RACHEL A.G. REYES
RACHEL A.G. REYES

HOW was it possible that last Friday’s burial of Ferdinand Marcos caught the country flat-footed? We now know that at around 8.46 a.m., the dictator’s remains were flown from Ilocos to Manila by Army helicopter. There was a grandhearse. Relatives and guests arrived in a fleet of big cars. The Marcos family was impeccably dressed: Imelda wore a beautiful black terno whose silken folds fluttered elegantly in the breeze. Imee was in immaculate white, and her brother chose a barong his father would have favored. The coffin, draped in the nation’s flag, was carried with great ceremonyby military pallbearers and honored with a 21- gun salute. Soldiers in full military regalia dutifully saluted. Priests, just as dutifully, prayed and officiated. There were wreaths and bouquets, one said to be from the President. The ceremony began promptly at noon, as tradition dictated, and ended an hour later. Rows and rows of soldiers and police stood guarding the cemetery’s perimeter and entrances. Clearly,the event wasplanned and executed with the sort of precision and meticulous coordination that seems so uncharacteristic of us Filipinos. Moreover, somehow, remarkably, itwas all accomplished with absolute secrecy. Not a shred of information was leaked. Not a single journalist was alerted. Not a single pesky protester was there to ruin the moment and the photos. The Marcoses even controlled the visuals, selecting only a few images of the event for public consumption. The President was conveniently out of the country. His office claimed ignorance. “We honestly don’t know,” said the doe-eyed spokesperson who stood before an aghast press corps. What an impressive and extraordinary feat.

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