What’s there in the Philippine presidency that makes it a hotly contested position?

P6 billion bet for P60,000 prize

by Roly E. Eclevia

If you’re wondering why corruption is so prevalent in the government look to the country’s electoral process for the answer.

According to political analysts the winning candidate for the presidency, incumbent President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, spent as much as P6 billion in the runup to the May 10 elections. On the other hand, actor Fernando Poe Jr., threw away half of that amount.

In 1992, Fidel V. Ramos and his allies disbursed something like P2 billion to ensure his victory. Six years later, when Joseph Estrada sought the highest office of the land, his supporters forked over P4 billion for the purpose. ‘Tis said the actor-turned-politician received much more in contributions, but he was so popular with the masses that he thought he could keep a large part of the war chest without jeopardizing his chances of winning, and that was exactly what he did. He was right.

Why all that money? First off, the party standard bearer needs to buy airtime and advertising space for himself, the vice-presidential candidate, and the entire senatorial lineup and, of course, to get those posters plastered all over the islands. But that’s nothing compared to the outright dole-out demanded by candidates at the local level--candidates for congressmen, governors, and mayors. It is these politicians who must feed and pay off people during the campaign period and herd them to the polling precincts on election day.

The amount each candidate receives does not include cuts already made from government contracts, estimated to be as much as 30 percent of the total cost. Of course, only incumbent government officials enjoy that advantage. Their rivals to the posts just have to find solace in the thought that they too will have their turn at the trough someday.

There is a nice piece of legislation on election spending, but it is more honored in the breach than in the observance. The statute provides that a presidential candidate may spend three pesos for every voter. If you multiply that by 35 million, the number of registered voters, you come up with . . . , go figure it out.

For remuneration the president can expect P60,000 a month or P432 million for the single six-year term limit. The constitution bars a president from reelection. Mrs. Macapagal-Arroyo’s case is different. She was elected vice-president. Only upon the ouster of the elected president did she assume the office.

The president does not pay any rent to stay in the palace, it is true. Nor does he scrounge around like the rest of us to pay the bills, or buy the groceries, or amortize the family car. The state shoulders everything including entertainment, which could add up to a pretty sum if the president, as the previous one showed, happens to have a taste for pretty women and expensive wines.

Still the perks do not come anywhere near the great fortune required in the 90-day campaign period. One can only eat and drink so much, after all. As for concupiscence, well, even a satyr has his limitations.

Why would anybody spend so much for a position that pays so little? The candidate does not spend his own money, of course. But if you insist on an answer, he will tell you he is motivated by something higher than profit like, uhm, service to the people.

The national experience does not bear that out.

During his 20-year rule, Ferdinand Marcos repatriated billions of dollars in government loan proceeds to Swiss banks, under layers of dummies and numbered accounts. In a successful bid to stifle all opposition and hide the crime, he disbanded the legislature, closed down media outlets, and and sic-ed the military and the police on the people.

Estrada, it turned out, was as voracious but not as clever or imaginative. Like the small-town mayor that he had been, he could only commit outright thievery, if the charges for which he has been detained without bail are true. If there was something he understood it was the need to systematize collection in the illegal numbers game or jueteng, and he proceeded to do just that, this time with the whole country as his turf. He used the earnings to build palatial homes for his mistresses.

The candidate relies on contributions from businessmen, who shell out tens of millions of pesos each.

Here the assumption is that since the money the candidate throws away is not his there is no compulsion on his part to recoup it when he is elected. Things don’t work out that way, unfortunately. A politician with larceny in his heart will rob the country blind once he is in a position of power, and it doesn’t matter how he gets there.

What sort of businessmen would risk millions in such a, well, speculative venture? Obviously drug lords and smugglers. Also, big-time tax evaders, current or prospective BIR and Customs officials, even shabu manufacturers and distributors. These people don’t give away money out of the goodness of their heart. They consider it as an investment.

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