The Dynasty Equation

In the revolving doors between Big Politics and Big Business, families rule. ‘Didn’t win this year’s elections, my darling? No matter, there’s always next year, and if you lose then, we’ll have room for you at the board of directors at daddy’s company!’

You see them everywhere. In candidates –  of identical surnames – running for mayor, vice-mayor, vice-chancellor, assistant barangay chairman, vice assistant barangay captain, captain of the guard  and every other political position imaginable, greeting you Merry Christmas and a prosperous new year in media both old and new: in tabloids, billboards, broadsheets, broadcasts, faded flyers on electric posts,  posters next to tricycle stops, and ads on pay-per-view porn.

Family portraits bear their slogans in all populist shades, from ‘’end poverty!’’ to ‘’serbisyo lamang’’ (service alone)  painted on arches over impoverished slums, pre-demolition. You see their names on front page headlines praising their efforts at promoting land reform or good governance – and, about half a dozen pages later, the same names on classified ads for prime real estate, next to names of their counsin’s cousins spelled out in a series of investigative reports on the latest damning corruption scandal.

A phenomenon common among postcolonial states in South Asia, South-east Asia and the Pacific islands, political dynasties of the 21^st century are families who have managed to retain their grip on power  through generations. With their members and relations consistently guaranteed influential positions in government or business, the oldest  and most enduring of these clans stretch back to the Spanish  era.

For better or worse, these same families control, by hereditary descent or intermarriage, the country’s executive branch; its courts, its legislature,  as well as many of its industries, including basic utilities.

To those unfamiliar to this staple of  Philippine politics,  it may be inconceivable that blood relatives and  in-laws could or should have anything to do with the daily affairs of any modern democratic state. Certainly political dynasties are exceedingly rare in well-established democracies, like, say,  Norway’s – with the exception of the royal family.

Banish all thoughts  of Asiatic aristocrats in blue silk gowns and gongs. Their benevolent Filipino counterparts enjoy not a trace of royal blood.  To its many critics, the dictates of the Political Dynasty amount to no more than oligarchy, pinoy-style.

Up to 75% of all lawmakers in the 14th Congress  of the Philippines hailed from the old political clans, according to one estimate by the Asian Institute of Management Policy Center (AIMPC).

Seven out of every fifteen legislators have surnames that are a permanent feature on every ballot paper in every major election in the country: Cojuangco-Aquino, Magsaysay, Lopez, Osmeña, Roxas, Macapagal-Arroyo, Marcos, among the 169 most powerful political clans listed by political scientist Dante Simbulan  from the years 1946 to 1963. These have given birth (literally and figuratively) to 584 public officials, including seven Presidents, two Vice Presidents, 42 Senators, and 147 Representatives. By 2007, the Citizens Anti-Dynasty Movement  reported a drop in the number of those clans to 119, reflecting  not a break in tradition, but an ever greater concentration of power by fewer families.

These 119 account for far less than 1% of all families in a country of more than a hundred million constituents.

Political dynasties dominate the country’s major political parties.   76 percent of the former ruling party Lakas-Kampi are members of dynasties. 57 percent of the dominant Liberal Party belong to dynasties. Dynasty-born and bred legislators,  regardless of age group, occupy 74 percent of seats of the Nationalist People’s Coalition and 81 percent of the Nacionalista Party.

Such figures have changed little over the years.  Between 1987 and 2001, the proportion of politicians with relatives in other government posts ranged from  62% to 66% of Congress.  Dynasty -linked politicians still make up the majority of the present 15^th Congress , and though their numbers have dropped from an all-time high of 83% of all legislators in the 13^th  , that has only meant more power consolidated in fewer hands, notes the Center for People Empowerment in Governance [1].

Roster of the Elite, Rule by a Few

Dynasties are defined by geographic location and the size of their landholdings, with rival clans jealously protecting their respective turfs.  Some of the oldest include the Ortegas of La Union, the Dys of Isabela, the Marcoses and Singsons of Ilocos, the Josons of Nueva Ecija, the Garcias and Romans of Bataan, Magsaysays of Zambales, Cojuangco-Aquinos of Tarlac, Fuentebellas of Camarines Norte, Dimaporos of Lanao del Sur, Osmeñas of Cebu, Espinosas of Masbate, Rectos of Batangas, Gordons of Zambales, Plazas of Agusan, Duranos of  Danao City, Antoninos of General Santos, Lobregats of Zamboanga City and the Cerilles of Zamboanga del Sur.

New dynasties have grown in recent years –  some from scratch, others from prior political connections – with families building up new spheres of influence in business, showbiz and politics (often the three are indistinguishable).     The latest entrants? The Arroyos of Pampanga and Negros Occidental, the Angaras of Aurora, Defensors of Iloilo and Quezon City, Suarezes of Quezon, Villafuertes of Camarines Sur, Villarosas of Mindoro Occidental, Espinas of Biliran, Ampatuans of Mindanao, and Akbars of Basilan.

Metro Manila, for its part, is dominated by the Belmontes in Quezon City, the Villars in Las Piñas, Cayetanos in Taguig, Eusebios in  Pasig, Estradas in San Juan, among others. This is a partial list.

Yet perhaps no better contemporary example of Dynasty exists than the President himself, Benigno Aquino III,  the son of  a former president and an assassinated senator whose own father,  Jose Sr., was a representative of the 10^thPhilippine Assembly; and whose father before him, Melecio, was a representative of the First Philippine Assembly.Benigno Aquino, Sr.’s marriage to Corazon, of the equally influential Cojuangco clan , consolidated the political hegemony of the Cojuangco-Aquino twin dynasty, the product of a once bitter rivalry.   The Cojuangcos alone have business interests  ranging from food manufacturing to the sugar industry, own vast tracts of land and sugarcane plantations, including Hacienda Luisita, and maintain close ties to the nation’s business elite: the  Pangilinans,  Ayalas, Lopezes, Aboitizes and Consunjis, who collectively run some of the largest industries in the country, in infrastructure, manufacturing, telecommunications,  largescale mining, water and power generation.

Eduardo “Danding” Cojuangco, Jr., the President’s uncle, is chairman of San Miguel Corporation, as well as an intimate ally –  among the infamous Rolex 12 in fact – of the former dictator Ferdinand Marcos.

For all the ‘New Society’ rhetoric, Marcos was equally a product of traditional politics. His grandfather Fabian was Mayor of Batac, Ilocos Norte during the American Occupation. His father Mariano was a local politican and lawyer, and Ferdinand himself became member of the house of representatives and went on to claim for himself  a presidency that would last more than two decades. The rest, as they say, is history.

Today, post-dictatorship and post-People Power I, the Marcoses appear to have re-established themselves in mainstream politics.  Ferdinand’s widowed wife Imelda, former beauty queen and shoe enthusiast, and former governor of Metro Manila and Minister of Human Settlements, currently sits as Congresswoman of Ilocos Norte. Their son Ferdinand, Jr. is now a senator, after having left his post as governor of Ilocos Norte – a position now claimed by his sister, former congresswoman Imee.

 Having robbed Bonifacio and the Katipuneros of their revolutionary slogan (they  must be rolling in their graves), the KKK – kamag-anaks, kabarkadas, and kabarilans –now infest, or should we say bless,  the corridors of power from Malacańang palace  to the smallest barrio to the southern hinterlands of Mindanao, where warlords live by the unalterable tenets of guns, goons, and gold.

The excesses of this system go against the grain of representative democracy, Dynasty’s detractors like to point out.  Indeed, shunning all electoral rivals through sheer strength  of accumulated family power while amassing special political privileges at the expense of voting citizens is both unfair  and unconstitutional. Or so says Article II, Section 26 of the 1986 Constitution: “The State shall guarantee equal access to opportunities for public service, and prohibit political dynasties as may be defined by law.”

But no such laws have been defined since these lines were penned, in 1986, by Dynasty’s very descendants. In a lower and upper house dominated by the latter, the prospects for a  fledgling anti-dynasty bill ever to see the light of day by 2014, as proposed by Sen. Miriam Defensor-Santiago, is unlikely. Unless, that is, all Angaras, Arroyos, Aquinos, Cayetanos, Cojuangcos, Marcoses, Osmeñas, Lims – and the latest entrants into the game of family-power, the Binays and Pacquiaos – and the rest of the progeny of the more than a hundred political families who rule this country one day decide to shoot themselves in the foot.

Providing ‘equal access  to opportunities for public service’  is, of course, a nonstarter in a society  where electoral victory is  determined largely by the amount of money candidates manage to squeeze into their campaigns pre-(or post) ballot box. A political position is a commodity and dividends go to the highest bidder. AIMPC estimates suggest politicians connected to dynasties  are wealthier on average than those who are not, by tens of millions of pesos in net worth, even while dynasty-linked legislators tend to govern over impoverished districts more prone to local graft and corruption.

The wealthy thus out-compete poorer candidates who represent the majority of the country’s population for choice positions in government. The end result is more than an oligarchy, more than a failure of bourgeois representative democracy,   but  the culmination of a long and benighted tradition of family rule by the nation’s plutocratic elite.

The coalition slate  for next year’s midterm election is revealing. Where candidates tend  to run not on the basis of any meaningful platform but on the basis of popularity and clan ties, relatives and close relations campaign right across rival political parties. The President’s Liberal Party Coalition (LPC) includes his tito Danding’s political party and the Nationalista Party (NP) – with Senator Ferdinand ‘Bongbong’ Marcos [3].

The irony of all this is difficult to ignore. The NP had been led by Noynoy’s erstwhile presidential contender Manny Villar in 2010 (who, upon reaching his term limits as senator,  has urged his wife Cynthia to run instead).

Danding Cojuangco, on the other hand, has long been a rival of the Aquinos. As current President Aquino’s father languished in prison in the events leading up to EDSA I, in fact, Danding had leveraged his political weight to gain ground  in the Cojuangco-Aquino family feud, enriching himself in the process. Upon Aquino Sr.’s  assassination and after the revolution, Cory later put things in order, though tensions between the two clans allegedly remained.

Despite this dire history, the Aquinos, Cojuangcos, Villars, and Marcoses are now allies.

The sentorial slate of the LPC’s ‘rival’ United Nationalist Alliance (UNA), headed by deposed president Joseph Estrada, senate president Juan Ponce Enrile (himself a defence minister and justice secretary under the Marcos regime) and  current vice president Binay, includes the President’s cousin Bam Aquino and his tita Margarita “Tingting” Cojuangco. Also included in the coalition are Enrile’s son Jack, Estrada’s son JV Ejercito, and Binay’s daughter Nancy.

Two repeat-military coup leaders and erstwhile critics of the system are also running in both parties: Sonny Trillanes (LPC) and Gringo Honasan  (UNA), a man who once  once threatened Cory Aquino’s presidency.

Where bloodlines meet

“We have come to the conclusion that political clans, and not political parties, have been the building blocks of Philippine electoral politics”, remarked  De La Salle University professor Dr. Julio Teehankee in an introduction to a Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism seminar on the 2013 elections.

So what exactly has led to this state of affairs, a system where the lines of political partisanship are divided  not according to their respective positions on concrete issues which affect the nation, but by blood ties, popularity contests and the questionable concerns of the quintissential trapo?

Some blame it on the family-centric nature of Pinoy culture, otherwise known by that  mainstay of Philippine public life, the myth of descent, where honesty, compassion, integrity –  even the ability to rule a country – are somehow mystically passed on to future generations. But are the virtues of  good character and  political integrity genetically inheritable traits?  A decent politician is a chip off the old block, they say. And so completely untrue.

For whatever the merits of ‘’first generation’’ civil servants, there is the damning  reality of second and third generation-politicos reared in privileged detachment from the plight of their people, who receive their Masters degrees and Phds in governance or business administration at Berkely or Cambridge, who spend most of their lives in cloistered subdivisions or abroad, and for whom the psychological effect of being born with the figurative silver-spoon-in-the-mouth overpowers all inclinations toward selfless civic service.  For every Macapagal or Osmeńa, Sr. there lurks a future disappointment.

Some have argued, rather optimistically, that the younger generations of Dynasty have developed a more critical sense of their position in the status quo,  entertaining even a kind of self-loathing that may compel them one day to end their family’s reigns on their own accord. Maybe. For now though, dynasty-linked members of Congress cut across all age groups and progress on the anti-dynasty bill has stalled.

Others, like Renato Constantino and others on the left-ish press, trace Dynasty’s origins to the legacy of centuries of colonial rule which  favoured an elite clique of the Filipino ruling class.

Two consecutive regimes – first Spanish, then American – took strategic advantage of traditional  social structures organised around blood clans throughout the archipelago. With the arrival of the first conquistadors, Spanish-Filipino half-breed mestizos and illustrados (and their relatives) soon found themselves favoured and enriched by colonial authorities who entrusted in them vast landholdings and key positions in the new government. The Americans, in turn, froze such relations in time  by incorporating members of powerful clans into a burgeoning bureaucracy.

The Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) points out how the introduction of US-style electoral politics was dominated by the upper crust of  the Philippine elite, with votes limited to the wealthy and the propertied in the early 20^th century. This secured for the clans monopoly control of public office, as well as influence over much of the local populace in a pattern of patronage politics that would live on through the 21^st.

Today, term limits  meant to even out the electoral playing field have had the opposite effect:  potential political patriarchs have all the more reason to pass on the pillars of power to their descendants, like  a game of musical chairs, from children to grandchildren to great-grand-children.

The implications of family life, when brought to the corridors of power,  are apparent: in the private sector, relatives offer easy access to land, capital,  foreign investment contracts  and financial opportunities for  favoured cousins or in-laws,  even as the real economy stagnates and their constiuents starve. In Congress and Senate, they offer a permanent and trusted lobby for legislation favourable  to family and business interests. In the courts,  guaranteed legal protection and immunity from prosecution. In the economy at large, they consolidate  clan control over lucrative business deals, corporate profit flows, even private armies, as the Maguindanao massacre – the dire aftermath of a decades-long rivalry of two politically entrenched clans – makes all too clear.

But wait. Perhaps we’re being a little unfair. Perhaps, for all its flaws, Dynasty does have its advantages. After all, weren’t the nation’s best leaders the products of blood lines that go back to the days of Aquinaldo?

So says senator Alan Peter Cayetano, son of former senator Rene Cayetano and brother of senator Pia Cayetano, who commented in an article for the Philippine Daily Inquirer last November [2]: “If you have relatives in government and all of you are clean, isn’t that better than being the only one in government from your family but you’re quite corrupt?”

Touché. Cayetano’s comment touches on an important point. An ‘’innocent’’ grandson of a former dictator is surely a lesser evil than a kleptocratic bureaucrat with no other relatives in power.  A few of the largest and oldest dynasties have also, in a twisted sense, tended to give  at least some attention to longer-term economic development among their constituencies – given the need to compete with other well-established political clans for votes, and to allow for their descendants a smoother transition to power.

But all this overlooks another crucial point: the debt of families whose special priveleges have been  amassed through both legal and less savoury means in a Philippine political arena historically rigged in their favour.

In addition, members of these clans and their allies remain manifestly unrepresentative, by virtue of class and status, of the interests of the broader Filipino masses. An electoral system saturated by dynasty’s affluent descendants also bars new blood from coming in with fresh ideas for answers to problems  mainstream parties have clearly been unable to address.

So what is to be done ? An obvious answer is to steer clear of candidates with even the remotest ties to entrenched political clans,  and to support instead candidates truly representative of the majority of our people, suggests organisations such as the Partido Lakas ng Masa (PLM) and Krusada Kontra-Dinastiya (Crusade Against Political Dynasties), who are launching an all-out campaign  in time for this year’s midterm elections.  But citizens remain hobbled in that attempt,  partly out of fear of  veering away from the tried and tested… partly out of a lack of decent alternatives.

The solution, then,  is to create those alternatives to  fit a new equation. Opposition to the reign of political dynasties have waned somewhat since the fall of Marcos.  Perhaps it’s time to try again.

END NOTES

[1] Tuazon, Bobby. CENPEG. Quoted in 75% sa bagong Kongreso mula sa political dynasty. 29 June 2007.<http://www.gmanetwork.com/news/story/48929/pinoyabroad/balitangpinoy/75-sa-bagong-kongreso-mula-sa-political-dynasty&gt;

[2] Bordadora, Norman. There’s nothing wrong with political dynasties, says Alan Cayetano. 3 November 2012.  Philippine Daily Inquirer. <http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/300474/theres-nothing-wrong-with-political-dynasties-says-alan-cayetano>

[3] Santolan, Joseph.  Philippine politicians declare candidacy for the 2013 election.  13 October 2012..<http://wsws.org/en/articles/2012/10/phil-o13.html>