A MILLION MOURNERS

Close to 800,000 to a million people joined what would later be called the “people’s march,” but that story was downplayed in the mainstream media. So, too, were those on the tens of thousands who lined up the streets when Ninoy’s remains were later brought to his hometown in Concepcion, Tarlac, the mourners shouting, clapping their hands, and waving yellow ribbons as they watched the caravan of some 300 cars. 

Instead, most of the crony papers like the Journal focused on the five-man commission of jurists that Marcos had formed to investigate the assassination, and the president’s offer of a P500,000 reward for the arrest of the perpetrators of the crime.

Subsequent main stories included those on the alleged plans of subversives to attack military and police installations, as well as on the report of Maj. Gen. Olivas — which no less than Marcos announced — confirming the identity of the alleged assailant, Rolando Galman y Dawang, 33, a native of Zaragoza, Nueva Ecija, but who later transferred residence to San Miguel, Bulacan.

The president said that he was prompted to make the announcement himself “because of speculations in media and other sectors of the country about Aquino’s killer.”

CRONY, 'MOSQUITO' PRESS

Marcos was apparently irritated that while his political operators had effectively gagged the mainstream media on the protests, the so-called “mosquito press” and the independent radio commentators were having a field day reporting the public perception that the strongman had a hand in the killing, if not being the “mastermind” himself.

It was not that we in the mainstream media were sitting on our hands. Just like other enterprising journalists who covered the wake, for instance, we got the reactions of the political opposition and prepared feature articles on how people from all walks of life were paying tribute to the slain opposition leader. But those stories never saw print.

The people saw through the stories in the crony press. They knew the reports about planned attacks by subversives were part of the Palace’s desperate efforts to sow fear, to dissuade angry mourners from attending spontaneous protest actions that were organized initially by leftist groups, but were attracting even members of the elite.

By then the “parachutists” — the foreign journalists based in Hong Kong and as far as the United States and Europe — had already descended on Manila, covering the spontaneous demonstrations. They reported to the rest of the world that the public outcry was no longer just justice for Ninoy Aquino, but also for the resignation of President Marcos and the restoration of democracy. For us in the local press, it hurt that people were now relying on the foreign media for news about our own country.

We also became targets of the public’s outrage. As my team and I prepared to return to Manila after covering the convoy to Tarlac, a group of young men blocked our service vehicle. The men began hitting our Land Cruiser, demanding that we report the “real news,” that we all get out of the vehicle. I told the driver and photographer Johnny Villena to just stay inside, while I did the “negotiating.” Luckily, the youths allowed us to leave after I asked them to give us as chance to do our work as newsmen. But as we drove away, we could hear them shout, “Sa totoo lang (Be on the side of truth)!”

If only we could. On the eve of Ninoy’s burial, we confronted the desk about the local press being seen as villains and pawns of the powers-that-be. We wanted to believe the desk was sympathetic to our plight, but we knew our paper was getting instructions from the Palace and that the Presidential News Desk was screening all our articles and deciding which could come out the next day.

HISTORY TURNS A PAGE

When we heard that the funeral procession would be a protest march from the church to the Manila Memorial Park, we from the local press agreed to cover the event as a group, in part because we knew we had become unpopular with the people and may well be lynched by a furious mob. But no harm came upon us and we were proud to have been part of the millions upon millions of rain-drenched Filipinos who walked the entire 26-kilometer route to pay respect to Ninoy Aquino.

Malaya publisher-editor Jose Burgos estimated that more than seven million people escorted Ninoy, whose coffin was placed on an elevated platform on a 10-wheel truck bedecked with yellow chrysanthemums and sampaguitas, to his final resting place. The day after the funeral, Malaya carried a piece by Burgos in which he observed, “Unity, yes, the stricken sea of humanity which paid homage to Aquino was obviously capable of demonstrating but yesterday, it was a sense of unity that could no longer be suppressed but rather had to be poured out defiantly, albeit peacefully.”

Malaya columnist Antonio Ma. Nieva also wrote, “I know, as surely as I believe in fate, that history turned a page that day in a way that inexorably altered the lives of 42 million Filipinos. The day is huge and vast, and awesome in a very real sense, and I try to etch it in mind: The vast throng jammed, in some areas 50 abreast, along a 10-kilometer stretch at the heart of Manila, the sober faces, the unspoken grief.”

My paper mentioned the funeral as well, but only briefly. It was in the lead paragraph of a Page 1 story that was spread across three columns. The piece, with the headline “Lightning kills 1, injures 9 at Luneta,” began: “An overseas job applicant was killed and nine others were injured yesterday when a lightning bolt struck an acacia tree where people were perched to get a better view of the funeral cortege of former Sen. Benigno Aquino Jr.” It was accompanied by a photo — not of the funeral march, but of the victims of the freak accident.

It was a “scoop” by the Times Journal and its sister tabloid The People’s Journal. Nobody else bothered to report the incident.

The piece was a tragedy in itself. And after 25 years, all I can tell people is that I did not write it.