This crisis started long before Ilocos Sur Gov. Luis "Chavit" Singson blew the whistle on his former bosom buddy last October. It started not long after Joseph "Erap" Estrada, 13th president of the Republic, was given power over 75 million Filipinos. In his first months in power, most people were willing to give him a chance, to let him use his immense popularity for the greater good. It’s hard to be president, Corazon Aquino cautioned his critics over and over again. But it didn’t take long before it became clear that Estrada considered this awesome gift, this tremendous power for positive change, not as a responsibility but a privilege.
Perhaps it was force of habit: since birth he has led a charmed life, growing up in a Spanish-speaking family, attending one of the most expensive schools in the country. Kicked out of school, he used his matinee-idol looks to become a movie superstar. In a nation where millions of people are so mired in poverty they prefer to live in a world of make-believe, Estrada’s screen image quickly became reality for his fans. He was the Robin Hood from the slums who vanquished all the bad guys, the macho man who loved women, a romantic rogue who made no secret of his vices.
This is fine for a Hall of Famer in the Famas acting awards. The presidency, however, demands only the best of those to whom it is given. Estrada, who vowed to deliver the greatest performance of his life when he took his oath in 1998, bombed miserably. There’s no need to go into detail about his nightly carousing, the Johnnie Walker Blue, the abusive cronies who spooked investors.
Do we want this man back, as his rabble-rousing political allies are demanding? Do we want the revival of a pampered police force, some of whose members stand formally accused of kidnapping and summary executions? Do we want the return of Charlie "Atong" Ang, Dante Tan, the mistresses fighting over the spoils, the relatives fixing textbook deals in the education department? Do we want a leader who is fully awake only after 3 p.m. And do we want the wheels of justice, now finally turning, to stop once again.
After answering these questions, we must ask ourselves what we plan to do about it without resorting to any form of violence. Even as the new administration struggles to put this ruined house in order, those who have had enough of public officials betraying the public trust must close ranks. A hundred days is too short a time to let down our guard.