by Nicasio Angelo Agustin
I am watching the news as I am typing my column. The reporter highlighted something that might not have been readily apparent to a casual observer at the Lakas-Kampi-CMD proclamation rally. Willard Cheng pointed out that when Gibo made his entrance as the administration’s standard bearer for 2010, PGMA was nowhere near the stage. The usual practice of the raising of hands by the incumbent and the anointed did not happen — which is possibly a passive admission by the party that a PGMA endorsement is tantamount to the kiss of death.
The proclamation rally is not the only gauge of the negative perception this administration has suffered these past years. Surveys have demonstrated the undeniable decline in the average Pinoy’s satisfaction with the current leadership, and there are no indicators that this will change as this leadership’s twilight moments are approaching.
As the deadline for the filing of candidacy nears, we are witnesses yet again to another indicator of this administration’s perceived kiss of death. Some people call them balimbing, but this intrinsically Tagalog term belies the fact that it is a national phenomenon and afflicts not just presidentiables and senatoriables but mayors, councilors and your friendly neighborhood kapitan, as well.
I prefer to name it after its main practitioners in the animal kingdom: this indicator is what you call “rats”. This phenomenon is not the exclusive domain of pirates or Filipino seamen. Rats in Philippine politics are exactly what they are: in the event of an impending shipwreck, rats scurry from the depths of the floating coffin and jump overboard before the captain can even say “abandon ship!” If the mass exodus from the administration to the Liberal Party is an indicator, it would not be over-arching to conclude that most politicians are more rodents than public servants.
Some would go as far as to say that political parties are not built on platforms, paradigms or development perspectives; rather, that parties exist for networking, linkages and the bartering of influence within one’s bailiwick to cement his “contribution” to the victory of the winning-est candidate. Trail in the surveys and find yourself holding on to a sinking Super Ferry when everyone else has gotten into a lifeboat. Be a front runner, and everyone will pledge undying love, loyalty, their lives plus the kitchen sink — just don’t forget them when you win.
The most blasé of us would easily dismiss political turncoats as a given every time there is an election. But it is in that dismissal where the dangers lie. That pledge of support always comes at a price: concessions, a piece of the power and funding pie, compromises. If the Liberal Party intends to ride its honeymoon with the voters until May 2010, its image must remain untainted even as it accepts more rats into its idealistic and currently winnable ranks.
There is strength in numbers: and political parties will be the first to admit that they need every person, source of funding and influence they can get. However, this acceptance of turncoats may eventually be perceived to be more for political expedience than principle. If that happens, the brave souls who choose to remain in a sinking ship will appear to be more upright, honorable and moral.
How long before this happens? The elections are six months away. While the clock is ticking, the boat may just remain afloat.
Feel free to send your comments to nic_agustin@yahoo.com.
