Wasted opportunities

With his immense popularity, Joseph Estrada could have been a great president. He could have made the masses that adored him follow his lead, swallow bitter pills and accept drastic reforms.

He could have gone after the corrupt, and the masses would have pilloried whoever got caught in his net.

If he had truly given no special favors to anyone – neither relative nor friend, as he had promised in his inaugural speech about “walang kama-kamag-anak, walang kai-kaibigan” – he would have been great.

Erap wasted his opportunity for greatness, losing the presidency less than halfway through his six-year term.

His successor had a modest goal: to be a “good” president. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo made it clear she did not aspire for greatness.

Power – a gift of grace, a public trust – was handed to her on a silver platter. No Philippine leader has been as blessed.

At this point she has already become the longest-serving leader since Ferdinand Marcos – more than enough time to become a “good” president.

Yet hers is also a story of wasted opportunities. Instead of being described as a good person by people other than her children, the word “evil” will always be associated with her presidency.

She came to power on the wings of public disgust over corruption and the abuse of power during the Estrada administration.

When the seemingly unthinkable happened and Erap was convicted of plunder, he was promptly pardoned. What did that make of the reason for people power II, and more than six years of painstaking effort to secure his conviction?

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It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The forces behind EDSA II were ready to see Erap replaced with his constitutional successor because Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was perceived not only to be competent and hardworking but also clean – the antithesis of Joseph Estrada. The Church loved her; she was the only leader who seemed as devout as Corazon Aquino.

Insiders talk of two turning points in the life of the woman who wanted simply to be a good president.

The first was the death of her mother, the disciplinarian former first lady Eva Macapagal. Mrs. Macapagal set the bar high for her daughter; President Arroyo says she lacks empathy because of her upbringing. But it is said that the former first lady provided the moral compass in the family, the one who sent back expensive gifts received by her daughter with a dismissive, “We don’t need this.” Mike Arroyo, it is said, showed deference to the former first lady.

The second turning point, insiders say, was the “Hello, Garci” vote-rigging scandal in 2005. President Arroyo could no longer tell friend from foe. Eva Macapagal was gone, leaving the President to the counsel of the First Gentleman and other relatives.

At the height of the controversy, the President had to make compromises and incur debts of gratitude to people who would later demand huge interests.

Her great worry at the time, it is said, was that she would disgrace the memory of her father, President Diosdado Macapagal.

If public speculation is correct, the fallout from the vote-rigging scandal continues to be felt, spilling over into the aborted broadband deal between the government and ZTE Corp.

When Benjamin Abalos, who denies brokering the deal, asks plaintively why he supposedly can demand from Malacañang the approval of a $329-million contract that had nothing to do with elections, the vote-rigging scandal immediately comes to mind.

The tenure of the “good” president will be remembered in history for “Hello, Garci” and ZTE.

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But it’s not just Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo who has wasted opportunities to use the gift of power for the common good.

Filipinos have also wasted the opportunities opened by two people power revolts. We believe too much in miracles and are lazy to wield “people pawis” – the backbreaking, often unexciting effort to build a strong, functioning democracy.

There is no rule of law not only because public officials are corrupt, but also because we all want to enjoy some form of exemption from the law. We break traffic rules then bribe cops rather than get a traffic citation. We pay fixers in government agencies so we don’t have to wait in line. Investors look for influential brokers and offer fat commissions to win government contracts. Businessmen bribe Customs personnel to smuggle goods and have an unfair edge over the competition.

Though the first people power revolt, which culminated 22 years ago today, was fueled in part by anger over the results of the snap presidential election, we never cleaned up our electoral system.

And it’s the same antiquated system – the one that gave us Oplan Dagdag-Bawas, Virgilio Garcillano, Lintang Bedol and, yes, Benjamin Abalos – that will be used in the general elections in 2010.

Come May 2010, political rivals will still be slandering and murdering each other. Families will be split and businessmen will invest a fortune on the war chests of rival candidates to ensure that whichever side wins, family and business fortunes will be preserved.

The bureaucracy – and society in general – will still reward people based on who rather than what they know.

Occasionally there will be bureaucrats like Rodolfo Lozada Jr., tasked to determine permissible levels of corruption, sinners like all of us, who will be harassed and pushed against the wall by moronic bullies, forcing him to finally denounce immoderate greed even if it involves self-incrimination.

But unless their denunciations lead to long-term reforms, people like Lozada will just be footnotes in our long history of national dysfunction.

Eventually they will also be buried in the wasteland of our lost opportunities.