, is also significant. It comes at a time when there is widespread concern about President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s support for a change in the Constitution that could extend her term, a throwback to the lengthy dictatorial rule of Marcos. Campus press Back in 1983, I was a student journalist writing for the University of the Philippines’ campus newspaper, the Philippine Collegian. Our news team of about a dozen reporters was divided into groups of two -- our buddy system whenever we had to cover rallies and other protest actions -- and sent out with battered notebooks in hand. Although Martial Law had been officially lifted in 1981, fear of warrant-less arrests made many groups that dared to expose anomalies in the Marcos administration cautious. We had to take extra care as our newspaper was part of the so-called “alternative press," a very small group of independent media that defied curbs on press freedom. Young and a little reckless, we clambered up trucks to get a better view of Ninoy’s funeral cortege as it crawled its way from Santo Domingo church to the memorial park. For the most part, we walked with the marchers, a feat that may seem monumental now although at that time, it just seemed like something that was fun to do. The marchers grew in number every time we passed congested areas in the metropolis. It is estimated that as much as two million joined or watched the funeral back then, a huge outpouring of support for Ninoy and outright display of anti-Marcos sentiment. Social divide This time around, our team of eight field staff had two vans at our disposal to cover the well-organized funeral cortege of Cory. We filed stories from laptops with broadband connections, and when the battery ran out, from our mobile phones. Out in the streets, advances in technology allowed people from both sides of the social divide to capture the moment for posterity. As Cory’s casket came into view, flash bulbs sparkled from various directions as thousands of people scrambled to get clear pictures under an overcast sky. After the flatbed truck passed, however, most people left the procession route and did not even bother to watch the rest of the funeral cortege. Those who stayed peered into the vehicles to catch a glimpse of the celebrities that joined the funeral. Some groups used the occasion to denounce the Arroyo administration. A banner of the militant organization Bukluran ng Manggagawang Pilipino and Sanlakas read: "Paalam Cory. Tuloy ang laban para sa demokrasya ng bayan. Patalsikin si Gloria!" But they were few and far between. For most of the mourners, a simple “Thank you, Cory" sufficed to express their gratitude to a woman who led the nation back to democracy. Others remembered the contributions of Ninoy, and the now classic line “Hindi ka nag-iisa" echoed throughout the entire procession in banners and T-shirts. A poster at the back of one vehicle said it all: "Never forget ... what Ninoy died for, what Cory lived for." As the slow-moving convoy neared the memorial park, Manila’s populace seemed to have converged in narrow exits to squeeze in the vehicles that joined the cortege. They called to mind the huddled supporters in umbrellas kept out by metal barricades while masses were held for Cory at the cathedral during the wake. Inside the memorial park, the faint outlines of the full moon emerged in the cloudy sky as Cory was laid to rest beside her husband, but no one seemed to notice. Everyone was looking at a video screen showing the interment rites at the family mausoleum just a few meters away, which was cordoned off. After the funeral, some of the younger reporters turned their thoughts to Facebook and iPods. Back in 1983, our team of student reporters only had reaction papers and mid-term exams in mind. – GMANews.TV