Forgive and forget

It may be good to forgive and forget, but there is something depressing about the sight of the only son of Ninoy and Cory Aquino schmoozing with the people behind martial law.

Not too long ago, Cory Aquino was telling the people that we all knew who ordered the assassination of her husband. Today we are tempted to ask, well, who ordered it?

No mastermind has been identified and punished for the crime, or for the many human rights atrocities systematically committed during the dictatorship. No one is in prison for world-class corruption and ill-gotten wealth.

At the launch of the memoirs of Juan Ponce Enrile last week, President Aquino shook the hand of the other half of the conjugal dictatorship. Imelda Marcos’ formidable charm is legendary, and P-Noy surely was just being polite to an aging former first lady and congresswoman. But I’ve heard expressions of dismay from certain quarters already distressed by the nation’s failure to bring to justice those responsible for the abuses of the dictatorship.

Enrile deserves congratulations for his longevity and political durability. He made up for his role during martial law through his participation in the 1986 people power revolt. His popularity during the impeachment trial of Renato Corona is rubbing off on his only son, who seems poised to carry on the dynasty in the Republic of Cagayan.

But you look at Enrile and that crowd at his book launch, and you remember Alphonse Karr’s frequently quoted observation, that the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m not referring to the Senate president’s stem-celled looks, but to Philippine society.

At what point do people start forgetting and moving on? The South Africans are still grappling with the agony of apartheid. Earlier this year Brazil’s increasingly popular President Dilma Rousseff, tortured during her country’s military dictatorship, created a Truth Commission to look into decades-old crimes perpetrated by the military regime.

The South Koreans famously sent to prison two of their former presidents for high crimes, then pardoned and freed them. Today the daughter of the late military dictator Park Chung-hee is seeking the presidency. Park Geun-hye, the frontrunner until a few months ago, has seen her popularity whittled down by a non-politician, Ahn Cheol-soo, founder of the anti-virus software firm AhnLab and now dean of the Graduate School of Convergence Science and Technology at Seoul National University.

P-Noy, echoing his late mother, has said he wants reconciliation with justice. But with midterm elections approaching, he is clearly recognizing realpolitik and the enduring political clout of the Marcos clan in their vote-rich turf, the Ilocos Region.

Ferdinand Marcos’ only son and namesake is so fully rehabilitated socially and politically that he is seriously eyeing the presidency.

Truly, we and our government deserve each other.

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Today the 2013 race kicks off with the filing of certificates of candidacy. Politics is big business in this country, and the government is among the biggest employers.

You hold political power, you not only are assured of wealth, you also hold your constituency by its cojones. The local political kingpin decides which communities and sectors should get paved roads, clean water, farm support, schools and health centers.

The kingpin decides which job-generating investments are welcome – generally anything that will not threaten the businesses of his relatives and cronies.

You can tell how lucrative the business of politics is because anyone who gets a taste of political office, it seems, wants to stay there forever, despite the paltry salaries and benefits of public officials. Politics becomes a family enterprise, with political power passed on to the next generations like a birthright. Many family fortunes are built on political power.

Entertainers learn soon enough that before they are written off as has-beens, it’s a good career move to parlay their popularity into politics. Occasionally such moves are welcome; only entertainers can break the stranglehold of an entrenched political dynasty.

An expat, newly arrived in the country but who has already met several politicians in the course of his job, told me that underneath the democratic veneer, we have a feudal political system.

Filipinos have known this all along, but there is no will to change. There is attachment to the status quo, among both politicians and beneficiaries of their patronage.

Foreigners are among the biggest employers of Filipinos; about 10 million Pinoys – a tenth of the population – work overseas. The billions of dollars remitted by those workers prop up the economy and give the impression that nothing is broke so why fix it?

Politics can be empowering and a force for good. In our country, unfortunately for us, the typical politician empowers mainly himself, his family and cronies.

Empowering the masses through quality education and sustainable employment and livelihood programs can create an informed electorate that will demand more than dole-outs from elective officials.

Among the feudal lords, however, there is little enthusiasm for this type of empowerment. An informed electorate is bad news for politicians who derive their mass support from the undereducated and impoverished.

Several of the feudal lords were at Enrile’s book launch. From martial law to the present, they never really left.