Sea, sand, sun and San Miguel

Treating voters is an inevitable feature of political campaigning in the Philippines. But who really benefits from the hand-outs?

The endearing chaos of the Philippines? presidential and local elections this month might seem a million miles away from the beautiful people tanning themselves on tropical Boracay?s White Beach, once voted the world?s best.

But that?s not the case. Just 500 metres away from the shore, on the dusty main road behind the white sand and swaying coconut palms, the campaign for the post of mayor of Boracay has just hit top gear.

The noise is deafening and the atmosphere poisonous as some 300 passenger-carrying tricycle and moped drivers mercilessly gun their two-stroke engines. Clouds of acrid exhaust spew over the road as the latest political stunt of mayoral candidate Ceron ?Dodong? Cawaling, gets under way in the run-up to the May 10 elections.

Plastic yellow flags featuring his smiling face adorn the already garishly decorated tricycles, as the caravan carves its ear-shattering and polluting path through the island?s hinterland. Mayor Cawaling himself, for he is the incumbent seeking re-election, wisely opts for a more dignified and less bone-shaking golf cart, along with candidates who are on his ticket for several other elected local positions.

It?s ostensibly such a powerful show of local support that Cawaling must surely sweep all before him in the poll. But as with many things in the Philippines, appearances can be deceptive.

In fact, Cawaling is paying for his island junket, and handsomely too. He has promised each participant in the noisy procession between P300 and P500 each. That?s between $5 and $9, which is not bad pickings for a couple of hours of admittedly hot and dusty work. In the high season, plying his run-of-the mill trade, a Boracay tricycle driver might clear P1000 for a full day?s shift. In low season, that will fall to perhaps P400.

Tony Olaso, is one of the few tricycle drivers on the island who is sitting out the fun. He watches the snail-like pace of the procession and laughs. ?I wanted to join in,? he says cheerfully, ?but I turned up late. It?s too bad! I won?t vote for Cawaling. I support the other candidate: he?s my wife?s cousin, but if Dodong?s giving out money, of course I?d join.?

Olaso says that the money has been promised the following day and all of the participants will collect their wages from the barangay (neighbourhood) captain at the local hall.

Mayor Cawaling?s tricycle jamboree might seem like little more than a silly publicity stunt but there is method behind the apparent profligacy. During elections, the Philippines are replete with such funded public displays of support. With about 17,000 public positions up for grabs in this month?s polls, that?s a lot of partying. And Filipinos cannot resist a party.

?Election-related spending such as the festivals or ?fiestas? that go hand-in-hand with Philippine politics will naturally give a cyclical boost to food and beverage consumer companies,? writes Alex Pomento in a recent CLSA research report tipping consumer plays for investors in the run-up to polling day. ?Overall, election-related spending should translate into generally higher consumption, as candidates use money to woo voters.?

CLSA also tips local mobile telephone operators as likely beneficiaries of all of the activity that surrounds the elections.

In addition to raising his profile among the island?s electorate, Cawaling benefits from the appearance of being wealthy, successful and of course, generous.

However, the extra money that finds its way into the pockets of Boracay?s tricycle drivers does not stay there long: it inevitably ends up funding something of an impromptu alternative party as thirsty drivers get stuck into the San Miguel beer.

It is difficult to see who, other than the politicians and a few large local corporations, benefits from this system of patronage ? certainly not the local community. It is tempting to point out that the cost of Cawaling?s election hand-out, perhaps some $2,000, could have been better applied to funding the purchase of a generator for the local hospital so that operations can be performed during the island?s frequent brown-outs. ?We have a portable generator,? says the duty nurse apologetically, ?but it can only run the lights, nothing else.?

Then again, perhaps there is no need for a generator after all, since no-one who can possibly avoid it appears to attend the hospital if they are seriously ill. ?You only go there when you want to die,? says an expatriate resident cynically.

Back with the beautiful people on White Beach, it is fairly obvious which of the Philippines? large companies are expecting to benefit from all the election handouts. From one end of the stunning five kilometre beach to the other, barely a coconut tree, shop front, or sun shade is spared an advertisement from three of the country?s most powerful corporations. The message is painfully clear. Buy PLDT, Globe and San Miguel. Sell the Philippines.