Philippines

By 2020, with the state of democracy already in dire shape, it seemed that things couldn’t get worse. And yet, in the past few years, they have.

President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.'s visit to Washington represents a significant deepening of the U.S.-Philippines relationship. But many other Southeast Asian countries are increasingly turning to China.

Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has taken differing policy approaches from his predecessor, Rodrigo Duterte.

Despite Southeast Asia's significant democratic erosion in 2022, upcoming elections and other political developments in 2023 could be even more detrimental to democracy in the region.

The early days of the Marcos Jr. administration may preview the remainder of his term.

Marcos Jr's decisive victory would change the political landscape in the Philippines.

The Philippines’ upcoming presidential election is likely to bring to power the son of the country’s longtime dictator and may end Philippine democracy.

The Philippines’ upcoming presidential election is likely to bring to power Ferdinand Marcos Jr., the son of a longtime dictator, and could spell the end of democracy in the country.

Although the actual election isn’t for another six weeks, current polling suggests Ferdinand Marcos Jr. is all but a lock to succeed Rodrigo Duterte as the Philippines’ next president. Marcos, a former senator and son of the late longtime Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos Sr., has opened up a massive lead against his nearest challenger, current Vice President Leni Robredo. A survey released by the respected Pulse Asia in March found that Marcos led Robredo by a whopping 44 points, with 60 percent of respondents expressing a preference for him. That actually increased his polling lead by 11 points from a prior Pulse Asia poll. Given what a divisive figure he is among sections of the Philippine population, Marcos will also benefit from the rules governing the country’s one-round presidential election, in which a simple plurality, rather than a majority, suffices to win. The opposition, currently fragmented around six candidates, might stand a chance if it rallied around one clear rival to Marcos, but so far that hasn’t happened, and it seems unlikely. As a result, it’s not premature to consider what to expect from Marcos, commonly known by his nickname Bongbong, should he become president as expected. When it comes to form, he would almost surely run a more businesslike and orderly administration than the vulgar, unpredictable Duterte. But when it comes to substance, he would probably continue some of Duterte’s most disastrous foreign and domestic policies, while adding other problematic elements of his own. In his term-limited six years in office, Duterte has done massive damage to the Philippines’ democracy, which, though imperfect, had been one of the strongest in Southeast Asia. His extrajudicial drug war resulted in the killings of thousands of innocent people, and even targeted political opponents. He also undermined the independence of the country’s highest courts and cracked down on the free press, among other blows to democratic governance and freedoms. In 2016, the year Duterte won office, Freedom House gave the Philippines a score of 65 out of 100 in its annual global survey of political and civil freedoms, with 100 being the highest possible score. By contrast, in the organization’s 2021 survey, the Philippines scored only 56. Marcos’ family past alone would have troubling implications for Philippine democracy. He and other members of the Marcos family have continued to celebrate the legacy of his father, a longtime, brutal dictator who was immensely corrupt. Far from denouncing his father’s record, the younger Marcos has tried to rehabilitate his image, claiming that Marcos Sr. could have transformed the Philippines into a wealthy, well-run state in the model of Singapore, had it not been for the obstruction of the democratic opposition. In addition to being a symbol of impunity through his connection to and defense of the former autocrat, Marcos will likely continue some of Duterte’s authoritarian policies. He has already suggested he will continue the extrajudicial drug war and, like Duterte, most likely prevent any investigations of it by outside actors like the International Criminal Court. Moreover, his likely vice president will be Duterte’s daughter, Sara Duterte-Carpio. Though the two positions are elected separately in the Philippines, Marcos has endorsed Duterte-Carpio, and she has a massive lead in the vice presidential race. As mayor of Davao, the same southern city where her father began his political career, Duterte-Carpio seems to have displayed little more commitment to democracy than Marcos, ruling at times by fiat and issuing orders that seem to contradict democratic norms. On foreign policy, Marcos may also represent continuity with Duterte, particularly when it comes to courting China, even though that approach has met with little success. The United States, Manila’s treaty ally, is still enormously popular with the Philippine people, and anti-China sentiment is rising. Yet, Marcos may go even farther than Duterte in tilting toward Beijing. He has openly promised to do so, while also pledging to abandon the Philippines’ victory in a 2016 international tribunal ruling that rejected China’s expansive maritime claims to the South China Sea. But there is little guarantee Beijing will offer much in return. Duterte hoped that by toning down Manila’s opposition to Beijing’s growing control of the South China Sea, he would win massive Chinese infrastructure contracts. But he actually reaped only modest investment, even as Beijing’s seizure and militarization of contested reefs angered Filipinos. Not every policy Marcos is likely to pursue will be a disaster. With a more professional, well-run administration, he would probably respond more effectively to the pandemic and its economic impact than Duterte, who badly botched the pandemic response. As a result, the Philippine economy took a hit last year, exacerbating the horrendous inequality and lack of robust social welfare programs that already characterizes the country. Given his somewhat more conventional political background compared to Duterte, Marcos will likely appoint respected economic technocrats and public health experts to manage the post-pandemic recovery, while redoubling the focus on upgrading the country’s woeful infrastructure and channeling money to smaller and medium-sized enterprises. The next government will have to control COVID-19 and improve vaccination rates, bolster consumer spending and infrastructure investment, and put the services industry back on track. It’s a tall order, but if accomplished, the economy could rebound strongly this year. Perhaps worst of all when it comes to Philippine democracy, Marcos’ rise to presidential front-runner status is in part the result of an informal alliance with three other powerful and dynastic Philippine families. In addition to endorsing Duterte-Carpio for vice president, Marcos has allied with the powerful family of former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, who likely would serve in the House, as well as with the family of former President Joseph Estrada, whose sons are running for Senate. (Both Estrada and Macapagal-Arroyo were jailed for crimes of corruption committed during their terms as president.) This four-way alliance, unprecedented even by the Philippines’ long history of powerful families working together to advance their political interests, once again underscores that power in the country is concentrated in just a few hands. To be sure, Philippine elections are often wild and chaotic affairs. Huge leads have vanished before in the final days of campaigns, and surprise candidates have won. And among segments of the population, hatred for the Marcoses runs deep. Large street protests erupted in Manila in late February to celebrate the anniversary of the overthrow of Marcos Sr.—and send a message to Marcos Jr. Yet with his enormous lead, his alliance with politically powerful dynastic families and the feeling in the Philippines that the race is all but over, Marcos is very likely to prevail. And that would be bad news for Philippines’ democracy.

Numerous countries will hold elections in 2022. Here are ten to watch. 

Duterte, or his successor, will likely continue the Philippines' democratic regression.

Philippine Foreign Minister Teodoro Locsin Jr. was peeved at Beijing. It was early May, and hundreds of Chinese vessels had been regularly intruding into the Philippines’ exclusive economic zone in the South China Sea, where the Chinese government has made expansive maritime territorial claims. After lodging numerous complaints through formal diplomatic channels to no avail, Locsin took to Twitter and unleashed an expletive-filled tirade. “China, my friend, how politely can I put it?” he wrote. “Let me see… O…GET THE [F**K] OUT.” (Locsin didn’t bother with the asterisks.) It was not only Philippine officials and diplomats who were angry at Beijing’s willingness to raise tensions in disputed waters. In a poll conducted by the ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute in Singapore earlier this year, before the latest Chinese incursions into Philippine waters, roughly 87 percent of Filipino respondents said that they considered China’s encroachments into other countries’ exclusive economic zones and continental shelves to be the “top concern” in the South China Sea. The same proportion, 87 percent, said that if forced to align with either the United States or China, they would choose the U.S.—the highest share of any country in Southeast Asia. But even as Filipinos of all stripes vent their anger at Beijing, they should be equally furious with their own leader. His policy toward China has failed to either protect the Philippines’ national security or to boost its economy. Since taking office in 2016, President Rodrigo Duterte has courted Beijing, playing down its construction of military facilities on reclaimed islands in the South China Sea and the aggressive behavior of China’s maritime militia vessels. He has also ignored, for the most part, a 2016 international tribunal ruling that unequivocally rejected China’s stated claims to sovereignty over most of the South China Sea. At the same time, Duterte has consistently undermined his country’s alliance with the U.S. He has stalled on renewing the Visiting Forces Agreement, or VFA—which allows U.S. troops to maintain a presence in the Philippines—after initially trying to kill it. Duterte also vetoed the Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement, a deal that would make it easier to move U.S. troops and weapons into bases near the South China Sea. To be sure, the Philippines and the U.S. still enjoy strong strategic ties, and security officials who value the alliance provide a counterweight to some of Duterte’s impulses. It was likely the country’s military and national security establishment that pushed Duterte to buy a new supersonic cruise missile that would provide a deterrent capability against China, to backtrack from trying to jettison the VFA and to make other quiet efforts to restore warmer ties with the U.S. Yet Duterte remains intent on currying favor with Beijing. After Locsin’s outburst, Duterte declared in a briefing that “China remains our benefactor.” The following day, Locsin took to Twitter again, this time to apologize to his Chinese counterpart, Wang Yi, “for hurting his feelings.” But the reality is that Duterte’s mostly hands-off approach to the South China Sea has failed to change China’s behavior. In fact, when it comes to territorial issues, Beijing has treated the groveling Duterte the same way it has treated leaders of countries like Vietnam, which have taken a more hard-line approach toward disputed maritime claims. The incident that prompted Locsin’s Twitter tirade was just one of many occasions when China has sent hundreds of boats into the Philippines’ exclusive economic zone during Duterte’s presidency, intimidating Philippine naval vessels and making it easier for Chinese forces to seize contested islands and fortify them. Last year, as COVID-19 ravaged the Philippines, including its top military commanders, Beijing declared administrative control of the disputed Spratly Islands. It also continued building up military facilities on reclaimed islands in the South China Sea and sent ships to encircle and menace Thitu, the most strategically vital of the disputed archipelagos that the Philippines still controls. China has also increasingly used aggressive fleets to turf Philippine fishers off rich fishing grounds. Duterte seemingly hoped that, by shifting toward Beijing, aid and investment would flow into the Philippines, bringing jobs, growth and much-needed infrastructure projects. Yet his approach has brought few economic benefits during his single six-year term, which ends next year. In splashy announcements in 2016, Beijing pledged tens of billions of dollars in new investments in the Philippines. But construction has only begun on two proposed Chinese infrastructure projects—a bridge and an irrigation system—and they remain far from completion. China’s vaunted plans for energy, rail and other infrastructure projects have not even broken ground. As the analyst Richard Heydarian has noted, much of the investment that China has actually delivered on in the Philippines under Duterte has gone to online casinos and modest projects like small bridges. For the most part, these projects have utilized Chinese workers rather than local labor, even as the Philippines is suffering its worst economic downturn since 1947. The lack of follow-through on investments China promised to the Philippines in 2016 contrasts sharply with other Southeast Asian states. In Indonesia, China is financing a multibillion-dollar high-speed railway project connecting the capital, Jakarta, with Bandung city, as well as another high-speed rail line in Thailand. Both projects were contracted on relatively favorable financing terms. China’s development aid to the Philippines also remains small by comparison with other major donors. A recent report on aid inflows prepared by the Philippine government’s economic planning body showed that Japan remained by far the country’s biggest donor. During the first half of 2020, Japan provided nearly 40 percent of the Philippines’ official development assistance—about 17 times more than what China provided. Aid from the Asian Development Bank and South Korea also surpassed Beijing’s. More recently, China has stepped up to provide Manila with some COVID-19 vaccines, though the effectiveness of the Chinese shots remains somewhat uncertain. Duterte’s approval ratings remain very high, but the Philippine public has noticed how little he has gotten from his dealings with Beijing. A wide range of opinion polls show heightened levels of anti-China sentiment among Filipinos. Perhaps aware of that trend in public opinion, several candidates for next year’s presidential election, including the boxer-turned-politician Manny Pacquiao, have been talking tough on China. If elected, he could reorient the country’s foreign policy back in a direction skeptical of Beijing, closer to the United States, and in favor of building a multilateral coalition to defend freedom of navigation and territorial rights in the South China Sea. The front-runner for the 2022 presidential election, though, remains Duterte’s daughter, Sara, mayor of the southern city of Davao, though she has not confirmed her intention to run. Sara Duterte’s views on China are not as openly favorable as her father’s. But if she does run and succeed him in office, inheriting his political machine as the bulwark of her support, she would be hard-pressed to reverse her father’s China policy, no matter how disastrous it has been for the country. And no matter who wins the presidency next year, Beijing will have spent Duterte’s term in office strengthening its hold on disputed maritime features that are critical to Philippine national security, in addition to providing livelihoods to the country’s fishers. The damage from Duterte’s disastrous China policy has already been done.