Political dynasties are an evil institution

Many studies by political scientists on political dynasties in the Philippines have shown the harmful effects that these dynasties have had on the country’s democracy, such as concentrating power in the hands of a few, entrenching inequality, undermining democratic competitiveness, reducing accountability, prioritizing personal loyalty over competence, and promoting patronage politics and corruption.

One dimension of political dynasties that should perhaps be examined more closely is the moral dimension, the rightness or wrongness of these dynasties. Over a decade ago, current Makati mayor Nancy Binay, then running for senator, declared, “There’s nothing wrong with political dynasties. At the end of the day, it’s the people who vote.” Four years ago, then President Rodrigo Duterte defended political dynasties, saying that “dynasties are not bad,” the only problem being that some of them are involved in unlawful acts, such as the illegal drug trade.

Since Binay and Duterte belong to powerful political dynasties, their statements can well be viewed as self-serving. But now even former Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban echoes the same line, maintaining that political dynasties are “neutral” and “not evil per se, merely abused” and that there are “good” and “bad” (or “corrupt”) political dynasties. Instead of upholding the constitutional provision on prohibiting political dynasties, he seeks to remove the sting from it. For him, the challenge to Congress is not really to enact legislation to ban political dynasties, but rather “to define and regulate dynasties so these can be used only for good, not for evil.”

Some scholars propagate the idea of “good” and “bad” dynasties by citing Mancur Olson’s theory of “roving and stationary bandits.” They argue that while some dynastic politicians act like “roving bandits” by engaging in predatory activity at the expense of their constituents, others behave like “stationary bandits” by promoting economic development while also expanding their family’s wealth and power.

Political dynasties are evil. By their very nature, they negate the ethical and democratic principles of fairness and equality, transparency and accountability, objectivity and impartiality and are thus anathema to ethics and democracy.

Amid the spate of grand corruption scandals over the last few decades, however, what perhaps most starkly illustrates the evilness of political dynasties is the disintegration of the ethical principle of integrity — the quality of being honest and truthful and adhering firmly to strong moral and ethical norms and values.

With so many dynasts being implicated, indicted or sometimes convicted in major scams and nefarious transactions, political dynasties have become associated with corruption and plunder. In scandal after scandal, the same names or family names appear. Impunity, pure and simple.

The moral decay does not just reside in the corrupt politician. It spreads and contaminates the entire clan, including non-politicians. Through the corruption scandals that have broken out, when was the last time a whistleblower came forward from within a dynastic family?

The clan members know or they can find out for themselves, then speak out. But they lack the guts and moral fiber. They choose silence over truth. In times of scandal, they close ranks. They have to protect the brand name, because it is a key factor to the family’s wealth, power, prestige, and privilege. Damage to one is damage to all. As the main beneficiaries of a dynast’s corruption, the members of a dynastic clan revel in luxurious lifestyles and travel the world without ever revealing or questioning the source of their riches.

Dynast Senator Alan Cayetano articulately explains how corruption breeds new politicians: “[Let’s say that] 30-40 years from now, the grandson of [Janet] Napoles’ decides to run. He cannot be blamed for what his lola did. But his lola’s money that was stolen from you will be used for his campaign ads, for giving to the mayor, for giving to everyone.”

In times of scandal, the members of a dynastic family or clan maintain unity towards the public. Some come to the defense of the tainted member even in the face of irrefutable evidence. But others just try to avoid the topic. When conversations in social gatherings touch on the scandal, they remain silent or change the subject. When asked, they utter such niceties as “respect for due process” or “let the courts decide.”

As the PDAF pork barrel scam has shown, many of the dynasts implicated, indicted, or even convicted in a corruption scandal, try to “rehabilitate” and re-legitimize themselves by running again for public office. The dynast’s relatives often still give them full backing. If the dynast is much too dirtied, another family member runs instead — to ensure the dynasty’s continuity. After skipping an election, the tainted dynast attempts a comeback. Delicadeza* is a word that has long been expunged from the vocabulary of political dynasties.

In times of scandal, when a member is tainted, the silence of the dynastic family is deafening. Integrity disintegrates. The silence epitomizes the moral rot that has devoured entire dynastic clans.

There are certainly some good politicians within political dynasties, but they are the exceptions. They know that they have been born into a world of wealth, power, and privilege. They too want an end to the iniquities of political dynasties. But one has to view beyond individual dynasts and examine the institution as a whole.

Political dynasties have become institutionalized in the Philippines — so terribly, in fact, that nowadays, after a non-dynasty politician wins an election, he starts building a political dynasty. The Philippines has become, as the late Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago put it, “the world capital of political dynasties.”

Political dynasties carry on the tradition of absolute monarchy and aristocracy — institutions that enshrined the concentration of wealth, power, privilege, and entitlement to a few, and worse, not on the basis of merit or capability but on bloodline. There were good and bad kings, queens and aristocrats, but on the whole, the institutions of absolute monarchy and aristocracy oppressed, immiserated, and repressed millions of the working masses through centuries.

There were thousands of revolts against these extractive and evil institutions. The American and French Revolutions put an end to them once and for all in the US and France. In democratic countries, there are no absolute monarchs, no aristocrats anymore. Precisely because political dynasties are in the tradition of absolute monarchy and aristocracy, democracies have sought institutional safeguards against political dynasties as well, integrated in constitutions, in political party and electoral systems, or other institutions.

In weak democracies and even some established ones, political dynasties have persisted or even thrived. Free and fair elections have been compromised or even undermined by patronage, vote-buying, and media and social media manipulation. In the Philippines, dynasts have particularly taken advantage of that patronage tool known as “name recall.”

The argument of the “good dynast” or the good “stationary bandit” merely serves as an excuse for preserving or even strengthening an extractive and evil institution. Perhaps it would do well to review the fall of the ancien regime in France. The French Revolution of 1789 mainly targeted and did away with the institutions of absolute monarchy and aristocracy and it did not distinguish much among members of the ruling elite. The guillotine chopped off the heads of both “bad” and “good” members of the royal family and the aristocracy.

Fortunately, we live in much more modern times. To do away with the evil institution of political dynasties, a law banning them can be enacted, and this can be buttressed by reforms in the electoral and political party systems and other spheres.

* Delicadeza — a strict sense of propriety, moral integrity, and refinement in actions.

Nathan Gilbert Quimpo is the author of Contested Democracy and the Left in the Philippines after Marcos and co-author of Subversive Lives: A Family Memoir of the Marcos Years.