A politics of the personal

Dr. Melba Maggay

I must confess I am one of those who felt that the attempt at a

reprise of the People Power saga, this time a signature campaign for
the designated heir of the Aquino legacy, Senator Noynoy Aquino,
was a throwback to some old diseases of the traditional electoral
system – personalism and the predilection to fall back on tired
political symbols.

But seeing on television the announcement of Noynoy’s

candidacy, I was unaccountably moved to tears. It could not be
accounted, I think, to the resurfacing of the color yellow and all the
memories of what that meant for those of us who risked our lives at
the EDSA barricades more than two decades ago. It has more to do, I
guess, with the sense that once again, in the face of the degradation
of this nation to its lowest levels of moral and institutional declension
under the Arroyo regime, high and low alike are closing ranks and
showing that there is in our citizenry a deep wellspring of decency,
honor and love of country that may yet bring us to a new phase in our
quest for a governance that truly serves the people.

What accounts for this resurgence of hope? Let me mention just

two.

One is the growing language of “sacrifice.” Senator Mar Roxas

led the way, followed by Pampanga Governor Ed Panlilio, and now
Kiko Pangilinan who has indicated willingness to bow out of the vice
presidential race if Roxas ends up as the Liberal Party candidate for
the post. Roxas’ withdrawal in favor of Aquino’s bid for the
presidency was, for once, a truly classy act for a member of one of
the country’s longstanding political and social elites. This is a
promising sign, not only for the future of the party, but for the
resurrection of party discipline and the rise of a breed of politicians
who are able to set aside personal ambition for the sake of the
country.

The other, more important element is the almost quixotic

persistence of hope among ordinary people that their small acts of
political conviction will bear fruit. Once again, behind the star players
is the visibility of spontaneous popular support.

“People power” had been hijacked by various elite interests and put
to opportunistic uses since it emerged as a tool for expressing
political disfavor. But it needs to be recognized that its origins are
genuinely sourced from the depths of the culture, an authentic
expression of what our people are. Warmly emotional and
empathetic, we are moved, not so much by ideology or ideas, but by
people, particularly by those who evoke our sense of solidarity. We
are not roused by platforms nor by some abstract political principle,
but by a shared sense of injustice and victimization. This is because
at the core of the culture is this sense of shared identity, and it
particularly surfaces when we feel a collective injury, whether it be for
the likes of Flor Contemplacion or Ninoy.

It is not an accident that the people’s slogan for the murdered Ninoy
was “Hindi Ka Nag-iisa.” Or that his frail, simple widow in yellow
should rise to become a symbol of a people’s long suppressed
protest against strongman rule. I suspect that the massive outpouring
of grief on the occasion of her death bore a similar message: the
people were mourning the loss, not just of a well-loved political saint,
but of the hopes for a forlorn democracy that she helped establish
and symbolized. What people call “Cory magic” is really the fact that
she happens to have become what sociologists call a “habitus” of a
people’s longings for a decent government. Then as now, she was a
foil to a corrupt regime; in showing up for her funeral, the people were
making a statement on what this current administration is not.

That our people locate their hopes, not so much in a system but in a
person they can trust, is sound. We have all the necessary
“hardware” of structures in place -a system of checks and balances,
formal separation of powers, even a Constitution that prohibits
political dynasties. The trouble is without the subjective “software” of
values and norms that will make these structures operative, they will
continue to serve merely as apparatus for advancing the interests of
those in power. You can not have a modern bureaucracy where
everyone is treated fairly without the values that make strict rule-
keeping possible.

But strictly speaking, what we are witnessing is not the politics

of personalism but the power of the personal. People are not drawn
to Noynoy because of personal charisma, as with the case of Joseph
Estrada. Like Cory who was seen as a mere housewife, he is not, at
this juncture, considered experienced nor competent enough. He is
not even visually appealing.

But Noynoy has something that is of utmost importance: a

legacy that people can trust. As a vendor puts it, “Kahit paano, ‘yang
mga Aquino, di yan nagnanakaw.” The man himself seems to have a
simplicity that the sophisticated among us may find lacking in the
usual flair and gravitas that catapults leaders to power. But perhaps,
for this very reason, he may yet connect with those whose major
concern is not pizzazz but that the country will not be robbed blind
again.

Social trust, like social capital, is one of those intangibles that oil
the machinery of governance and just about everything that requires
confidence. Businessmen who belong to the Davos crowd do not
invest nor do business in a country where the rules are slippery and
unofficial saliva substitutes for firm and straightforward contracts. A
major task of leadership is the capacity to inspire faith in the integrity
and efficacy of its institutions. Societies fail when the trust level is so
low that people can not even take the word of their leaders seriously,
much less begin to cooperate and build things together.

Certainly, there are other, more complex requirements for

governance. But this is where we begin, in our cultural and social
givens. Sociologists talk of “plausibility structures”; well, prescribing
impersonal rationalities of governance in a context where people put
a premium on the personal is implausible. And I do not think that
modern governance as it has developed in the West is necessarily
superior, or even what we need. Our systems dysfunction precisely
because there is no culture-fit with how things actually work around
here.

And anyway, the instincts of our people are right: power lends itself to
most constructive use when it is in the hands of those who are most
disinterested in its use.

There is nothing wrong with our culture nor with the expectations of
our people. What is wrong is that our leaders continually betray them
and their hopes.

----- Melba Padilla Maggay, Ph.D.

Institute for Studies in Asian Church and Culture

Dr. Melba Padilla Maggay is a social anthropologist and

President of the Institute for Studies in Asian Church and Culture, a
31-year old research and training organization engaged in
development, missiology and cross-cultural studies aimed at social
transformation.