A matter of historical justice

During the campaign for what would turn out to be the first of two (legitimate) terms of Ferdinand Marcos as president of the Philippines, Imelda Marcos might well have been a rock star.

Ordinary folk lined highways and town roads just to get a glimpse of the “Iron Butterfly,” a moniker she earned because of the “butterfly sleeves” of her iconic terno outfits, and because she truly was, it seemed, made of iron, especially as her husband’s grip on power became ever more total and absolute.

The iron in the former first lady’s aura has been tarnished somewhat. Not just because she is now all of 89 years old, but also because the air of invincibility and impunity that surrounded her and her family all these decades past has been dissipated with her conviction on seven cases of graft. She also faces impending arrest, with the prospect of making a latter-day “walk of shame” to the nearest prison not too far-fetched.

But “impending” is indeed the operative word with regard to the arrest of Imelda Marcos. The Sandiganbayan, after finding her guilty and even ordering the issuance of an arrest warrant against her, has backtracked, postponing the issuance of the warrant purportedly to give her and her lawyer time to “avail of remedies” even after her conviction. This despite the fact that the case(s) against Imelda had been languishing in the legal system for all of 26 years, and that neither she nor her lawyer were even present at the sentencing.

Meantime, many of her supporters have rushed to her side. House Minority Leader Rep. Danilo Suarez has appealed to the public not to “make a big issue” of Imelda’s conviction and possible arrest “considering that she is 88 [sic] years old.” Philippine National Police chief Oscar Albayalde likewise said Imelda’s age and health “[have] to be taken into consideration,” prompting widespread public scorn at the unabashed double standards.

Well, Imelda may very well be old, but she is far from decrepit. On the evening of the same day she was found guilty of graft, she showed up hale and hearty to celebrate her daughter Imee’s birthday. (But, true to form, in her motion defending her absence at the Sandiganbayan sentencing, she said she was “indisposed” and “suffering from multiple organ infirmities.”) If the woman is still capable of partying—and of running for governor of Ilocos Norte after serving as a congresswoman—Imelda could very well withstand the rigors of jail. In fact, given the special treatment she has enjoyed in all her years of power, the possibility of her staying in VIP quarters isn’t all that remote.

Contrast the kid-glove treatment of Imelda with the way state agencies have dealt with individuals suspected of links with subversive organizations. Vic Ladlad, for instance, a consultant of the National Democratic Front of the Philippines in the suspended peace talks between the government and the communists, was recently arrested with little ceremony or care for his health, despite his many health issues and his need for constant monitoring and medication.

A meme even made fun of the number of firearms and explosives that were allegedly found on Ladlad’s person at the time of his arrest. Indeed, the image of an ailing Ladlad burdened with powerful firearms, grenades and other devices was funny, ironic and insulting. Is that how low the military thinks of the Filipino public’s intellect?

Shortly after news of Imelda’s conviction, many rejoiced at the prospect of finally finding justice after decades of Marcos misrule and even more decades of Marcos impunity and revisionism. But the glee was tempered somewhat by the realization that the “pusong mamon” or soft-heartedness of the average Filipino would sooner or later come into play, given the former first lady’s age and her former stature.

But it is precisely that stature, forged from an earnest image-building effort and the relentless support and sycophancy of many political figures today, that makes her arrest a matter of urgency and justice.

Think of the learning opportunity that the jailing of Imelda would provide for the Filipino youth of today. It will teach them that no one is so above the law as to escape punishment, no matter how long the wheels of justice grind ever so slowly. Seeing the Iron Butterfly behind iron bars would be an object lesson on historical justice and personal karma.