Ideal worlds

Another dramatic thing happened in the election, though not quite a surprising one. That was Leni Robredo leading the rout of Luis Villafuerte in Camarines Sur. Leni buried Luis’ wife, Nelly, in a landslide in the congressional fight for the third district. John Bongat, a Robredo ally, remained mayor of Naga City, leaving his nearest rival, Jun Pelagio, biting the dust as well, and Luis himself lost to his grandson, Migz, as governor of the province.

The last is a curious twist in Philippine politics. It owes to Luis and son, LRay, being locked in a bitter feud, at times bordering on the violent. When LRay fielded his 23-year-old son against his estranged father, many thought he was crazy. The wise money said Migz didn’t have a chance, Luis owned Camarines Sur, he would win as he had always done in four decades by hook or by crook.

Lo and behold, neither hook nor crook worked. Last I looked, Migz was leading Luis by 50,000 or so. He’ll be the youngest governor in history.

A great deal of this owes to Leni. She it is who has brought about Villafuerte’s downfall, something her husband, Jesse, was never able to do in his lifetime. Her story invites a bit of comparison with Cory’s. Like Cory, she had lost her husband, though by the hand of fate or improvidence in her case rather than by the hand of man or a tyrant. Like Cory, she had been content to stay in the shadows and let her husband bathe in the public gaze. Like Cory, she had been thrust into politics by necessity, a reluctant candidate compelled to run to make sure her husband did not die in vain, his cause would go on. Like Cory, she faced a daunting task, fighting a kingpin that had ruled her province for as long as her province could remember. Like Cory, she had turned the fight into black and white, dark and light, abjectness and deliverance.

Like Cory, she now stands on the field of battle, surveying the remnants of her enemy’s scattered forces.

It’s not without a great deal of irony. Jesse Robredo himself had not planned on running for senator in the last election. He had entertained it early last year, but had abandoned it when he saw his ratings were not going up. He had been a great local official, even getting the Magsaysay Award for good governance, leaping over the heads of national officials for the honor. Alas, in this country it wasn’t enough to become senator. Bowing to necessity, Jesse settled for staying with the Department of the Interior and Local Government.

Alas, too, fate had other ideas. His plane crashed one not very fine day in August last year, and suddenly the world he left behind changed. His death transformed him, making him more alive at least in his people’s memory than he had been in life. Certainly, it opened people’s eyes, making them realize what a blessing—and loss—he was to governance.

Leni didn’t just inherit her husband’s mantle, she earned it. She did so by the composure she showed in the wake of her husband’s passing. She did so by the fortitude and courage she showed in the face of grief and devastation, in the face of the multitude of things she had to attend to while mourning her loss. She did so by showing a quietness and grace amid the whirlwind of the sudden discovery of her husband’s worth, a thing that threatened to sweep her off her feet as well.

The landslide did not just owe to Jesse, it owed to her too. In the voters’ certainty, whatever her husband had planted, she would bring to fruition, whatever her husband had started, she would finish. I myself thought that if she had decided to run for senator—someone would tell me she never got invited, a not entirely surprising oversight from a group of people given to oversights—she would have won hands down. I did worry that Leni could become a victim of local politics, a more hospitable home to money, thuggery, and dirty tricks, her enemies having all three in abundance. But as it turned out, she had something more powerful than those things.

She had the voters. She had the people.

Of course like Grace Poe, Leni Robredo has a world of obstacles to hurdle before she can conquer the world. Not least is making sure the political dynasties of Camarines Sur do not mount a comeback. The trick is not just in banishing them, it is keeping them from coming back. Six years ago, Ed Panlilio did the seemingly impossible too, which was to bring down the Pinedas. Six years ago, Grace Padaca did the seemingly impossible too, which was to bring down the Dys—talk of grace and dynasties. Three years later, the Pinedas and Dys were back. Three years later, Panlilio and Padaca were out.

Just as well, Leni has yet to prove herself in Congress. But of that I have little doubt, just as I have little doubt Grace Poe will acquit herself well in the Senate. Both are extremely capable, both are extremely intelligent. And both carry with them a legacy that will flail at their backs like a whip, or blow at their sails like the wind. Poe carries the dream of her father with her, the dream of lifting up the poor, the dream of educating the poor. And Leni carries the work of her husband with her, the boundless potential of local government, the boundless power of good governance. Motivation is the strongest engine of all.

Like Poe, Leni will soon find herself resolutely wooed for higher office by those angling for the presidency. She represents something bigger than herself. But the rest of us can dream us well, and imagine that in an ideal world you can always have Leni—and Grace—spurning them and reaching for bigger things, grander things. In an ideal world, you can always have Grace and Leni themselves teaming up to run for president and vice-president of this country. Wouldn’t that be something?

Well, who says we can’t make this an ideal world?