Run to win, or stop running
Elections are typically part of the democratic process. As such, they often carry an air of free-for-all competition. In the Philippines, this usually means that almost anyone above a certain age can run, with little to no qualifications.
I cannot conceive that the framers of the American Constitution—on which our own Philippine constitutions have been based—ever intended elections in the Philippines to resemble what we have today. I can only assume they never saw the electoral process as a joke, yet there is no greater joke than what we see in the Philippines now.
Looking back at the history of the American rebellion against their colonial masters, they must have regarded the selection of their leaders with great importance and even greater gravity. After all, as people who had served kings, queens, and royalty for thousands of years, they would not have taken lightly what they must have seen as a rare blessing—the ability to choose their own leaders.
And so, in the Philippine replication of the American electoral process, both American and Filipino leaders must have assumed that the natives of the Philippines would have longed to shed the chains of choicelessness and blind obedience. But that assumption was flawed. Economic and political maturity, coupled with deep cultural differences, make the experience of democracy vastly different between Americans and Filipinos.
I am sure that anthropologists and other social scientists have much to say about the cultural contrasts between truly Eastern and truly Western societies. However, that is not the focus of this article. What is more relevant is the stark difference between American-style democracy and Filipino-style oligarchy. While the electoral processes outlined in both constitutions may be similar, applying them to an institutional democracy on one hand and a disguised oligarchy on the other creates a world of difference.
The Philippines is still struggling to fully transition from its datu system past and colonial
history, despite a sincere effort to develop into the Western democracy it has longed to be. The elite never truly wanted to stop ruling, just as the population never truly wanted to give up being ruled. Historically, governance by kings, queens, and royalty—especially in Western Europe—was far more rigid and demanding than the patriarchal and familial style of the native datu system.
In other words, the electoral process designed in our Constitution never had an environment conducive to its proper development. The West holds elections as an intense competition in a culture that is already naturally competitive. In the Philippines, elections are treated like a fiesta—there is competition, but within an atmosphere of festivity. This dynamic works well for those who thrive on patronage politics. They spend a little, entertain a lot, and get what they want. The voters, in turn, receive some perks and comic relief.
The cliché holds true: the rich and powerful become richer and more powerful, while the poor get entertained and go home with their loot bags.
Unfortunately, this cycle—though it has persisted for decades—is nearing its inevitable collapse. The patronage of rich and powerful politicians does not come from their own pockets. Greed ensures that the wealthy do not share their accumulated riches; instead, they siphon funds from the public treasury, spend a fraction during elections, and not only secure their positions of power but also grow even wealthier with each cycle.
There is only one natural conclusion to this: the public treasury will run dry. Public services will deteriorate and eventually disappear. The poor, who have been sustained by one form of subsidy or another, will suddenly realize they are on their own when government funds run out. Deep discontent will set in, and the rising tide of resentment can only lead to one inevitable outcome. Between now and that moment, the only buffer zone left is the government’s diminishing ability to borrow—until it can borrow no more.
Today, I must acknowledge that a growing number of Filipinos may not yet see the full scope of the nation’s unraveling, but they can feel it in their gut. They sense the impending disaster and know no other way to avert it except by introducing into government leadership political personalities with a deeper sense of patriotism, uncompromising integrity, and greater competence. This intensifying concern must be paired with a clearer understanding of the
situation at hand. I believe the fear and urgency felt by many is enough to spark something extraordinary—but others must share this conviction.
As things stand, no good candidates will make it to the “Magic 12” on their own. It will take a mini–People Power, guided by a unified vision, to push even three or four good leaders into the winning circle. That also means those with no real chance should stop running and instead rally behind the viable ones. The more good candidates split the vote, the less likely any of them will make it. This is not a normal election—it is a direct battle. We either beat them, or they beat us. But if we fail to strategize, we will only defeat ourselves.
Run—but make sure you win. Otherwise, step aside and help someone better win. Do not run just for the sake of running, only to ensure that every other good candidate loses. Will our political hopefuls find the courage to pursue a higher goal beyond their personal ambitions? However that question is answered will determine whether we secure a few improbable victories or suffer total defeat.
We are not merely participating in a democratic electoral process. We are citizens who want free and responsible elections. But achieving that means dismantling the oligarchy—enough, at least, to give ourselves a chance at real change. I pray we find the courage.
