Retired presidents
Philippine Daily Inquirer Asia News Network Manila
Former presidents, like other retired people, face the problem of what to do with themselves after serving out their terms.
In the United States, ex-presidents either write memoirs, sort out their papers and build up their libraries, take a trade (as President Jimmy Carter, who makes furniture), or go back to the ranch (as Presidents Lyndon Johnson and Ronald Reagan did). But everyone drops out of sight completely, and rarely come out in public except to attend state functions to which they are invited by the sitting president at the White House. They leave the center stage to the incumbent, and seldom offer advice unless it is sought.
In the wake of the Sept. 11 Bill Clinton, now a New Yorker, showed up in New York as a spectator of the carnage, but he didn't steal the show from President George W. Bush or Mayor Rudy Giuliani. In fact, Clinton backed Bush's policy on terrorism.
The above describes briefly American political tradition. Ex- presidents, because of their unique political experience, hold a treasure trove of insights which sometimes find their way into books. In the Philippines, where former officials hardly write memoirs, no tradition governs the conduct of ex-presidents.
Among our living presidents, Corazon Aquino reappears in public to rouse people behind her favorite causes (i.e., People Power movements) during political crisis. Joseph Estrada is engaged in a life-and-death legal battle and hardly has any time for anything else. Besides, he has been inhibited from engaging in any political activity.
Fidel Ramos has his own ideas of political activism after his presidency. Vigorous and fit at 73, he can't leash his energy. He believes he can still stand as president; he is restless, and offers gratuitous advice and criticism. His interventions in public affairs have irritated both Estrada, to whom he once issued an ultimatum to shape up or quit during a meeting of the National Security Council, and President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.
He calls himself the country's "coup expert," and on this basis he offers unsolicited advice to President Arroyo not to worry about coup plots.
The problem is that the President is not quite sure where she stands vis-a-vis Ramos. Many times, he has criticized her, telling her to focus on the economy and forget about 2004. Although he has been named by the President as a special envoy to help sell the country to foreign investors, Ramos keeps a high profile in domestic politics. He loves traveling and enjoys his special designation, given that he is still well regarded in the international community owing to his impressive record in transforming the economy into near tiger status during his watch.
Ramos is chafing at the little influence he wields in the Arroyo administration. It is obvious he wants to play kingmaker as founder of Lakas-NUCD and its president emeritus and has hinted that Arroyo needs the party machine in 2004. His flirtation with the idea of running again for president in 2004 annoys Arroyo and has created tensions in their otherwise cooperative relationship.
Living Filipino ex-presidents have a venue for participation in statecraft: The Council of State, composed of incumbent executive, legislative, political leaders and elder statesmen. But the Council has been moribund. For an ex-president, the danger of keeping a high profile is that in trying to steal he can easily turn into a public nuisance.
Ramos wants to wear many hats. He derives inspiration from the fact that Konrad Adenauer was West Germany's chancellor at age 80, and Charles de Gaulle rode back to power from his first retirement in his 70s. These are rare cases, and even these two leaders didn't do too well in their last years in office.
De Gaulle knew when to retire. Ramos does not know when he should stay in the background and avoid competing for attention with incumbent leaders. Being the old general that he is, he should just fade away.