Her reputation as an accomplished political arm of Marcos during the campaign was well
deserved, and the President-elect conceded that she was responsible for a million votes, the margin that made him victor. It also established her as a political figure by an indirect mandate. Later
Imelda’s political role would be amplified by groups in the Marcos camp who would use her to further their own political fortunes.
This was the chink in the demure and aristocratic image of the sixth First Lady of the Philippines, and some people saw through it. She was his ally in the longest, dirtiest, and bloodiest Presidential campaign. She sat on that platform composed, beaming, with a sense of quiet triumph. Although it was Marcos who was being installed as the sixth President of the Philippines, the inauguration rites that morning were different from any other, because of Imelda. The delicate, innocent beauty hardly betrayed a character that had the subtle glint of fine steel. A foreign correspondence in an inspired moment called her “steel butterfly.” The label stuck and deepened the mystery of Imelda Marcos. What made her run? Why did she act so compellingly? She told friends it was for “the love of Ferdinand.” For him, she said, she would do anything, even climb a mountain. And for a long while the public believed her.
This public declaration of love enhanced the idyllic image of the Marcoses and heightened expectations of Filipinos yearning for forceful leadership. Indeed, in 1965 it had seemed they were blessed not just with one heroic leader but two, with the surprise bonus of a wife who shared the new President’s commitment to the country.
In October 1966, barely a few months from that morning’s inauguration rites, the Marcoses paid the customary state visit to America. As with past Philippine Presidents, the personal call to Washington was high on Marcos’s agenda. This was the occasion for horse trading, in which both countries reiterate the special relationship and proceed to iron out the details of quid pro quo in civilized, diplomatic parlance. The result of such bargaining, as in the past, only exposed the dependency of the Philippines. There was no reason to expect that Marcos would radically depart from the paths taken by his predecessors. Still, nationalists and more politically perceptive Filipinos hoped that Marcos, known for his brazen character, would put up some kind of stand for his country’s sake. They were to be disappointed.