On May 9, the Philippines went to the polls in what has been called “by far the most divisive and consequential electoral contest” in the Philippines.

The electoral race had boiled down to two frontrunners: one was the current Vice-President Leni Robredo, running on a “people-led” campaign, and driven by a call to transparency and good governance. Pink became her signature colour.

Her supporters took to wearing the colour and calling themselves “kakampinks” (pink allies). The second frontrunner candidate was Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr, the son of late dictator Ferdinand Marcos. Marcos is part of a political dynasty and represents the status quo of Philippines governance which has been criticised as corrupt and unequal.

Last week, Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr was confirmed as the incoming president of the Philippines.

Nina Santos, an award-winning Filipina law student, advocate and campaigner — as well as a self-proclaimed kakampink — writes on watching the election unfold from overseas and her devastation — but also hope — for what comes next.

I’m writing this a week after the 2022 Philippine elections after I cried for my country for the first time.

In the last week, I’ve grappled with intense anxiety, rage, grief — and for a moment, a feeling of hopelessness. I know I’m not alone.

Several friends and family have attested to the collective grief among many Filipinos, particularly those who were part of the “pink revolution”. The people-led campaign for Vice President Leni Robredo was built on hopes for good governance, and transparency, and ultimately stopping the return of the brutal Marcos dynasty.

The campaign slogan “Angat Buhay Lahat”, directly translates to “Better lives for everyone” — and I think this encapsulates the movement well.

Before others comment on how biased this article is, I’ll say it straight up: I’m proud to say that I am one of many “kakampinks” (pink allies) who took a stand against million-dollar misinformation campaigns, fake news and downright historical distortion which now plague the Philippines.

I’ve lived in New Zealand for nearly nine years, but this hasn’t dampened my connection with the motherland. Like many Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs), I followed the election closely. I lived vicariously through my friends and family who campaigned tirelessly, knocked on doors, volunteered.

In solidarity, I watched live streams of rallies, attended events in Auckland, and tried debunking misinformation on social media where possible.

Immense health, climate and socio-economic crises
I understand that I played a very small role in the campaign, but the point is I was hopeful. You have to be, especially given the immense health, climate and socio-economic crises in the Philippines.

This election was particularly important and deeply personal as there was a risk of another Marcos getting back into power. For context, former dictator Ferdinand Marcos was ousted by the Filipino people in 1986. The Marcos dictatorship was marked by extensive extrajudicial killings, documented tortures, countless disappearances and incarcerations. Not to mention the billions owed in unpaid taxes.

The elections also happened amid a global pandemic and crippling effects of the last six years under the Duterte administration, one riddled with extrajudicial killings and human rights violations. There was and still is a lot at stake for the Philippines.

There is a saying that goes, “Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels.”

Many people say that the results of the elections were expected given that the Marcoses set out a well-orchestrated campaign built on misinformation, backed by machinery, resources, and enabled by rampant corruption in the Philippines.

There were numerous reports of vote-buying and irregularities which are yet to be addressed by the Commission on Elections. This makes moving on hard to do.

To never forgetting
I’m writing this because I want to remember. I borrow Nuelle Duterte’s words: In this case, widespread corruption and misinformation won over a people-led campaign.

This is devastating and I will never forget how hopeless I felt coming to terms with this reality.

However, I want to note that we cannot blame this on the masses. I disagree with international media coverage that put the blame on Filipinos for what happened in the elections.

Let us not forget the colonial history of the Philippines and the role this played in destabilising the Philippine economy and political systems.

Let us not forget that the Marcoses and Dutertes prey on the marginalised, those who do not have the privilege and headspace to think about politics, and those who have limited access to education and resources, thereby making them more susceptible to fake news and misinformation.

Let us not forget that this cycle is hard to break.

While many are victims, I am most disappointed in people who have the power and privilege to seek resources and educate themselves on issues of the day, yet actively chose to be peddlers of disinformation.

Too many people have played a part in enabling the return of the Marcos family and distorting our country’s history. To other Filipinos, I plead that we never get tired of helping them remember.

Never forget the martial law atrocities
I hope we never forget the atrocities of the martial law era. I hope we never forget the families that are still longing for justice.

I hope we never forget the rage we feel now and that we can eventually transform this rage into something useful.

I hope we never forget the hope that was sparked by the pink movement, how it brought out the best in each of us. I hope we never forget what it’s like to be hopeful. We have to be.

Walang sayang. Nagsisimula pa lang. Nothing was wasted. We’re just getting started.

Nina Santos is a Filipina and a passionate advocate for ethnic communities, migrant rights and gender equality.This article was first published by the Asia Media Centre and is republished with the permission of the author.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

Children should not pay for the sins of their parents. But in some cases, a healthy suspicion of the offspring is needed, notably when it comes to profiting off ill-gotten gains.

It is certainly needed in the case of Filipino politician and presidential candidate Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr, who stands to win today if opinion polls are to be believed.

Bongbong’s father was the notorious martial law strongman Ferdinand Marcos; his mother, the avaricious, shoe-crazed Imelda.

Elected president in 1965, Ferdinand Marcos indulged in murder, torture and looting. He thrived on the terrain of violent, corrupt oligarchic politics, characterised by a telling remark from the dejected Sergio Osmenã Jr, whom he defeated in 1969: “We were outgunned, outgooned, and outgold.”

In 1972, martial law was imposed on the pretext of a failed assassination attempt against the defence secretary, an attack which saw no injuries nor apprehension of suspects. It was only formally lifted in 1981.

Under the blood-soaked stewardship of the Marcos regime, 70,000 warrantless arrests were made, and 4000 people killed.

The Philippines duly declined in the face of monstrous cronyism, institutional unaccountability and graft, becoming one of the poorest in Southeast Asia. While Marcos Sr’s own official salary never rose above US$13,500 a year, he and his cronies made off with $10 billion. (Estimates vary.)

Garish portraits, designer shoes
When revolutionaries took over the Presidential palace, they found garishly ornate portraits, 15 mink coats, 508 couture gowns and more than 3000 pairs of Imelda’s designer shoes.

Fleeing the Philippines in the wake of the “people power” popular insurrection of 1986 led by supporters of Corazon “Cory” Aquino, the Marcoses found sanctuary in the bosom of US protection, taking up residence in Hawai’i.

Opinion polls show that Bongbong is breezing his way to office, a phenomenon that has little to do with his personality, sense of mind, or presence.

A Pulse Asia survey conducted in February showed voter approval at an enviable 60 percent. This would suggest that the various petitions seeking to disqualify him have had little effect on perceptions lost in the miasma of myth and speculation.

All this points to a dark combination of factors that have served to rehabilitate his family’s legacy.

For the student aware of the country’s oligarchic politics, this is unlikely to come as shocking. For one, the Marcoses have inexorably found their way back into politics, making their way through the dynastic jungle.

Imelda, for all her thieving ways, found herself serving in the House of Representatives four times and unsuccessfully ran for the presidency in 1992. Daughter Imee became governor of the province of Ilocos Norte in 2010, and has been serving as a senator since 2019.

Contested the vice-presidency – and lost
Marcos Jr followed a similar trajectory, becoming a member of congress and senator and doing so with little distinction. In 2016, he contested the vice-presidency and lost.

Bongbong has already done his father proud at various levels, not least exhibiting a tendency to fabricate his past. On the touchy issue of education, Oxford University has stated at various points that Marcos Jr, while matriculating at St Edmund Hall in 1975, never took a degree in Politics, Philosophy and Economics — as he claims.

According to the institution’s records, “he did not complete his degree, but was awarded a special diploma in Social Studies in 1978″.

A statement from the Oxford Philippines Society remarks that, “Marcos failed his degree’s preliminary examinations at the first attempt. Passing the preliminary examinations is a prerequisite for continuing one’s studies and completing a degree at Oxford University”.

The issue was known as far back as 1983, when a disturbed sister from the Religious of the Good Shepherd wrote to the university inquiring about the politician’s credentials and received a letter confirming that fact.

Outgoing President Rodrigo Duterte, whose own rule has been characterised by populist violence and impunity, has played his role in the rehabilitative process. In 2016, almost three decades after the former dictator died in Hawai’i, Duterte gave permission for Ferdinand Marcos to be buried with full military honours in Manila’s National Heroes’ Cemetery.

The timing of the burial was kept secret, prompting Vice-President Leni Robredo to describe the ceremony as “a thief in the night”.

‘Legitimising’ massive violations of human rights
A coalition of Jesuit groups claimed that the interring of Marcos in Manila “buries human dignity by legitimising the massive violations of human and civil rights… that took place under his regime.” Duterte would have appreciated the mirror-effect of the move, a respectful nod from one human rights abuser to another.

Under his direction, thousands of drug suspects have been summarily butchered.

Bongbong has also taken the cue, rehabilitating his parents using a polished, digital campaign of re-invention that trucks in “golden age” nostalgia and delusion.

Political raw material has presented itself. The gap between the wealthy and impoverished, which his father did everything to widen, has not been closed by successive governments. According to 2021 figures from the Philippine Statistics Authority, 24 percent of Filipinos — some 26 million people — live below the poverty line.

Videos abound claiming that his parents were philanthropists rather than figures of predation. The issue of martial law brutality has all but vanished in the narrative.

Social media and online influencers have managed the growth of this image through a coordinated campaign of disinformation waged across multiple platforms.

Gemma B. Mendoza of the Philippine news platform Rappler has noted the more sinister element of these efforts. Even as the legacy of a family dictatorship is being burnished, the press and critics are being hounded.

Robredo the only challenge
The only movement standing in the way of the Marcos family is Vice-President Robredo, who triumphed over Marcos Jr in 2016. Her hope is a brand of politics nourished by grassroots participation rather than shameless patronage.

The same cannot be said of the political classes who operate on the central principle of Philippine politics: impunity.

This, at least, is how political scientist Dr Aries Arugay, an associate professor of the University of Philippines, sees it: “We just don’t jail our politicians or make them accountable … we don’t punish them, unlike South Korean presidents.”

The opposite is the case, and as the voters make it to the ballot today, the country, if polls are to be believed, will see another Marcos in the presidential palace.

Dr Binoy Kampmark was a Commonwealth Scholar at Selwyn College, Cambridge. He currently lectures at RMIT University in Melbourne, Australia. 

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz