*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD
I’ve been getting both positive and negative feedback ever
since I wrote about the possibility of a provincial governor becoming
president. Honestly, I decided I should cease at that point because I already have numerous other issues and causes I wish to address in my writing. But the noise it
created—reaching not only national but even international ears—stirred
something in me. My hypothalamus pushes me to dig deeper, to write more,
and to keep exploring the idea no matter how controversial it may be.
When I look at the history of Philippine politics, one thing
strikes me as odd. In the United States, governors have always been strong
contenders for the presidency. Roosevelt, Reagan, Clinton, and Bush—all of them
first proved themselves by running a state before leading a nation. Yet here in
the Philippines, it is almost always senators who rise to Malacañang. No
provincial governor has ever made that leap.
I consider the phenomenon puzzling because I know what it means to be a
governor in the Philippine setting. A governor is like a little president of a provincial state of a federal government. He
carries on his shoulders the burdens of an entire province—overseeing health,
education, peace and order, social services, disaster response, and even
agriculture. A reputable governor cannot hide in the shadows. He must face people’s
problems every single day, and he must make decisions that cut across every
sector of society. And yet, when it comes to choosing a president, Filipinos
seem to set aside this kind of experience in favor of senators—many of whom
have never managed a city hall, let alone a whole province.
The explanation, I believe, lies in how our elections are
structured. Senators are elected at large. Every campaign they run is a
nationwide exercise in branding and machinery. By the time a senator seeks the
presidency, his name has already been tested and recognized from Aparri to Jolo
(De Guzman & Reforma, 2010). Governors, no matter how competent, are
confined to their provinces. The boundary marker marks the end of their influence. Unless they have the rare resources of a dynasty, their national presence
is minimal.
This leads me to discuss another important topic: dynasties. The Senate
is home to the most entrenched political families in the country—Aquinos,
Marcoses, Osmeñas, Cayetanos, Rectos, Villars, Ejercitos, Tulfos, and many more. As
Mendoza, Beja, Venida, and Yap (2012) have shown, dynasties thrive in national
politics because they can consolidate resources and stretch their patronage
networks beyond provincial borders. Without the support of such dynasties, governors seldom have a chance.
Add to the equation the power of the media. Senators bask in
national coverage. Their speeches are televised, their soundbites quoted, and their
faces plastered across newspapers and social media. They are manufactured as
national personalities even before they run for president. Governors, on the
other hand, remain invisible outside their provinces—unless a scandal erupts or
a calamity puts them in the headlines. As Sheila Coronel (2007) observes,
politics in the Philippines is personality-driven, and visibility often
outweighs competence. That is why celebrities, ex-convicts, and controversial
figures still navigate their way into the Senate. People vote for the familiar, not
necessarily for the capable and qualified.
Such an arrangement creates a contradiction that has always bothered me as
an academician. We treat the Senate as a training ground for the presidency, even though it is often the worst classroom for executive leadership.
Many senators make fine legislators, but some are there simply because they are
famous or wealthy. A few have no track record in public administration. Some
even carry the baggage of corruption or criminal cases. Yet they are the ones
considered “presidential material.” Meanwhile, governors, who are already
functioning as little presidents, are overlooked.
I am thinking about Governor Reynaldo Tamayo Jr. of South Cotabato in relation to my previous article, titled "Gov. Reynaldo Tamayo Jr.: The Quiet Leader Who Might Surprise the Nation in 2028." Here
is a man who, by many accounts, is one of the most promising provincial
executives of his generation. He is close to his people, reform-oriented, and
hands-on with the problems of his province. But outside South Cotabato, few
Filipinos even know his name. Observers say he does not have the “recall” to
make a serious national run. And they are right—at least under the current
rules of the game. Without national exposure, without a dynasty’s backing, his
chances are slim.
But what if it did not have to be this way? What if
governors stood together? The League of Provinces of the Philippines (LPP)
already exists as a policy-making and lobbying body (League of Provinces of the
Philippines, 2021). Imagine if it transformed into a true political bloc.
Imagine eighty-one governors agreeing that one of their own deserves to occupy Malacañang and then moving together as a unified force to support his candidacy. In such a
scenario, Governor Tamayo would no longer be just a local name from South
Cotabato; he could be the symbol of a new kind of leadership—grassroots,
tested, and truly executive.
For me, that is the greatest irony of Philippine politics. We
keep sending senators to the presidency, even though many of them lack the
training that comes from actually running a government. We dismiss governors
who have already proven they can lead. Our political culture favors name recalls
over competence, dynasties over reformers, and celebrities over administrators.
But the day may come when Filipinos rethink what kind of
preparation truly matters for the presidency. Perhaps we will realize that the
Senate floor, with all its speeches and investigations, is not the best
training ground after all. The better training ground may be the provincial
capitol, where leaders face the storms of typhoons, the demands of farmers, the
cries of the poor, and the chaos of politics all at once. There, governors are
forced to be decisive, empathetic, and pragmatic—qualities every president
should have.
To be brutally frank, I won't gain anything from writing about the potential of this provincial governor to be president of the nation. I write this for the people to be educated about the neglect of how the masses worship nationally elected officials, celebrities, and famous personalities and ignore the achievements and accomplishments of provincial governors in nation-building, and I boldly manifest that if the election were to be held today, I
would vote for Secretary Gibo Teodoro, for the reason that I know him personally
and I can see myself in him and my advocacy for national security, sustainable development,
international diplomacy, and public safety, but the election is not today; I can
still change my mind. I need to look at the welfare of the country and not
favor my personal bias. But I can still change my vote in 2028. People vote for name-recall
and survey frontrunners. But a surprise might happen in 2028; I know the odds
remain against men like Governor Tamayo. However, if the day arrives when governors unite and the League of Provinces finds its collective voice, the presidency might no longer be dominated by dynasties, billionaires, action stars, social media-savvy candidates, and celebrities. It could represent the ultimate accomplishment of a true provincial stalwart—someone who comprehends the essence of serving from the grassroots.
References
Coronel, S. (2007). The media, the market and democracy: The
case of the Philippines. In S. Coronel (Ed.), The role of the news media in
democratization (pp. 139–178). East-West Center.
De Guzman, R. P., & Reforma, M. A. (2010).
Decentralization toward democratization and development in the Philippines. In
J. Öjendal & A. Dellnäs (Eds.), The imperative of good local governance:
Challenges for the next decade of decentralization (pp. 155–183). United
Nations University Press.
League of Provinces of the Philippines. (2021). About the
League. https://lpp.gov.ph/about
Mendoza, R. U., Beja, E. L., Venida, V. S., & Yap, D. B.
(2012). Inequality in democracy: Insights from an empirical analysis of
political dynasties in the 15th Philippine Congress. Philippine Political
Science Journal, 33(2), 132–145. https://doi.org/10.1080/01154451.2012.734093
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