The Pendulum of PH Politics

When Ferdinand Marcos Jr. clinched the Philippine presidency in 2022, history seemed to echo eerily through the corridors of Malacañang. For a nation often accused of “historical amnesia,” this was less a shock and more a resigned shrug—an acknowledgment of the cyclical nature of Philippine politics, where power is passed not through ideological evolution but familial restoration.

Was it not only 37 years ago that millions of Filipinos flooded EDSA’s asphalt stage, toppling the Marcos dictatorship in what has since become a textbook case of “People Power”? Yet, as with many revolutionary triumphs, the promises of EDSA dissipated in the hands of its inheritors.

How did we get here?

To understand the Philippines’ current political trajectory is to dive into a peculiar blend of cultural values, historical burdens, and socio-economic realities. It is a tale of democracy tested, of a people resilient yet weary, of a nation shaped by its colonial past and trapped by its unchanging elite.

History as Prologue

The 1986 People Power Revolution was not just a moment of liberation; it was a proclamation that ordinary citizens could wrest power from an autocrat. But democracy, it turns out, is far messier than dictatorship. While the Marcos regime consolidated power through crony capitalism and authoritarian rule, post-EDSA administrations struggled to deliver broad-based development and equitable governance.

The presidency of Cory Aquino, hailed as the mother of democracy, was beset by coup attempts and an enduring feudal mindset. Subsequent administrations, from Fidel Ramos’ economic reforms to Joseph Estrada’s populism, seemed more like experiments than cohesive blueprints. The cycle continued with Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s technocratic but corruption-laden leadership, Noynoy Aquino’s reformist but detached tenure, and Rodrigo Duterte’s volatile populism. Each leader was a reaction to the last, a pendulum swinging between hope and disillusionment.

Enter the return of the Marcoses. Their comeback was a masterclass in political rebranding and alliance-building. Beginning its rise through a decades-long sanitation job of their family name, sustaining its swell with an evocation of nostalgia based on a carefully curated narrative of economic progress during Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s rule, and ending with the crushing tidal wave of the 2022 national elections. To a younger generation inundated with TikTok videos romanticizing the “Golden Age” of the Philippines, the sins of martial law were footnotes in a history class they were taught to question.

A Culture of Forgiveness and Forgetting

We Pinoys are known for our warmth, hospitality, and perhaps most tellingly, our capacity for forgiveness. This cultural trait, shaped by centuries of colonial subjugation and Catholic guilt, finds its way into our politics. Dictators are remembered as disciplinarians, and corrupt officials are re-elected with little regard for accountability.

This is not to say Filipinos are passive; far from it. From the 1896 Revolution against Spanish rule to the ousting of Estrada in 2001 through People Power II, the Filipino capacity for collective action is formidable. Yet, our culture of familial loyalty often undermines this. Political dynasties dominate our democracy, perpetuating inequality and patronage politics. A staggering 70% of elected officials come from dynastic families, ensuring that power—and its abuses—remain a family affair.

The Pendulum Swings

In the past two decades, several key events have shaped Filipinos’ political psyche. The 2000 impeachment trial and eventual ousting of Estrada through People Power II marked the fragility of public trust in institutions. The sense of renewal inspired by his successor in Macapagal-Arroyo was short-lived, as she and her administration also fell out of favor. This distrust was further punctuated by the 2009 Maguindanao massacre, which reminded of the deadly grip of warlordism – and how familial rule and violence continue to prevail in our politics – both strong deterrents against true grassroots reform.

A second Aquino presidency promoted a clean government, anchored on sound economic fundamentals on the heels of a global recession, only to be sentenced to political death as it failed to respond adequately to its growing unpopularity. Duterte’s war on drugs, which claimed thousands of lives, revealed the depth of public anger toward crime and inequality—but also the consequences of authoritarian tendencies. Today, elements of the PBBM administration use their power and influence to discredit the Duterte brand. The pendulum continues to swing.

The story of Philippine politics is one of contradictions. It is a democracy shackled by its oligarchs, a land rich in natural and human resources yet mired in poverty. We are a nation that remembers the taste of freedom but often forgets the cost of losing it.

For the global audience, the Philippines offers a cautionary tale about the fragility of democracy. It is a reminder that revolutions are not endpoints but beginnings, requiring vigilance and sustained effort to bear fruit. Most of all, it is an invitation to understand that history is not a linear march toward progress but a spiral—always turning, always repeating, unless we choose to break free.

As the pendulum swings yet again, Filipinos are left to grapple with an unsettling question: Will we continue to oscillate between hope and despair, or will we finally find the courage to chart a new path?