Politics along the Maharlika Highway

In the short run, there is nothing more important for the government to do than to come down with a Thor-like hammer on people who steal the money and resources gathered from around the world for the survivors of Supertyphoon “Yolanda.” Let it come down with the stereophonic sound we hear in the “Thor” movies. Justice should be done quickly, and be seen to be done quickly. Quick, decisive punishment can make a dent in the corruption that some claim is appearing in the reconstruction program.

In Bangkok, businessmen once had a habit of burning down their enterprises around the New Year for insurance purposes, if they had had a bad year financially. I was told the story in the early 1970s, so the practice must have been prevalent in the 1950s or 1960s. It caused such havoc that the prime minister warned the business community he would make an example of the next businessman-arsonist. Shortly, however, another building was burned. The prime minister went to the scene of the fire and summoned the owner of the building. When the man arrived, the prime minister shot him.

I don’t remember if the man died. I don’t know for sure if the story is true. The point of the story is surely correct: that prompt, visible justice is very effective.

At a meeting on Dec. 17 at Ateneo de Manila University, it was suggested that we make corruption in the reconstruction program a heinous crime and therefore nonbailable. Such a crime deserves to be described as heinous. It steals from the poorest at their most vulnerable moment, and it ruins the country’s moral standing in the eyes of the world. Isn’t such a person traitorous?

In the long run, there is the continuing struggle to control the political dynasties that lodge at the heart of the country’s problems. A trip to Bicol during the Christmas season showed once again the importance of this struggle.

Driving along the Maharlika Highway from just beyond San Pedro, Laguna, to the first towns of Camarines Sur, we didn’t see a single new business venture. There was no new factory, restaurant, or multistory building of any sort, no small but bright coffee shop—nothing, not even a very small business start-up. There was no sign that the country’s recent economic growth had reached these old towns.

Instead, on the highway which should be a choice economic location, we saw abandoned shacks such as you can see in urban poor areas, empty lots filling up with junk, untidy car repair shops, junk shops and weather-beaten bodegas. The highway itself is full of potholes and long stretches where half the road is cemented and the other side under repair.

There are exceptions: Cities like Naga and Pili, when lit up at night, are as bustling as Cubao. But there are other towns we remember as full of promise a decade or two ago that now are just older and weary-looking.

The rice fields were still beautiful in the mist and light rain. The sun when it came out still winked at us in the breaks between the trees. We started on our journey at 6 a.m., just in time to see a farmer wait patiently for his carabao to finish grazing at the edge of the field before beginning work. We watched women sweep the barrio street in front of their houses. All bent and moved in unison. They swept with easy fluid grace, as if in a dance.

Back in Manila, I talked to friends who blamed the apparent lack of development on the godfather-like control that political dynasties exercise in their fiefdoms. These critics pointed out that individuals or families in power for a long time tend to resist economic change, unless it makes its appearance in a form that is acceptable to them. Young, talented business men and women are reluctant to be entangled in such a setup, and make their way to Manila and Cebu. They remember that “you need a long spoon to eat with the devil.”

The dynasty-controlled towns stretch down to the Visayas, I was told, with a few exceptions in Albay and Sorsogon along the way.

We usually discuss dynasties, rural and urban, in terms of their negative impact on political democracy. It seems they can have an equally harmful economic influence, judging by the lack of growth in the towns along the Maharlika. Research will most likely show that the dynasties

also distort the cultural and religious dimensions of people’s lives. Dynasties are martial law writ small. They are the principal obstacles in the way of a fair and prosperous life for all Filipinos.

What must be done? Support for the anti-dynasty legislation is one positive step to be taken. We must also see to the bottom-up education and organization of all our poor people, so they are prepared to be partners in the development and justice work of the future.

In Brazil, former president Lula da Silva’s Workers Party attributes its success in great part to the work of the Basic Christian Communities that covered the country in the 1970s to the 1990s. Nearly all the key leaders, including Lula and other leaders of the party, had been members of the BCCs. There they learned that God wants the poor to struggle for a better life for all people as much as he wants them to go to church. The Brazil poor were ready when the real chance for change came.

We can repeat that work here. We have been at it for years already in the Church’s Basic Ecclesial Communities and in the grassroots education work of organizers among farmers, workers and urban poor people. Let us build our country’s reconstruction from the bottom up.

Denis Murphy works with the Urban Poor Associates (urbanpoorassociates@ymail.com).