The inimitable June Keithley will be buried today, five days after succumbing to cancer at 66. An awardee of the Philippine Legion of Honor, rank of commander, she fully deserves the military honors that will help mark today’s rites. These are fitting for another reason, however: They help recall Keithley’s extraordinary role in the People Power revolution of 1986.
Known as an accomplished stage actress, one of the most famous of “Reuter’s babies”—the students who played roles in the theater productions directed by the late Jesuit, Fr. James Reuter—Keithley was in fact a compleat entertainer. She acted in a Lino Brocka movie; she played a comedienne on TV.
But not many entertainers are led by their talent onto the largest stage conceivable: history itself. For an unforgettable four days in February 1986, Keithley became the voice of a people’s uprising, a peaceful revolution that inspired other opposition movements and stunned the world.
After forces loyal to the dictator Ferdinand Marcos interrupted a post-snap election coup attempt, and Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and his reformist soldiers decided to make a last stand in Camp Aguinaldo with Lt. Gen. Fidel Ramos, leading supporters of presidential candidate Corazon Aquino stepped into the breach.
Keithley was one of those who heeded Jaime Cardinal Sin’s appeal to defend the beleaguered anti-Marcos group. Instead of heading for the military headquarters, or joining the growing crowd on Edsa, she went where her gifts—her charism, to use a particularly resonant theological term—led her: to Radio Veritas, the Catholic Church’s lead radio station.
In a very fluid situation, with potentially grave consequences for unarmed civilians caught between heavily equipped and highly trained military factions, Reuter, a communications expert, realized it was vital to have a central source of information, a focus of coordination. He called on his protégé to serve as that focus, that source.
In Veritas, Keithley worked with other anchors; they gave continuous updates, they issued appeals and cautions; not least, they found the perfect soundtrack for a revolution-in-the-making: “Mambo Magsaysay,” the upbeat campaign jingle of the late president Ramon Magsaysay from three decades before.
This was a crucial find. When the Veritas transmission tower was bombed by Marcos forces, the central source fell silent. Reuter eventually found an unused radio station (much nearer to Malacañang Palace than the Radio Veritas station was, and therefore more at risk), and asked Keithley to anchor the broadcast. In “Edsa 20,” the Inquirer television documentary, Keithley recounted her exchange with Reuter: how he asked her, how she could not say no, how he made a joke about the possibility of being discovered by Marcos forces and being killed in the process.
When “Radyo Bandido” went on the air, it was Keithley’s voice, and especially her repeated playing of “Mambo Magsaysay,” that convinced people that the new, unknown station was legitimate, the real voice of the revolution. For several hours, it was just Keithley and a couple of intrepid students who staffed the station; in time, a long line of nuns and civilians arrived in the station to serve as Keithley’s bodyguard.
Angela Stuart Santiago recorded Ramos’ grateful account of Keithley’s role: “We needed to reinforce our military forces. This is why our call to the people to come and support us was very constant. And we were able to do this through June Keithley and the radio broadcasting crews of Radio Veritas who were on the job, calling on the people, transmitting for us even messages which were tactical in nature. This was the first time in military history, anywhere in the world, when private broadcast media, run by concerned citizens, were used to transmit or relay military orders or directives to military units in the field.” This extraordinary work continued and culminated with the Radyo Bandido guerilla operation. Ramos famously called Keithley “the field marshal of the Edsa revolution.”
But it was not just military forces defecting from the Marcos military who heeded Keithley. By the second day, the character of the revolution-in-the-making had changed dramatically. It was no longer a military project; instead, it had become People Power.
The hero we bury today was the voice that helped call that power forth.