The Tale of Two Ferdinands
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Ferdinand Marcos, Sr. (right) swears in Ferdinand Marcos, Jr. as chairman of the board of the Philippine Communications Satellite Corporation in 1985 (Source: Twitter).
Ferdinand I won re-election at a time when the Philippine economy was experiencing significant problems. On the eve of the 1969 elections, trade was slowing down growth as revenues generated by the country’s prime commodity exports were offset by the rising costs of imports. Despite his liberalization of the economy (a policy that the Macapagal administration started and which Ferdinand I continued), foreign investors still worried about government corruption and inefficiency, such that at the beginning of 1969, their investments went down from US$20 million to US$8 million. American development assistance likewise declined from $190 million in 1968 to $144 million that year.
This happened not because of American dissatisfaction with Marcos’ presidency. It was more because the United States was undergoing its worst economic crisis since the Great Depression as the Vietnam War triggered a balance-of-payments crisis. Ferdinand I’s ability to deal with the economic crisis was repeatedly hampered by the opposition-controlled legislature, which refused to support his development programs. It also did not help that he nearly bankrupted state coffers when he ran for re-election in 1969. Or, as his rival Sergio Osmeña angrily declared, Marcos ran a state-funded $50 million-election tab to “out-gun, out-gold, and out-goon” him.
Ferdinand II is more fortunate. He inherits an economy whose prime commodity his predecessors -- from Gloria Arroyo to Rodrigo Duterte -- had nurtured and protected: the Filipino as cheap labor. Overseas Filipino workers remain the country’s principal beasts of burden, remitting $ 34.88 billion in 2021, up from $33.19 billion in 2020. The other source of income, the call centers, earned the country $26.7 billion in 2020, rising further to $27.4 billion in 2021. The sector’s revenues are expected to reach $29.1 billion by the end of 2022. Ferdinand II will also inherit a government which, according to Prof. Charmaine G. Ramos, saw “the highest level of social spending witnessed in the three decades beginning in 1986,” with “the 2017-2018 government social spending …at its highest level for 32 years both as part of public spending and percentage of GDP.”
Duterte’s critics warn of the dangers of a P12.73 trillion debt. In 2019, the government's debt to GDP ratio reflecting its ability to pay obligations was 39.6 percent. In 2020, it had jumped by 14.3 percent, reaching 58.1 percent by the end of 2021. As of March 2022, the total government debt had reached $233.2 million; 30 percent came from external sources, while 70 percent was from domestic borrowings. The political consequences of the potential catastrophes – if they ever happen -- will not be Duterte's concern anymore. Instead, it will be Ferdinand II’s. So far, however, the economy has been good to the country and the new president. It grew by 8.3 percent in the first quarter of 2022, up from 7.8 percent in the same period in 2021, and despite a negative 9.5 percent in 2020. Ferdinand II will inherit a government with $108.75 billion in reserves, up from $80.67 billion when Duterte started his presidency.
The political climate was not genial to the father when he began his second term. A still-powerful sugar bloc in Congress had stymied a planned export tax, forcing Ferdinand I to rely mainly on indirect taxation. Revelations of corruption inside government once again took up newspaper space, and while Ferdinand I fervently claimed that his foreign policy was dictated solely by the national interest and was not an extension of the United States’, he was unable to shake off the tag of “tuta ng mga Kano (U.S. lap dog).” Student radicalism was on the rise, inspired by the “re-establishment” of a communist party that vowed to wage a “people’s war” against the state and its landlord and imperialist masters. Anti-Marcos politicians and this new generation of communists worked in tandem to help build the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and the New People’s Army. This was an accusation that Ferdinand I leveled against his rivals, but no one believed him then, which was a sign of his declining legitimacy. In Moro Mindanao, a similar coalition was being forged by Moro student activists and anti-Marcos politicians to prepare for a war to separate Mindanao from the national body politic. Ferdinand I, however, turned these political drawbacks to his advantage, using the threats as the main justification for martial law.
An anti-Marcos rally at the old Legislative Building in the 1970s.
A Stable Political Climate
Ferdinand II faces no such challenges. His allies control both houses of Congress, and the opposition has a negligible presence in the political arena. The CPP is not the same force it was during the dictatorship, while the final chapter on Moro separatism has been written with the peace agreements signed by the Moro National Liberation Front (1996) and its more resilient rival, the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (2014). The coups and the mutinies of the past are now fading memories, and the AFP is at peace with current civilian supremacy (the potential offer of a senior state position upon retirement is too enticing for generals to turn down). Opposition icon Leni Robredo has the support of 15,035,773 Filipinos, but how to keep their reforming spirit alive is the more daunting challenge.
Ferdinand II thus assumes the presidency under a remarkably stable political system. It is far different from his father’s because it sits on top of several centers of local powers held by deeply entrenched political families, bosses, and strongmen/women in the provinces, cities, and towns outside the capital. Ferdinand I anchored his rule on a more centralized and interventionist state which eventually did him in; Ferdinand II is at home within a weak state.
Then there are the sharply different experiences of each generation. The country’s Baby Boomers are the first -- and only -- generation to have undergone the most intense political and economic roller coaster ride under Ferdinand I. Crisis and fluidity were the lifeblood of these martial law babies. As young adults they witnessed the foulness of Ferdinand I’s 1969 re-election, sympathized with or joined the street demonstrations of the First Quarter Storm; some went on to become the first cadres and fighters of the CPP, the MNLF and several social democratic clusters. It was an exceptional feat given they all did this in just half a decade They were college students when the economy experienced its first and only balance of payments surplus. Then, two to three years post-university, everything began to break down around them, starting with the collapse of the sugar industry and the famine in the western Visayas, followed by the capital flight caused in part by crony capitalism. Hastening the breakdown was Ferdinand I’s debilitating lupus erythematosus, Imelda’s twisted opulence, Benigno Aquino, Jr.’s assassination and the massive protests that it triggered. The Reform the Armed Forces Movement’s (RAM) failed coup and the People Power Revolution closed the curtains.
The instabilities did not end when Marcos was deported to Hawaii. The Baby Boomers protected the fragile democracy of President Corazon Aquino from military putschists, the CPP’s revival of its people’s war, and a broken-down economy. Stability would only gradually return under President Fidel V. Ramos, and they warmly welcomed his modernization plans, even if a substantial amount of the money from the sale of military lands disappeared into thin air. They despised the corruption of President Joseph E. Estrada but, together with the poor, handed him the most significant number of votes (47.7 percent) in 1988. They also voted for Mrs. Arroyo, seeing her as “the lesser evil” compared with Estrada. When Mrs. Arroyo went too far with her venality and thuggery, they voted for Benigno Aquino III, who promised to end corruption in government. The martial law generation’s political endurance ran out in 2016.
Young voters in San Juan, Philippines (Source: PNA)
The lives of millennials and the Gen-Z are antipodal to those of their grandparents. Of the 65.7 million voters in the last elections, more than half were between ages 18 and 41, which means that the oldest were born in 1981, the youngest in 2004. The former were toddlers when Ferdinand I was ousted from power, while the latter were children when Gloria Arroyo “won” the presidency. The millennials reached adolescence when a coalition of politicians, Church people (led by their bishops), the various shades of the Left, professional and business groups, and the Armed Forces of the Philippines’ general staff forced President Joseph Estrada to abdicate. There were likely the thousands of teens who regarded People Power II as a democratic act, but similar numbers could have joined “People Power 3,” the counter-protest in support of Estrada, which was brutally suppressed by police and military forces. Those who participated in People Power 3 (or “Poor People’s Power”) regarded the ouster of Estrada as a violation of the unwritten pact of 1986 that suffrage is the sacred mechanism for choosing the nation’s leaders.
From then on, the younger generations’ political exposure has been straightforward trapo (traditional politics). In their early teens, they most likely saw on television (or read in the national rags) the Senate investigation on the corruption behind the Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF) and the arrest of three senators implicated in the scandal. They would have also seen the government's impotence in demanding complete legal jurisdiction over an American marine who murdered a transgender Filipina, and the political charges and counter-charges between President Benigno Aquino III and congressional opponents over who was responsible for the power crisis. The government appeared incompetent in dealing with one tragedy after another – from the Zamboanga siege (2013) and Typhoon Yolanda (2013) to the Mamapasano massacre (2015) and Mainland China’s intrusions in the West Philippine Sea (2016).
“Ferdinand I was a self-made modern man whose life revolved around publicizing his accomplishments, including those he made up. Ferdinand II does not bother himself with demonstrating any intelligence, diplomas, or charisma.”
While the recurring economic crisis was what sustained anti-dictatorship politics, relative economic stability is what has sustained the prevailing contempt for both "the elite" (those associated with People Power II now retagged as the Dilawans [the Yellows]) and the traditional politicians. Ferdinand II's promise of a better future has resonated well with Filipinos whose optimism is fed by opportunities for overseas employment and work in business process outsourcing. While there is the top 10 percent undoubtedly still hogs the most significant portion of the national income, the share of the bottom 50 percent also has been growing incrementally with small surges that seem sustainable due to remittances to families or earnings by those employed in call centers. Membership in the middle class may not seem out of reach.
Desire for “stability” is what binds Filipinos today. Peasants yearn for stability amid a general decline in their livelihood with the failure of land reform, the state’s partiality to capitalist agriculture at the expense of subsistence farming, and disruptions arising from the wars in the countryside. OFWs and high earners in call centers want stability to secure their middle class status in a service sector-dominated economy whose fortunes are dictated entirely by the expansion and contraction of global markets. Finally, Filipinos generally seek some constancy in a political system that seamlessly fuses the legal with the illegal, and turns a blind eye to narcopolitics, except for extrajudicial killing sprees targeting the poor. When Filipinos voted for Ferdinand II, they seem to have wanted a respite from the rambunctious Duterte presidency and signaled a preference for some “normalcy.”
Our last comparison between the father and son. Ferdinand I was a probinsyano (hick) who joined a select group of high school students in the American colonial period who were admitted annually to the University of the Philippines (UP), the training ground for the “national leaders in the Philippines tomorrow and the day after.” Ferdinand I believed he was one such future leader. But he was not just any UP graduate. After completing his undergraduate degree, Ferdinand I entered the College of Law, one of the more prestigious units of the State University, which was the launching pad for the politically ambitious. He joined the Upsilon Sigma Phi, UP’s oldest fraternity, which bragged about how much it embodied the traditions of the State University. As Marcos’ labor secretary Blas Ople claimed: “The Upsilon was the UP, and the UP was the Upsilon.” Ferdinand I scored high in the 1939 bar examinations, a feat he supposedly accomplished while in jail for assassinating his father’s political rival. He may have faked the number of war medals he received, but there was no doubt that Ferdinand I fought in World War II. He would then use this purported intellectual acuity and military experience to launch his political career.
Junior’s record is nothing compared with his father’s. He grew up a city boy, residing in comfort in Manila’s wealthy districts, and then later the presidential palace. His academic credentials are pitifully anemic. In response to a journalist’s query, Oxford University wrote that he was “awarded a Special Diploma in Social Studies [which] was not a full graduate diploma.” Ferdinand II was commissioned as a second lieutenant of the Philippine Constabulary on November 25, 1978, after “passing” a six-month basic officer’s course (this would be the closest to a fraternity). But there was no field assignment – which was quite disappointing given that the AFP was still trying to defeat the MNLF and now had to contend with a fast-growing NPA. Here was that chance to claim his own Iginuhit ng Tadhana (Written by Destiny) moment; instead, 2nd Lt. Ferdinand Marcos was bundled off to the Palace to become one his father’s “special assistants” (but not the much coveted presidential aide-de-camp position).
The Marcoses before they fled the Philippines in 1986
The second time Ferdinand II wore a military uniform in public, he wanted to show everyone that he was battle-ready (and willing to die?) in February 1986, as his father’s rule was on the verge of collapsing. But his own encounter with destiny never happened; he fled with the family soon after rebel air force fighters bombed Malacañang. The scene was vividly captured in a picture while Ferdinand I was delivering a speech on the presidential veranda. Delfin Quiambao, a utility man who was among those recruited to be part of the pro-Marcos crowd in Malacañang, remembered that “Marcos called the loyalists and said he was going to give jobs [and] 100 pesos to those who would come to Malacañang. I just went there to eat. While he was saying it was good of us to come, someone announced that the food was already there. The 500 people who were there ran to where the food was, and nobody was left to listen to Marcos.”
Ferdinand II returned to school and was admitted to the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania despite not having an undergraduate degree, thanks to the Ferdinand I’s diplomatic entreaties and the help of the vice president of Caltex Petroleum. His record at the Ivy League school was, at best, spotty, and he never completed his MBA thesis, thereby – as with Oxford – failing to earn “a full graduate diploma.” Junior again lied about his academic record when he presented his political credentials to the nation. At least there is some consistency here. And at 64 years old, the son has no book to show, not even one ghost-written by mercenary academics and members of the literati. The website Goodreads lists 30 books purportedly written by his father.
Ferdinand II’s tenures as vice-governor (elected January 1980 while still studying at Wharton) and governor (elected 1983) of Dad’s home province of Ilocos Norte were both woeful. A former ally complained that “Noong gobernador si Bongbong, wala naman po siyang naibigay (He never gave [back to the people] anything when he was governor).” He was better as a senator, co-authoring 54 resolutions that became laws, including the Reproductive Health Law, the Cybercrime Prevention Law, and the Bangsamoro Basic Law. One can say this of Ferdinand II: He may share his parent’s authoritarian proclivities, but when it comes to women’s choice, same-sex marriage, and divorce, he is a social liberal.
Yet, he will not be judged by his social sympathies; he will always be compared with his Father. Ferdinand II must overcome the stigma of being the least politically interested (and interesting) among the children. Ferdinand I made sure that this point would be mentioned in his diary, writing that his son “is our principal worry. He is too carefree and lazy.” When Ferdinand II ran for Vice-President (2016), it was said that Mother Imelda and wife Louise Araneta-Marcos micro-managed his campaign. His May 2022 election campaign was closely scripted, and his handlers kept him away from debates and the crowd. In the movie Kingmaker, Lauren Greenfield immediately noticed both this carefree brattish attitude (“I can’t come home in coach. I’ve always flown first class”) and Mom’s tight control.
Ferdinand I was a self-made modern man whose life revolved around publicizing his accomplishments, including those he made up. Ferdinand II does not bother himself with demonstrating any intelligence, diplomas, or charisma. He is content with troll farms and a PR machine that turned him into a celebrity who trades on his father’s charisma and rides the wave of public nostalgia for the so-called Philippine “Golden Age.”
Patricio N. Abinales teaches at the Department of Asian Studies, University of Hawaii-Manoa. This is a slightly abridged version of the Afterword he wrote for the upcoming The Marcos Era: A Reader he co-edited with Leia Castañeda Anastacio, which will be published by Ateneo de Manila University Press.
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