Intriguing stories about him abounded:
He was the man from Lanao del Norte who made even the dead vote, who produced more votes in his bailiwick for Ferdinand Marcos than there were registered voters, and wanted to know if Marcos wanted more.
He was the passionate man with a heavy crush on the redoubtable Haydee Yorac, now chief of the Presidential Commission on Good Government.
Such stories, most of them apocryphal, made us laugh the first time we heard them; they made us laugh again in their recounting as reports spread of Dimaporo’s death the other day.
Yet despite the amusement factor, he was also feared. Dimaporo emerged as the political kingpin in a region where might makes right, in a province that was a hotbed of Muslim rebellion.
His image was of a vassal so loyal to his liege he was ready to steal and commit murder for the glory of Ferdinand Marcos. The strongman dispensed political favors on Dimaporo, and the warlord showed his gratitude, even if it meant antagonizing his fellow Muslims.
There are those who saw in Dimaporo patronage politics at its worst. There are those who wish his demise heralds the passing of a backward era in Philippine politics. Yet this is not to be. There are still many warlords out there — not as colorful or entertaining as Ali Dimaporo, but just as adept in cultivating patronage to build a political power base. And there appears to be no change in sight for this state of affairs in Philippine politics.
I guess no one bothered to question the authenticity of information Dimaporo gave in his certificates of candidacy, or else a persistent rival might have had him permanently barred from holding public office. At least Fernando Poe Jr. has a birth certificate and there’s no question about his birthplace or his age.
There are many other Filipinos without birth records in this country. The people of Lanao del Norte don’t seem to care much about such niceties: they have not only voted for Dimaporo in the past, but have also sent Dimaporo’s son Abdullah to the House of Representatives. Abdullah’s wife Imelda is governor of Lanao del Norte; a cousin, Motalib Dimaporo, is town mayor of Sultan Naga Dimaporo. All over this province, there’s a Dimaporo here, a Dimaporo there.
Not that this is rare in this country. Even in Metro Manila, political clans want a stranglehold on power, making wives succeed their husbands to city hall or Congress, to be followed by their children.
The clans can always say that it’s a free country. If people want their family to continue its reign in a particular city, what can the clan do except answer the clamor of the people, the call of public service?
In our unique democracy, however, the clans that are in power use their positions for the guns, goons and gold that are often employed to win elections.
Favors are given or promised in exchange for support in elections. The patronage goes all the way down to the grass roots, to the barangay officials who promise neighbors the moon – or at least more artesian wells – if they vote for a particular candidate. There are voters who have wised up to OPM or "oh promise me," demanding cash up front or they’ll go for a candidate with a bigger war chest. And who normally has the biggest war chests? Incumbent officials, of course, who consider public funds part of their private assets.
When all else fails, the goons can be unleashed, threatening torture and mutilation for uncooperative voters. And who normally has the biggest and best-equipped private armies? Again, those who are already in power.
It must be emphasized that not all Filipinos frown on politicians’ private armies. There are Filipinos who like "Dirty Harry" types, if their strong-arm tactics can keep communities safe and peaceful. This was one reason for the long reign of Juanito Remulla as governor of Cavite. This helped make Rodrigo Duterte mayor of Davao City.
In certain parts of the country, especially lawless areas, a gun — and the readiness to use it on enemies or troublemakers — elicits respect. Naturally, the greater the firepower, the greater the respect. In every electoral exercise in this country, the gun ban has always been a joke.
Ali Dimaporo also studied law in the University of the Philippines, at around the same time that Ferdinand Marcos was a law student in the same school. During martial law, Marcos named Dimaporo president of the Mindanao State University.
In a country where someone always seems to be trying to put one over you, people like public officials who can rein in crooks and get things done for the greater good. Whether public officials accomplish this at gunpoint, through patronage or by going around the law is often immaterial. Voters look for results. If they’re happy, they don’t mind electing and re-electing warlords, then electing and re-electing the warlord’s wife, children, in-laws.
Reports said Muslim communities in Mindanao deeply mourned the passing of Mohammad Ali Dimaporo. Of course they did.