February 11, 1998, Seattle Times / Chicago Tribune, 9 Would-Be Presidents Give Philippines Few Real Options -- Ballot Includes Ex-Actor, Imelda Marcos, by Uli Schmetzer,

February 11, 1998, Seattle Times / Chicago Tribune, 9 Would-Be Presidents Give Philippines Few Real Options -- Ballot Includes Ex-Actor, Imelda Marcos, by Uli Schmetzer, 

MANILA - Comedians in the Philippines ask their audiences these days: Who would survive if a boat holding all 45 presidential candidates capsized on the high seas?

The answer: The 72 million Filipino people.

The popular gag resonates with an electorate that has the unenviable task of choosing its next president from a list of candidates derided by columnist Amando Doronila as "a burlesque of a presidential succession that insults Filipino intelligence."

When the filing deadline passed this week, voters were confronted with a virtual herd of candidates. The front runner is former actor Josef Estrada, portrayed as a man with a zest for women and casinos. He is followed by former police chief Alfredo Lim, notorious for leaving around corpses and nailed-up nightclubs.

Other favorites are Speaker of the House Jose de Venecia, often depicted as the king of cronyism, and former first lady Imelda Marcos, who is not only famous for her many shoes but who also has been convicted for embezzling $5 billion of public funds.

Among the other candidates are a man who gives his profession as "international playboy," and 41-year-old Mario Legaspi, who claims he is the father of Jesus Christ.

The elections are in May, but the candidates have already mobilized caravans of supporters who trudge through the capital to the beat of a drum and the honk of car horns. Most of them are rent-a-crowds who will shout the candidates' names for 100 pesos a day ($2.50) plus a free meal. Some are peasants and laborers imported from the provincial villages or haciendas of the candidates.

"You can still rent a crowd and buy votes in the Philippines," said Arnulfo Gonzalez, a university researcher. "The candidate who doles out the most money is the most likely to win."

Marcos faces 9 to 12 years behind bars if the Supreme Court fails to quash her conviction for embezzlement during the 20-year dictatorship of her late husband, Ferdinand. She told supporters this week she was standing for the nation's top office "to bring back dignity, decency and leadership to the presidency."

Advising most candidates are fortune tellers and geomancers, who often define strategy and wield immense influence. Among the most popular fortune tellers are two women simply known as Paloma and Rina, who advise nearly all the main candidates.

In an interview, Paloma said her advice to Marcos would be to tell Filipinos she wants to be president to make sure the billion-dollar Marcos fortune is returned to the people.

Within days, Marcos told a flabbergasted nation she was filing her candidacy so the Marcos fortune would "reach the people" and "the poor and oppressed can have a brighter future."

Lim, the current mayor of Manila, asked his fortune teller whether his ethnic Chinese background and name would harm his candidacy. The reply was "yes - among Filipinos." The mayor's bid for president is backed by the ethnic Chinese community, who make up only 1 percent of the population but own nearly 50 percent of the nation's private wealth.

Lim has issued a feature film of his life for viewing in cinemas, many of them owned by ethnic Chinese who see in Lim's law-and-order platform some hope for an end to the almost daily kidnappings of rich Chinese for ransom.

The ruses candidates use to lure votes across the 7,000-island archipelago are often crude and primitive. In a country that lacks basic rural infrastructures, a favorite trick is to claim credit for the construction of roads, bridges, dams or any other public works.

On the dirt road from Puerto Princesa to Roxas on Palawan island, the few makeshift bridges and cement patches bore the prominent placards in 1992: "This bridge was built thanks to Speaker Ramon Mitra."

Mitra lost the presidential race to Fidel Ramos, and the placards were quickly replaced with the legend: "This bridge was built thanks to candidate Hagedorn." The generous Hagedorn was duly elected Mayor of Puerto Princesa.

These days the signs on the bridges and cement patches bear words of gratitude to House Speaker Jose de Venecia, who is the government party's candidate for president.

Front-runner Estrada is a former movie tough guy whose Robin Hood image on the screen has made him a favorite among the Filipino poor. They see him as the man who will right the country's many wrongs.

He is now an obese 60-year-old who often speaks in grunts and riddles. At a press dinner recently, Estrada replied to the question of how he would revive the country's sluggish economy with a shrug of his massive shoulders and the quip: "Take up more loans. That's what we've always done here. No?"

He is the scourge of the business community, whose collective hair stands on end whenever he talks about taking 20 percent from the rich to help the poor. People like novelist Frankie Sionil Jose have threatened to emigrate if Estrada wins.

The Catholic Church has virtually told its faithful not to vote for Estrada, notorious for his romantic trysts and out-of-wedlock children. Manuel Morato, another presidential hopeful, produced videotapes from a security camera this month showing the vice president apparently playing baccarat with gambling kingpin Charlie Atong Ang in a government casino.

By law, government officials are not allowed to gamble in government casinos. Estrada said he was only watching the other man's cards.

Estrada's main opponent is de Venecia, a wily politician whose tentacles reach into most pork barrels and public projects. He has been endorsed by President Ramos as the government party's candidate.

Former President Corazon Aquino has endorsed Mayor Lim, the man who closed Manila's Ermita red light district - which then simply moved a mile farther south - and headed a gung-ho police force with a high "kill" toll of criminal suspects.

In his column headed "Politics of No Choice," Doronila concluded, "It is as if all the worst aspects of our politics and the worst qualified people are all converging and being dumped into us at the end of this century."