Arillo . . .

Marcos was: if in war he had risked his life for his country, it would make no sense this time to risk his country for his life. Patriotism is not a transient act, but a commitment for a lifetime. He steeled himself: when history makes a ponderous turn, it seldom does so neatly.

In that moment, Ferdinand E. Marcos was no longer just Malakas

(strong); he also became Maganda

(beautiful). He became a mother,

protective of her children, including those who were foolishly misbehaving.

Marcos felt that if he was to yield power, it should be done honorably. If his enemies deny him a graceful exit, they should, following the code

of chivalry among warriors, allow him at least an honorable one. By the ancient code, the victors should be magnanimous. Cory Aquino had dangled the lure of magnanimity. After taking her ambiguous oath of office later that day, Cory Aquino would affirm: “I would like to repeat that I am very magnanimous in victory.”

But he knew she had been fickle, and could be again—how many times did she assure Doy Laurel that she was not going to run for president even if nominated? Furthermore, was she in control of the forces seeking his ouster, or would it be better to discuss the terms of his exit with the mutiny’s leader, Minister Enrile?

He went for Enrile, whom he knew better, and who, as a fellow lawyer, could more competently discuss the legal implications of his proposals than Cory can. There

were several possibilities. Marcos could nullify the results of the snap elections, call for new elections in which he would not be a candidate, and complete his current term, up to noon of June 30, 1987, when he shall turn over the government to the new president-elect.

Or he could share power in a coalition government. Or he could accept powerless but honorific roles—as figurehead or adviser—in a transition government where the actual power would be in Enrile’s hands. Any of these would be legal, and would avert a constitutional crisis by doing away with the need for a revolutionary government.

But by early morning of February 25, it was too late to bargain. Enrile had already publicly committed himself to accept election loser Cory Aquino as president who was

scheduled to take her oath of office that morning.

Denied any role in a coalition or transition government, Marcos had no choice but to proceed with his own oath taking, although he knew that it would not keep him in power. The oath he took had become familiar, for it was his fourth time to recite it. yet it was the most meaningful, if most somber, of his oath takings.

The situation added a tragic dimension as he intoned the closing portion of the prescribed oath: … and consecrate myself to the service of the nation.

In the context of history, that consecration meant sacrificing himself, for a divided nation, that it may be one again.