Getting Out The Vote.(Philippines)(Brief Article)

When Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo swept into power on a wave of popular protest in January, elites in Manila and Washington breathed a sigh of relief. Here was a sober-minded leader--an economics professor, no less--who would restore stability to a country rocked by the corruption scandals of her predecessor, Joseph Estrada. So what was Arroyo doing on May 1, the 100th day of her tenure, hunkering down in Malacanang Palace in a bulletproof vest? Engaging in what has become a disturbingly frequent habit for presidents of the Philippines: she was directing troops to repel a swarm of protesters at the palace's wrought-iron gates.

These weren't the khaki-wearing middle-class protesters who had brought down Ferdinand Marcos in 1986 and Estrada earlier this year. They were the masses from Manila's fetid slums, who represent a far greater swath of Philippine society. In their plastic sandals and ragged clothing, they denounced Estrada's arrest and demanded his return to power. On May Day, at the urging of opposition leaders, the throngs marched on Malacanang, destroying barricades, setting vehicles on fire and clashing violently with security forces. Three people were killed and more than 130 injured.

May Day is also a distress call, and the worst riots in the capital in 15 years underscored how much help the Philippines still needs. The country has a democratic tradition that's half a century old, but in recent years that tradition has been revived (after Marcos) and rejuvenated (after Estrada) with what amounts to mob action. The danger is that with a political scene dominated by charismatic personalities rather than institutions, such extraconstitutional methods begin to seem an appropriate means of effecting political change. The mass demonstration is quickly becoming the hallmark of Philippine democracy. That does not bode well for the nation's faltering economy. With Estrada's trial not set to begin until June 27, there will be plenty more opportunities for his supporters to take to the streets. "The more disturbances, the longer our wait-and-see period," says Lorenzo Lichuaco, chief representative of HSBC Securities. Arroyo knows she must quell such fears as quickly as possible if the country is to attract foreign investment. In a hastily arranged meeting last week, Vice President Teofisto Guingona reassured foreign diplomats that the "state of rebellion," set to be lifted May 7, would not affect them. "The courts are open, traffic is flowing, the cocktails continue," said Guingona. "No one needs to be alarmed."

Arroyo, at least, should be worried about the intensity of Estrada's support among the poor. Estrada, after all, is accused of pocketing $82 million in kickbacks and bribes, much of it stemming from the illegal- gambling operations that soak the poor. (It would take the average Philippine slum dweller more than 356,000 years to earn that much.) The former B-movie actor now has the distinction of being the first Asian head of state to be impeached and the first Philippine president to be sent to prison. But the poor still love him, just as they adored the bumbling tough guys he played on screen who always had a soft spot for the needy. As one domestic helper at last week's protests said: "People Power II was for the rich. This is for us."

That support is carving a dangerously wide divide between the haves and have-nots. During last week's ...