pcij.org

In This Issue
JAN - MAR 2000
VOL. VI   NO. 1


Looking for
past i articles?


  P U B L I C     E Y E   —   B O Y S   ' N   T H E   H O U S E


ROCAMORA is of the view that these young people are indeed progressive. The problem, he says, is that the general understanding of what is progressive is also in transition. To view them in class terms or the "semi-feudal, semi-colonial" framework would not allow them the progressive badge the same way that gauging them in terms of issues—charter change, human rights—would.

Colleagues in the legislature and allies in the Left see them as open liberals who are more democratic, pro-human rights and without fascistic tendencies. So long as they are sincere and do not resort to gimmickry and political grandstanding, like some Cabinet official's spray-painting tactics, Rosales says she is willing to lend them her full support.

Soto says the KPD can accept the fact that the Spice Boys are not thoroughgoing "anti-imperialists." But their opposition to liberalization, deregulation and privatization as policies of the Estrada government, she says, augurs well for continuing to nurture an honest-to-goodness healthy political relationship with them.

That these young representatives are suddenly exhibiting character traits vastly different from their predecessors would seem like a case of political mutation. The House, of course, is no stranger to progressive legislators. The likes of Boni Gillego, Gregorio Andolana, Edcel Lagman have come and gone, though Bobby Tañada is still there. Now, though, the presence of progressive elements has a bearing on the significantly altered composition of the Lower House.

An ongoing study of the 11th Congress by Julio Teehankee, a political science professor at the De La Salle University, cites the 1998 elections as a watershed in Philippine political development. It was as if an elixir for political rejuvenation had been discovered at that time that the many tired, old names have returned donning fresh, new faces. Thirty-four incumbent representatives—among them the Spice and Bright Boys—are elected surrogates of seasoned politicians, whose tenures had hit their constitutional limit. Banned from a fourth consecutive term, almost half of the 10th Congress members had offered their progeny as their logical replacements.

Their more progressive stance, Teehankee says, comes from the fact that these freshmen legislators come from a much younger generation. He notes that most of them did not experience first-hand the violence that their elders faced. Most of them were either educated abroad or in the cities, exposing them to a different worldview. Teehankee argues they probably think the ways of their forefathers are no longer suited to the times, and that they want to try something new.

Paradoxically, the phenomenon of fielding surrogates for the positions they vacated adds another dimension to the methods and strategies for elite reproduction, thereby preserving the old order. Teehankee says this only shows the resilience of the oligarchy in maintaining their dominance of congressional politics. The fact that a significant number of their relatives won in the elections points to the fingertip control that they continue to exercise over their local constituencies.

This sharp generational shift in the body politic could just be a case of politics trying to catch up with the economy and society, suggests Rocamora. Politics endured a black hole during the long period of martial law, sucking into its void two generations of political leaders in the process. After 1986, politics went back to its old frame, a competition between different fractions of the ruling class through elections.

Meanwhile, society and economy continued to move forward under globalization and eventually imposed requirements on the kind of politics to be exercised. Better educated than its elders, the younger generation has been more able to grasp these new developments in the country's socio-economic situation and have therefore primed them up for political positions.

But the cultural requirements of electoral politics still had to be fulfilled by traditional means. Elections being given to personalities and not issues, and characterized by the absence of programmatic political parties, therefore only fortify the undue advantage enjoyed by political clans, both old and new.

No one among the Spice Boys, gifted with a name besides privilege and pedigree, denies that they were helped one way or the other by being their forebears' descendants. Somehow, this has also sustained the enduring view of them as no different from their elders. Juan Miguel is the third son of ex-congressman Jose Maria Zubiri Jr. Rolando Andaya Jr. replaced his father, the older Rolando who was the longtime chairman of the powerful appropriations committee. Raoul del Mar took over the congressional seat of his father, Raul, in the 1st district of Cebu City.

Five of the administration's Bright Boys also were heirs to their parents' posts—Rodolfo Albano III, Francis Joseph Escudero, Joseph Felix Mari Durano, Jurdin Jesus Romualdo and Edmundo Reyes Jr. who replaced his mother, Carmencita, as representative of Marinduque.

As further proof of the hegemony of families in Philippine politics, the other members of the Spice Boys also have ties with politician relatives. Defensor has an aunt in the Senate (Miriam Defensor Santiago) and an uncle (Art Defensor) who is Iloilo governor. Barbers's political kin include his father (Senator Robert Barbers) and a brother (Robert Dean Barbers) who is a Makati city councilor. Sandoval's father Vicente is the incumbent congressman of the 1st district of Palawan. One of Pangasinan's six congressional districts is held by Braganza's cousin, Ranjit Shahani.

What is happening now is a hybrid of old and new politics, with the progressively minded youth being swept to political power by the traditional vehicles used by their elders. Whether this will eventually result in new politics is uncertain. What is apparent at this point is that the pull of the old has been more dominant.

It is possible that progressive posturings are being resorted to at the national level since these help build up an image for them, especially if they harbor dreams of national elective offices. Or the motivation can be the need to be noticed among the 200 or so faceless congressmen. Back in their legislative districts, they can afford to be as trapo as their parents, or remain hostage to trapo ways, because politics is run in the traditional mode.

Many of the Spice Boys confess to having a hard time dealing with the favors demanded by their constituents. Zubiri, for one, has been called kuripot (tightwad) for not being like his father, who was known for his generosity. Andaya has to make his constituents understand he can never bring the same projects to his district the way his father did, him being with the opposition.

The 2001 elections could offer a further glimpse into the dynamics of this tug-of-war between the old and new politics. By then, those who were banned by the constitutional provision on term limits can again run for office. Many of the incumbents are believed to be just "proxies" who will later relinquish their offices to their relatives.

The Spice Boys believe that politically, their own generation has already come to its own. But by committing themselves to serious advocacies, they may have placed their political careers on the line, when the pragmatic option would have been to merely coast along until the next elections. Backroom talks have it that Malacañang is already laying the groundwork for their defeat.

Still, for all their progressive convictions and youthful energies, the Spice Boys work within a political system that is not totally purged of the practices of their elders. What seems to be new politics, Teehankee warns, could in reality be just media spin on traditional politics. The sad thing is that they may just be as co-opted as anybody else.

Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved.
PHILIPPINE CENTER FOR INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM