The clamor for anti-dynasty law

From fat to obese. That’s how a 2019 paper by the Ateneo School of Government described the dominance of political dynasties in the Philippines.

Analyzing data from 1988 to 2019, the paper found that family dynasts have tightened their grip on all local positions from 19 percent in 1988 to 29 percent in 2017, or some 170 positions per election period.

From 1,303 political clans with two family members, 257 political clans with three family members, and 157 political clans with four or more family members in 2001, the number rose to 1,548; 339; and 217; respectively, in 2019.

The Advocates of Science and Technology for the People, or Agham, a group of scientists, meanwhile, cited how dynasties have taken over top posts in both local and national government: 99 percent in the Senate, 67 percent in the House, 80 percent among provincial governors, and 63 percent of mayors.

It’s no surprise then that Congress has moved sluggishly to effect into law Article 2, Section 26 of the Constitution, which explicitly mandates the state to guarantee equal access to public service and prohibit political dynasties.

After all, why expect lawmakers to pass a law that would dissolve their privileged perch in politics by virtue of blood and family ties?

Family-centric

But with an investigation into corrupted flood control projects revealing how checks and balances have been eroded by officials sharing the same lineage, the clamor to finally pass an anti-dynasty bill resurfaced, with several versions filed in the Senate and in the House.

Among them is House Bill No. 5905, sponsored by Akbayan representatives, which prohibits any person related within the fourth degree of consanguinity or affinity to an incumbent elective official from running or holding office, unless the incumbent is ending their term within the same election year.

This covers immediate and distant relatives — from parents, children, siblings, and in-laws, down to first cousins, great-uncles and aunts, and great-great-grandparents. Still not quite as extensive, naysayers scoff, describing the Philippines as being family-centric, with even household help seen as extended family.

Detractors, meanwhile, consider HB 6771, authored by Speaker Faustino Dy III, as effectively preserving “monopoly over political power” as it allows relatives to rotate, substitute for, or succeed one another in elective positions.

With the issue provoking divergent views, the series of public consultations may be a good way to gauge public sentiment on dynasties, while being part of voter education toward more mature political choices.

Generational rift

For sure, it would be a thorny road ahead, with the Filipinos’ strong sense of utang na loob or debt of gratitude creating resistance among constituents who see public works projects as personal favors from politicians, instead of being part of their mandate carried out with public funds.

The consultations also revealed a generational rift, with older generations clinging to familiar names — the devil they know — while the youth decry the illusion of choice in traditional politics and the exclusion of more qualified candidates outside the ruling family’s circle. “Competencies are not inherited, and neither should positions be,” they noted.

As it is, political dynasties not only concentrate power in a few complicit hands; they carry economic costs as well, and not just with elected officials passing laws or influencing policies that favor their family’s businesses.

A 2015 study by the Philippine Institute for Development Studies found that dynasties are most prevalent in the poorest provinces, where weak governance and corruption conspire to limit upward mobility.

With business interests at stake and the perks that political power brings, it’s no wonder that officials would cling to their posts, using kith and kin as placeholders while they wait out the prohibition period. They have the resources to run after all, unlimited funds that shut out less endowed but more worthy candidates.

Perpetual hold

In a real democracy where everyone is allowed to run and have the opportunity to serve the public, an anti-dynasty law levels the playing field, muting the name recall that gives political dynasts an unfair edge.

Accountability, too, takes a hit with relatives covering for each other, and looking the other way while murky deals are forged unencumbered. With corruption unchecked, it’s easy to understand why the country’s poorest provinces are often ruled by thriving dynasts.

As important as public consultations are to thresh out the details of an effective and comprehensive anti-dynasty law, it is just as crucial for Congress to summon the political will to finally hammer out this legislation instead of running loops around their constitutional duty these past four decades.

Yes, officials would need to sacrifice their perpetual hold on political power for this to happen, but as one participant in a recent consultation noted, “The common Filipino makes sacrifices every day; it’s time for government officials to do so as well.”