By Francis Allan L. Angelo
Ah, what a sight is the political theater of the Philippines, where dynastic ballet is performed with the grace of a bull in a china shop. In the recent episodes of political musical chairs, the Treñas-Baronda saga offers a satirical yet sobering reflection on the family business that governance has become.
We begin with Councilor Urminico “Nick” Baronda, whose sudden tumble from the head of three committees is less a reflection of his performance and more a melodramatic fallout from a political schism. One must wonder, was it his deft handling of health and education that suddenly became inadequate, or did the strings of “term-sharing” pull tighter at the convenience of familial politics?
And then there’s the masterful stroke of nepotism, with Mayor Jerry Treñas casting his daughter as the successor in a congressional relay race. How touching to keep the baton in the family! It’s as if the mayoral seat came with a ‘+1’ invitation to Congress.
Let’s not overlook the political piety with which these moves are cloaked. A “sincere and honest” meeting, profound respect for divisive decisions, and gratitude for opportunities generously given by the electorate, as if public office were a gift one could pass around at family reunions.
The irony in this is as rich as the political clans themselves. In a democracy, where the idea is to churn leaders from a pool of diverse and capable citizens, we find a reluctance to pass the torch. Instead, we see a stubborn grip on power, as if it were the family silverware, to be polished and displayed but never actually used for its intended purpose.
The democratic spirit is indeed alive and well, if by ‘alive’ we mean locked in the attic while the same few families throw their opulent ball downstairs, drowning out the cries for fresh leadership. Political dynasties in the Philippines don’t just discourage new leaders; they put up a ‘No Vacancy’ sign while hosting a private party behind closed doors.
To the aspiring public servants not born under the ‘right’ family tree, the message is clear: “Thanks for your interest, but we prefer to keep this a family affair.” And to the voters, well, the subtext of every election is, “Please choose from our carefully curated selection of familiar last names.”
As the city awaits the post-Holy Week resurrection of council sessions, one wonders if the spirit of genuine democracy might also rise again. Will the people of Iloilo City be treated to governance that prioritizes the common good over familial gain, or will the dynastic drama continue to unfold, page after inexorable page, like the most predictable of telenovelas?
In this city, where the potential for a dynamic and inclusive political landscape is as rich as the tapestry of its culture, one can only hope that the electorate will tire of the same old reruns and demand a new show altogether. Until then, we’ll be here, watching the ruling families play hot potato with public office, a satirical comedy where the joke, alas, is on the governed.
