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Political mood in Manila is defiant but cautious

By Paul Quinn-JudgeSpecial to The Christian Science Monitor / November 2, 1983


Businessmen here like to joke that Makati, Manila's modern high-rise commercial district, has become a ''liberated zone'' - the base area for the middle-class revolt against the Marcos regime.

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Yellow streamers - the color taken to symbolize Benigno Aquino, the opposition leader murdered on arrival at Manila airport on Aug. 21 - hang permanently from the Makati stock exchange. A few buildings away, a large yellow banner - ''no reconciliation with dictatorship'' - is draped over the Philippines bank building. The bank is owned by the family of Salvador Laurel, the most prominent though most tepid of the opposition leaders.

But the focal point of the zone is just across the road - the 20-story headquarters of the Bank of the Philippines Islands (BPI).

The bank is part of the financial empire of the Zobel family, which created Makati and the surrounding luxurious walled villages with their armed guards.

Each Wednesday and Friday afternoon a number of rich villagers head for the BPI building to join in the noise barrage against the Marcos government.

On these days from 2 to 5 p.m., Ayala Avenue becomes choked with cars, all blaring their horns. Office workers shower confetti - shredded yellow pages, naturally - from their windows. The police keep out of the way these days after the unfortunate publicity that followed a tear-gas and baton attack on the demonstrators some weeks ago.

Enrique Zobel, chairman of BPI and a friend of both Marcos and Aquino, is said to watch these proceedings from his 19th-floor offices. Some businessmen would like to see him replace Marcos.

On nondemonstration days, newspaper vendors in the capital do a brisk trade in the scruffy tabloids that have popped up since the Aquino murder. All are virulently antiregime; one is funded by the Roman Catholic Church. Some vendors sell more of these than the established dailies, whose circulation has plummeted since the murder.

Vendors also sell Ninoy (Aquino's nickname) T-shirts and sun visors, or ''I Love Aquino'' bumper stickers. The stickers, with a red heart for the word love, now seem to outnumber the ''I Love New York'' stickers that inspired them.

This week a new T-shirt is on the market. The front reads ''Marcos Loves You.'' The back cautions ''joke only.'' A few months ago such blatant ridicule of the President would have been unimaginable. Today it is commonplace.

The regime's credibility seems to have disappeared here. The suspicions about the Aquino murder that surfaced immediately after the killing have become firm convictions. People - and some members of the press - joke openly about the alleged involvement of the Aviation Security Command in the killing. That unit had been assigned to protect Aquino.

And in the street the guilt of President Marcos, or at least that of his closest aides, seems to be taken for granted.

But at the same time the so-called middle-class revolt seems to be cooling, despite a prominent role in many public demonstrations by Corazon Aquino, widow of the slain leader. The protests have become part of the regular social calendar - noise barrages twice a week, then the Run on for Aquino and for Resignation (ROAR) on the weekend.

Every Sunday morning for the last month or so several thousand people in Aquino T-shirts have been jogging, hobbling, or limping a five-mile route along the harbor. At the end of the run they are met by their drivers, attend mass, or have brunch on the grass.