How the leopard kept its spots

That famous quote, “If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change,” which comes from Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel “The Leopard” (Il Gattopardo), was spoken by the character Tancredi Falconeri to his uncle, the Prince, as a cynical observation on how the Sicilian aristocracy adapted (or pretended to adapt) to Italy’s unification to preserve their power by making superficial changes. It’s a core theme about preserving the status quo through strategic, minor transformations, highlighting political opportunism and resistance to real progress, and relevant here, for us.

Three things are a sign of what’s in store. The first is the Marcos Jr. administration—the President’s—governing philosophy, which can be summed up as the avoidance of emotion. The second is Vice President Sara Duterte’s inability to confront the charges raised against her. The third is how the political class seems to feel the worst is over, and business as usual is back.

The avoidance of emotion seems to me a core concept in understanding the President: he has consistently shown a marked aversion to public drama, including the usual virtue-signaling and posturing that passes for leadership in our system. I think this is tied to the past, the inability of the late President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. to come to grips with the performative martyrdom that was the parliament of the streets. Anything that ramps up the public temperature, which then gives an opening for enemies to exalt their opposition, is to be avoided.

Instead, the President prefers to marshal the inherent strengths and advantages of incumbency while denying a forum for weaker foes to burnish their credentials. But avoiding drama and using a steamroller to decide things disappoints everyone, starting with the public. Where it sees a disinclination to confrontation, a refusal to engage in mano a mano, “datu-to-datu” duels, and thus, the absence of the “sabong,” which our entire political culture is oriented to expect and even demand, public, media, and politicos scratch their heads and decide it’s a do-nothing know-nothing presidency. But that ignores that possession—of office and power—is nine-tenths of the law.

The Vice President, for all her bluster, on the other hand, replied to the charges by ignoring the accusations and focusing on technicalities, which reveals (as does her far-from-impressive legal team) a frank inability to confront the charges. While the leader of the National Unity Party recently made noises about being dissatisfied with the Speaker and thus considering joining the minority, which is like banging on a tambourine to the tune of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” sure enough, eventually the idea was dropped.

But it also tells us the political class has lost its fear and returned to business-as-usual in the midst of a looming oil crisis (or, to be precise, because we are in the midst of a crisis where the last institution standing is the government, because it can print money on demand, even as the private sector withers away and everyone has no other option but to look to the state for relief).

Committed ideologues like the academic Julio Teehankee expressed concern that Congress was approaching its recess without definitive action on the antidynasty bill. They tried to sound the alarm, but the public was mesmerized by gas prices. If it passes at all, one congressman pointed out that 5,000 will lose their posts—a small price. It’s half of what civil society wanted

I can only call it a hunch, but it seems to me the problem of civil society is that Congress and the political class as a whole has overcome its near-panic over “floodgate,” where public anger seemed wider and deeper than it has been in a long, long time. That, on one hand, an antidynasty bill was under serious consideration, and that the House was actually considering what it had spent 40 years ignoring–the idea of a constitutional convention—showed how real the fear was. Not least because the fight, as it turned out, was focused on just one topic.

We’d do well to remember Randy David’s assertion that dynasties are a symptom but not the actual disease. Put another way—David’s way—the real problem is one of competition, as he wrote in 2007: “The proliferation of political dynasties is itself only a symptom of a bigger malaise—the absence of any real political competition in our society. If you just treat the symptoms—for example, imposing term limits and banning political dynasties—the disease will likely manifest itself in other forms. For now, the political family is the carrier of the virus. In the future, it could be the corporate mafia, or the religious cult.”

The proposal for dynastic regulation would be of limited worth unless accompanied by two other reforms: campaign finance reform and a reform of the party list system. Finance reform is a topic where the public and the politicians might agree, while, after being mentioned, party list reform vanished, perhaps out of the misguided assumption that it would be accomplished by a strict antidynasty law. Having put all its eggs in one basket, what is the cause of reform to do if none of its chickens hatch?