BUT BECAUSE Estrada has a keen understanding of the prerogatives of presidential power, he doesn’t really care. There is a certain in-your-faceness about the casualness with which he makes his appointments. To be sure, the choices for top Cabinet posts were made with evident care, in terms not only of appeasing the various blocs that supported Estrada’s candidacy but also in terms of choosing men and women who had professional qualifications for their posts (even if they come came from the same San Juan neighborhood or the same class at the Ateneo as the president’s). The notable exception is Environment and Natural Resources Secretary Antonio Cerilles, who was named largely for his role in mustering Mindanao votes for the president, rather than an expertise in environmental issues.

Below Cabinet level, however, the appointments have been a bit more helter-skelter. On the one hand, there were the concessions to the “Chinoy” business community. On the other hand, there were appointments from the Left flank, with former communist Horacio Morales heading the agrarian reform department, long-time NGO activist Karina David being appointed presidential assistant on housing and chief of the Housing and Urban Development Council, and environmental lawyer Donna Gasgonia being named presidential assistant for poverty alleviation. To the cynical, these appointments may seem like sops to the Left, but they make sense as far as the fit between appointee and position is concerned.

Others are more difficult to fathom; for example, the mingling of movie personalities and serious scholars in the same government boards. In one case, Estrada’s brother-in-law Raul de Guzman, former dean of the University of the Philippines College of Public Administration, sits as a government nominee on the San Miguel Corp. board together with film producer Espiridion Laxa.

It can be said that this diversity is typical of the rainbow coalition—ranging from former Marcos cronies to former communists, from frivolous movie stars to dead-serious academics—that brought Estrada to Malacañang. This diversity is most evident in Erap’s eclectic Cabinet, which is made up of individuals who are such polar opposites they cancel each other out. Such diversity in turn is a natural outcome of a party system that is rooted not in platform or ideology but in family, popularity, personality and convenience.

At any rate, the current crop of appointments also betray a mischievous, Erapesque sense of humor. For how else can one explain the little-known Rodolfo Balmori, who was appointed last September as presidential adviser on dairy, cattle and carabao development, except as the personal choice of a president whose most memorable bill as senator was one on protecting the carabao? Or Adelaida “Baby” Magsaysay, wife of Zambales politico Gene Magsaysay, whose title simply says “presidential assistant” but whose real function, Palace insiders say, is to book dance instructors for presidential parties? Or, for that matter, one Danter Sullivan, appointed “presidential assistant to the presidential consultant on computer education”?

THE PROBLEM REALLY is the presidential system itself, which is structured for such capricious use of power. The concentration of so much power in one person lends itself easily to both abuse and whimsy. As Joel Rocamora of the Institute for Popular Democracy writes, “The Philippine presidency is an extremely powerful position, even more powerful than its model, the American presidency. Because of the centrality of patronage for Philippine political parties, the most important powers of the president are his appointing powers and his control over the disbursement of government funds in a highly centralized form of government.”

The misuse of the power to appoint is most obvious, because appointments are so public and the appointees are rarely shy about waving about their new credentials. If anything, Erap only brings this power to absurd heights. Corazon Aquino used it to appoint relatives and friends, including her dentist and her dermatologist who were named to the UP Board of Regents. Aquino also got carried away with the appointments, sometimes naming as many as seven undersecretaries for one department that Congress eventually passed a law limiting the number of usecs and asecs to only three each per department.

Ramos was not more circumspect, appointing so many former military officers to crucial posts that he was criticized for militarizing the bureaucracy. He was also not above creating positions for favored friends, among them Justiniano “Bobby” Montano IV, for whom the post of deputy manager for special projects of the Public Estates Authority (PEA) was especially created. Montano would later play a prominent role in the Amari scandal, which involved billions of pesos in payoffs to various officials in connection with the sale of PEA property to a Thai real estate tycoon.

Estrada has essentially followed the same path, although this early, he has exceeded his predecessors in terms of the fancifulness of some of his appointments. He also has by far the widest range of presidential advisers and consultants, spanning every imaginable concern (a presidential consultant on fire protection, for example, and another one on APEC matters). Presidential aides say that sometimes Estrada just signs appointment papers thrust before him without much consideration of what they mean.

The worrisome thing is if Erap will be as haphazard in wielding presidential control over government finances. As Rocamora says, “Although Congress theoretically has the ‘power of the purse,’ the President’s line item veto and control over disbursement gives him much greater power than Congress. Congresspersons are adept at allocating to themselves large amounts of pork barrel...None of these amounts, however, can be availed of unless the President disburses them.”

Indeed, Ramos mastered the use of his veto and disbursing powers to get the laws he wanted passed by Congress. Ramos was, after all, a deliberate president with a clear vision and strategy. Estrada is cast in an altogether different mold. When queried in a press forum some months ago, he had trouble remembering his legislative agenda. The prospect clearly seems to be the whimsical disbursement of government funds, more so if Erap has trouble remembering where he put the people’s money.

There are other presidential powers worth mentioning, powers that Ramos used quite well, in terms of getting the cooperation of Congress and the business community as well as lining the pockets of favored friends. These include the power to approve government contracts of above P100 million if secured through public bidding and above P10 million if awarded through negotiations.

There is also the power to intervene in business disputes and to craft policies that favor some businesses and put others at a disadvantage. Certainly, Estrada has exercised this power in the case of Philippine Airlines and PLDT. As PLDT president Antonio ‘Tony Boy’ Cojuangco knows only too well by now, being in the good graces of Malacañang is crucial to maintain control over a lucrative monopoly. Like his predecessors, Estrada has used the powers of his office to put the squeeze on those who have fallen from grace and to favor his own friends. The phone call he made in November to PLDT director Alfonso Yuchengco, virtually ordering the latter to give up his claim to the Cojuangco shares in favor of First Pacific, is an example of the many powers that the president has which is not spelled out in the rulebooks.

While Ramos used these powers within the broader framework of economic liberalization and reform (even as he helped out his friends), Erap merely wields it for his buddies within the broader framework of, well, friendship and a sense of entitlement to the priveleges of public office. The resurrection of Estrada supporter Eduardo ‘Danding’ Cojuangco who is now once again the king of beer is certainly due in large part to the latter’s support for Estrada’s candidacy. And certainly, Lucio Tan need no longer worry about his P26-billion tax evasion case now that his pal is president.

In the book of quotations on Philippine politics, one of the most memorable is Senate President Jose Avelino’s response in 1949 to queries about the abuse of congressional prerogatives: “What are we in power for?”