In the Philippines, blood is not thicker than water

For decades, the Marcos name relied on a myth: that loyalty runs in their veins, that the North stands “solid”, that the past was somehow “golden” if you squint hard enough. Today, all of that is collapsing in public. 

The very line, “blood is thicker than water” was torched by the very people who built and rebuilt the dynasty back to the Malacañang.

The feud between the Marcos siblings is no longer a single political exit of Senator Imee Marcos from the ruling coalition’s Alyansa. It has grown to become a political scandal, a rummaging through of Bongbong Marcos’ alleged cocaine use, and a proof that in the Philippines, blood is not thicker than water.

What Imee has done, in reality, is a dynastic self-cannibalism and a dangerous political liability and a dereliction of duty. Instead of prioritizing the country’s needs and focusing on her work as a senator of the Philippines, and the chair of the Senate’s Committee on Foreign Relations, she has taken it up to herself to save her face and distance herself from the Marcos branding, which she has now labeled as drug-addled politicians.

The first crack in the facade was strategic. The elder Marcos’ decision not to run under the younger Marcos’ “Alyansa para sa Bagong Pilipinas” coalition was painted by some as a tactical move to court the Duterte base. However, the separation has grown far more visceral than mere election strategy. 

Senator Marcos’ ultimate decision to use explicit and personal attacks against the executive Marcos is dirtying the name and credibility of the presidency and the family’s “Solid North” brand. Gone is the sanctity of the family name, and about comes the thought that if a Marcos is elected, they came from a corruptive Liza, and a drug-addled Bongbong.

But, in an attempt to disprove his aunt’s claims, Sandro Marcos said that his Tita Imee is a betrayer, nothing more than a political opportunist. In the picture, however, when the younger generation is forced to choose and publicly condemn a blood relative, this proves that the political family has become fundamentally unstable.

To add to the flame, even the Dutertes, once the political allies in the Alyansa, have joined in to defend Imee and defame Bongbong. The immediate and gleeful intervention of the Duterte faction, including Paolo Duterte joining the mockery, confirms that the Marcos feud is the greatest political gift to the opposition. They do not need to campaign against the President; they simply watch as the Marcoses destroy their own legitimacy from within.

Amidst however, this political show and lack of respect for the Filipino idea of a family, come the true victims–the Filipinos. Once again, they have failed by the families that they thought of as messianic saviors of the already failing economy, credibility, and international politesse of the country. 

In the end, what may solve the Marcoses’ unheard-of family feud is political détente, separating their personal vendetta from the functions of the State. Failing this, one must resign their post to remove the daily spectacle of conflict from the center of power. 

This conflict, however, reveals a horror about our current governance. If the President cannot secure the loyalty of his own blood, how can he secure the stability of a coalition, more so of the country he is elected to lead? 

The Marcos restoration was predicated on the myth of unity, that the country might see a Bagong Lipunan again. But like friendly fire, that myth is being debunked by the very people who built it.

The Philippines is witnessing a real-time history sui generis, or more so, an executive conflict of a dynasty that had long wanted power back. Better stated, brother against sister. Dog eat dog. Marcos versus a Marcos. 

We can rewrite the old “blood is thicker than water” rhetoric now. It should be “In the Philippines, water, the violent current of power, will always drown blood. And the Marcoses just proved it.”