An Uncanny Union: How Duterte’s Presidency is Setting Up the Return of Marcos’ Empire
Yanan Melo, Institute for Studies in Asian Church and Culture (ISACC)
On September 29, 1989, the ousted Filipino dictator Ferdinand Marcos died in exile. After 21 years of ruling the Philippines with an iron fist—a dictatorship marked by bloodshed and countless amounts of human rights atrocities—Mr. Marcos’ body was banned from returning to the Philippines and from receiving a soldier’s burial. Thus, for almost 30 years, Marcos’ remains were kept in Ilocos Norte, hidden in a glass case, awaiting the time to be buried as a hero if it ever even came.[1]
But on May 27, 2016, the world changed for the Marcos family as Davao mayor Rodrigo Duterte was elected to fill the highest seat in the country and become president.[2] During his highly controversial campaign, Duterte promised to give Marcos’ remains a soldier’s burial at the Libingan Ng Mga Bayani (Heroes’ Cemetery).[3] Sure enough, only a few months after the election, Marcos’ body was buried in Libingan Ng Mga Bayani.[4]
This seeming act of generosity to the Marcoses only built stronger ties and alliances between the Dutertes and Marcoses. Indeed, setting his eyes on the upcoming May 9 election, Ferdinand Marcos Jr., known locally as “Bongbong,” has declared his desire to succeed Duterte and run for president.[5] Just as the Marcos family bankrolled Duterte’s candidacy in 2016, Duterte and his daughter Sara are now expressing public support for Bongbong’s presidential campaign, with Sara Duterte considered his “de facto running mate.”[6]
This is an uncanny union. We are witnessing a marriage between two political dynasties whose track records only highlight the voices of the abused and marginalized under their regimes. Still today, many Filipinos continue to protest the candidacy of Bongbong,[7] whom some argue Duterte has been grooming to be his rightful heir.[8] And all because Duterte himself has openly declared his love and respect for Bongbong’s father, Ferdinand Marcos Sr., calling him “the brightest among the past presidents.”[9]
But who was Ferdinand Marcos?
Marcos’ résumé was stacked. Not only was he president for over two decades, but he also practiced as a trial lawyer in Manila and as an officer in the army during World War II. He eventually entered the world of politics as a technical assistant to Manuel Roxas’ administration, the first president of the independent Philippine republic. Through it, Marcos established his name as a rising force within the political arena. He was then elected president after an “expensive and bitter campaign” on December 30, 1965. He remained president for the next two decades, which was unforeseen for many Filipinos during that time.[10]
During the first few years of his presidency, Marcos revived a post-World War II economy. He provided new opportunities for many Filipinos to begin anew. Filipinos saw progress, particularly in agriculture, industry, education, and commerce, leading to his re-election in 1969.[11] Thinking that the sun would never set on the Marcos presidency, the late president seemed to promise a bright future for the Philippines, one filled with hope and optimism—progress and development—under his fathering hands.
But as the proverb goes, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
On the evening of September 23, 1972, the president became a dictator. Upon signing Proclamation 1081, Marcos declared the era of Martial Law in Philippine history, which many have called a “dark chapter” in the Filipino story.[12]
During this dark period, countless people died as real human minds, bodies, and souls were tortured, abused, and victimized to bolster Marcos’ imperial hold. Citing communist insurrectionists as the reason for declaring Martial Law, Marcos’ power only grew indomitable.
There was no escaping Marcos’ hunger for absolute power and control. Juan Ponce Enrile, who helped Marcos devise his empire, described in a BBC interview, “Anybody who goes against the government or who tries to convince people to go against the government” was to be charged with subversion. This was a very general and unspecific definition of the word “subversion” that allowed the military and police to subjugate anybody who seemed to go against the word and authority of Ferdinand Marcos.[13]
For many victims of Martial Law, there seemed to be no hope on the horizon. Fr. Amado Picardal, a political prisoner, once prayed to God through feeble lips within the darkness of his prison cell:
Lord, deliver us from these kidnappers and murderers
who try to maintain peace and order.
Deliver us from these mercenaries
whose obsession is to defend national security
the security of this bloodthirsty
and power hungry dictator,
the security of his cronies and their
big business interests,
the security of his alien lords
and their bases and investments.[14]
Through his poetry, we can see glimpses of the sorrows he experienced. Grounded firmly in his Christian faith, he wrestles with the tension between Marcos’ imperial conquest and God’s desire to heal and restore the Filipino people.
For many prisoners and victims of Martial Law like Fr. Amado, Ferdinand Marcos stood against God despite the veneer of his religiosity. Instead of following Jesus’ example to care dearly for the “little ones” among us (Matt. 18:10), 3,257 lives have perished under Marcos’ fist.[15] Instead of “giving to the poor” as Jesus commanded, the Marcos family plundered and stole an estimated USD 10 billion from the Filipino people, leaving many who survived his regime in “grinding poverty” and psychological and physical trauma.[16]
Because of the atrocities committed under his dictatorship, he was ousted during the EDSA Revolution of 1986 where hundreds of thousands of Filipinos from all over the country and all walks of life demanded he step down. Eventually, he was exiled, not only from Malcañan Palace, but from the country itself. In many ways, Marcos was discovered to be the complete opposite of who Jesus is, and the EDSA Revolution was a response to that. Led by many Christians like Cardinal Jaime Sin, the Filipino people won as they sought to participate in Christ’s liberating presence and activity within the Filipino context.[17]
Indeed, we thought he would never return, and we thought the Marcoses would never return to power again.
But evidently, Duterte’s administration returned the Marcoses to political prominence, mainly through Bongbong. In Bongbong, Duterte sees the return of the Marcos regime, one that he has sought to replicate through his infamous War on Drugs that has taken over 30,000 lives in its wake (ten times the 3,000 who perished under Marcos).[18] Like Marcos, democracy is disintegrating under Duterte who has silenced and continues to silence his critics and opponents like Nobel Prize-winning journalist Maria Ressa and opposition senator Leila De Lima.[19]
Now leading the polls, the Marcos-Duterte union between Bongbong and Sara seems unstoppable. As The Kingmaker, an award-winning documentary by Lauren Greenfield argues, Duterte’s election and presidency is only a prelude for darker days to come—a setup for the return of Ferdinand Marcos’ empire through his namesake and heir, Bongbong.[20]
But what are we doing to remember the atrocities? Are we continuing to make connections between the voices of those who survived Marcos’ empire and those who are standing up against Duterte? Or are we allowing those voices to be silenced, left to waste in the dust, and never see the light of day?
Jesus calls us to hear, to listen, and to embrace each other. And we know that love will never abound if the Marcoses return to power again—if Bongbong returned to our beloved Philippine islands the distorted glory of his father’s dream to subjugate and control.
May we continue to strive for love. Indeed, may we continue to fight for freedom and democracy to abound in our country once more. And may we also remember that every struggle for liberation is never vain by reflecting upon the Risen Christ who defeated death on the cross, whose victory has already been secured for us today.