A Case of Corruption at the Top Challenges Filipino Democracy

Fourteen years ago, Filipinos ousted dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos in a festive, three-day uprising that restored democracy in the Philippines and presaged the end of authoritarian regimes elsewhere in Asia. Democracy was an exhilarating experience. Citizens spoke out freely, the press pulled out all stops in its reporting and newly formed political parties slugged it out in the electoral arena.

But Filipinos soon realized that democracy did not necessarily bring about prosperity or good government. As the years passed, and the distractions offered by democratic politics lost their novelty, they found their hopes dashed by corruption, ineptness and a growing realization that the more things change, the more they remain the same.

When corruption is rife and the rule of law is erratic, at best, democracy reaches an impasse. Until nearly nine weeks ago, that seemed to be the case in the Philippines. The country lagged behind its Southeast Asian neighbors and was a textbook case of corruption and crony capitalism. At its helm was Joseph Estrada, a former popular movie star who won the presidency with an overwhelming mandate even if he was a self-confessed gambler and womanizer given to all-night drinking and eating binges.

Estrada surrounded himself with a coterie of cronies, many of them with links to the underworld of gambling, smuggling and other illicit trades. He gave favors and concessions to his businessmen friends, some of whom have been accused of large-scale tax evasion, insider trading and price manipulation at the stock exchange.

Riding high on his popularity, Estrada showed little appetite for the responsibilities of the presidency. While claiming that his government was committed to helping the poor, he kept four households in high style and indulged in marathon mah-jongg sessions, in which as much as $1 million was at stake in one night of gaming.

Yet, despite all that, Estrada remained popular with the masses. He spoke their language, made fun of the educated and wealthy and evoked his movie roles--that of an ordinary man who takes on the rich and powerful--in his re-creation of the presidency. For all his supposed lack of education (Estrada likes to boast that he is a college dropout), he has a very sophisticated understanding that in a modern democracy, image is more important than reality. He also knew that in a country where the rule of law is weak and institutions are compromised, popularly elected leaders can get away with much.

Until recently, it seemed that Estrada was right. After all, Filipinos, like citizens of other countries where corruption thrives, are no longer shocked or indignant when those they elect are corrupt. The thievery of public officials is nothing new; it’s only in the scale and the manner of theft that they differ. When faith in democratic institutions has been eroded, citizens become acquiescent: They know corruption exists, but there is nothing anyone can do about it.

Today, events in the Philippines are proving the cynics wrong. In the close to nine weeks since a former Estrada ally charged that the president had received some $10 million in bribes from illegal gambling, the streets of Manila have been the site of huge rallies by outraged citizens. The Catholic Church, the business community, labor unions, political parties and civic groups have joined a growing clamor demanding the president resign. The House of Representatives has voted to impeach Estrada and impeachment hearings are scheduled to start in the Senate on Dec. 7.

If Estrada resigns or if the Senate votes for his impeachment, he will be the first Asian head of state to be removed from office because of corruption. The current crisis is thus a test of the institutions of the Philippines’ still fragile democracy. The Senate, in which the president’s party has a majority, has to prove that it can conduct credible hearings against the most powerful official of the land. It will have to demonstrate the viability of constitutional processes for checking the excesses of a powerful executive.

If there are serious doubts about the conduct and outcome of the impeachment trial, the future of Philippine democracy will also be cast in serious doubt, and citizens will question the effectiveness of constitutional mechanisms for holding officials accountable for their actions. Marcos was ousted after the discovery of a failed coup attempt that set off a popular uprising. If Estrada resigns in the face of imminent impeachment or is forced out of office after being judged guilty during the impeachment trial, it would mark the first time in Philippine history that a head of state is ousted by constitutional means.

It would also be a powerful example to the rest of the region, particularly in countries where corruption and cronyism are rife. In the last few years, there have been increasing doubts as to whether political reform is possible within a democratic polity. The Asian economic crisis set off serious thinking about issues of governance, transparency and accountability.

In Thailand, the crisis has catalyzed constitutional and other reforms intended to check corruption and money politics. In Indonesia, the crisis precipitated the fall of President Suharto and brought about the establishment of a still tenuous democracy. Under Estrada, the Philippines, which was not as badly hit by the economic contagion as the rest of the region, blithely went on with life as usual. But the current political crisis, which is battering the economy and causing the peso to drop to all-time lows, is forcing a reexamination of the link between good governance and economic stability. Even before the present turmoil, fears of cronyism and an unpredictable business environment had already dampened investor confidence in the Philippines. With the charges against Estrada, the economy has been on a steady downward slide.

There is a sense of deja vu in all this. In 1986, a foundering economy and agitation on the streets forced the ouster of Marcos. Today, respected figures like former President Corazon Aquino and Catholic Archbishop Cardinal Jaime Sin, who helped lead the uprising against Marcos, are again out on the streets, this time calling for Estrada’s resignation. So are the middle class and the business community, who formed the bedrock of the 1986 uprising.

This time, though, the rules of the game are clearer. While there is a consensus that constitutional processes should be followed, there is also a realization that these processes will not work without the vigilance of citizens, who are out on the streets. The lesson from the Philippines is that democracy is hard work. The establishment of formal institutions is no guarantee. In the end, the burden is on the people. That is why democracy requires a bit of faith in the capacity of citizens for outrage and hope.