Philippines still mired in politics of crisis

Rodolfo C. Severino The Straits Times Asia News Network/Singapore

Observers of Southeast Asia have grown increasingly alarmed, as well as fascinated, by the current political turmoil in the Philippines and its possible impact on the country and on the regional economy. Already, at least three international credit- rating agencies have downgraded the outlook for the Philippines. Both the stock market and the peso's value have dipped. Nervousness about the country could quickly tarnish the image of the region as a whole.

Pressure has been exerted on President Gloria Arroyo to resign following her admission that she had spoken to an election commissioner about her margin of victory before the results of the 2004 presidential election were officially proclaimed.

Motives for the calls for resignation are varied. Regardless of those motives and the immediate outcome, the events roiling the country have reinforced the Philippines' image as a nation in constant turmoil, one that is dangerously short of the stability and predictability that investors require.

That image is the immediate product of a succession of constitutional and political crises over more than 30 years -- Marcos' proclamation of martial law in 1972, the politically motivated murder of Benigno Aquino in 1983, the military rebellion, with "people power" support, ending Marcos' rule in 1986. Then there was the extra-constitutional replacement of Joseph Estrada by his vice-president, Mrs Arroyo, in January 2001, and numerous coup attempts and armed mutinies afterwards and in-between.

These recurrent crises are in turn the natural outcome of an entrenched system where no party that stands for something contests elections. Votes are consequently cast for individuals on the basis of patronage, handouts, mass mobilization or celebrity status.

Soon after the United States grabbed the Philippines from Spain and from Philippine revolutionaries at the turn of the 20th century, Washington superimposed on its new colony a system of government that had the forms of democratic self-rule.

Politicians flitted like butterflies between them, espousing no discernible programs or political leanings. The late senator Raul Manglapus called them two factions of one party.

Today, there is even less pretense at political parties. Elections are normally nothing but contests over personal or clan supremacy in particular localities. No connection is made between the ballot and public policy, between how people vote and how they live. No major group in Congress or elsewhere in the political system articulates the needs and desires of people other than the well-connected.

Despite the heroic efforts of some politicians and bureaucrats, the interests of the vast majority seldom prevail in public policy.

President Arroyo seems to recognize the problem. Responding to the calls for her resignation on July 7, she underlined what she called the country's "biggest most painful political truth". This, she said, was "disgust, hopelessness, and even despair among large segments of our society". She then called for reform of the political system in order "to make it more responsive to the people's will such that changes in leadership come about in an orderly and stable manner".

She would do this through constitutional changes that would "confront such basic issues as federalism, the character of our legislative process, reducing red tape in government processes, running for public office under a true party system and with less need to raise campaign funds, modernizing the economic provisions of our Constitution, and so forth".

Proposals have been made to change the political system from a presidential to a parliamentary form, a system never tried in the country.

The argument seems to be that if the political leadership performs well it can continue governing, whereas if it performs badly it can be thrown out of office through elections. As in true democracies, this would encourage good, responsive governance.

However, things will most likely remain the same unless political parties with recognizable and distinguishable programs -- or, at least, leanings -- somehow emerge and present themselves to the electorate. Otherwise, what will prevent parliamentarians, if they continue to be elected as essentially party-less individuals, from forming fluid alliances and changing governments every six weeks or exacting personal concessions from the government as the price for their support?

A more fundamental question is this: Why should the few who have benefited so much from an electoral system that consists of competitions between rich and powerful clans now want to enfranchise the many through a genuine change?

Constitutional change may be necessary, but it will take more than that for the Philippines to emerge from its politics of crisis. There is some hope that the current crisis and a debate on constitutional change will lead Filipinos finally to grapple with the truth that their political system does not serve the majority.

Thus they might see the need to change it. And not just by tinkering with constitutional forms, but through reforms that will truly empower them. This is an extremely difficult proposition that will require strong, visionary, patriotic and skillful leadership.

Only then will the Philippines become a democracy in its real meaning and live up to the economic and human potential of its people.

The writer is a visiting senior research fellow at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. The views expressed here are his own.