Second Instalment
Rethinking EDSA, Governance, and the Politics of Memory
One of the more persistent distortions in contemporary narratives about EDSA is the claim that a single political bloc—often caricatured as the “dilawans”—monopolised power and steered the country in a uniform direction in the decades that followed. A closer, historically grounded examination does not sustain this claim. The post-EDSA period is better understood not as a continuum of ideological control, but as a sequence of distinct administrations, each shaped by different political coalitions, governing philosophies, and historical constraints.
The presidency of Corazon Aquino was defined less by ideological consolidation than by political restoration. It brought together a broad and inherently fragile coalition—ranging from reform-oriented elites and segments of the Catholic Church to elements of the military and civil society actors united primarily by opposition to authoritarian rule. Aquino’s leadership was marked by moral authority rooted in the anti-dictatorship struggle, but this did not translate into a coherent program for structural transformation. Her administration faced persistent destabilisation, including multiple coup attempts, as well as pressures from competing constituencies with divergent expectations. The Mendiola massacre highlighted the tensions between reformist aspirations and entrenched interests, particularly in relation to land reform and social justice. In this sense, the Aquino government functioned as a transitional regime—reopening democratic space while leaving many structural questions unresolved.
The administration of Fidel V. Ramos marked a shift toward consolidation and technocratic governance. Ramos, drawing on his military background and pragmatic political approach, sought to stabilise institutions and reposition the Philippines within a rapidly globalising economic order. His administration emphasised market-oriented reforms, deregulation, and infrastructure development, alongside efforts to resolve long-standing internal conflicts through negotiated peace processes. Politically, Ramos operated through coalition-building rather than ideological alignment, assembling a broad base of support that cut across traditional party lines. His project was less about ideological transformation than about restoring confidence—in governance, in markets, and in the state’s capacity to function. However, the limits of this approach became evident during the Asian Financial Crisis, which exposed underlying vulnerabilities in the economic model.
The presidency of Joseph Estrada introduced a different political dynamic. Estrada’s rise was grounded in populist appeal, drawing support from lower-income sectors through rhetoric that positioned him as a representative of the “masa.” Unlike his predecessors, Estrada’s legitimacy was not anchored in institutional reform or technocratic competence, but in a direct connection with marginalised constituencies. However, this political style did not translate into a coherent governance framework. His administration was marked by inconsistencies, internal divisions, and allegations of corruption that ultimately led to his ouster. Estrada’s presidency revealed both the political potency of populist mobilisation and its limitations when not supported by institutional coherence or policy depth.
The administration of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo combined elements of technocratic governance with a highly contested political foundation. Arroyo’s ascent to power, following Estrada’s removal, was framed as a constitutional transition but remained politically polarising. Her administration focused on macroeconomic stabilisation, fiscal reforms—most notably the expansion of the value-added tax—and efforts to sustain economic growth in a challenging global environment. Arroyo’s governing style was characterised by a strong emphasis on executive control and political survival, often relying on strategic alliances and institutional manoeuvring. While her tenure delivered measurable economic gains, it was persistently overshadowed by questions of legitimacy, including allegations of electoral manipulation. This duality—economic performance alongside political contestation—became a defining feature of her administration.
The administration of Benigno Aquino III is often invoked as emblematic of so-called “liberal” rule, representing a return to a reform-oriented, institution-focused approach. Anchored in a platform of anti-corruption and good governance, Aquino’s administration sought to rebuild public trust in state institutions and improve fiscal management. His leadership drew on a narrative of moral renewal linked to his family’s association with the anti-dictatorship movement. Yet even here, the picture is more complex.
Economically, the period was marked by strong growth, improved credit ratings, and increased investor confidence. The administration emphasised institutional reform, anti-corruption, and fiscal discipline, achieving macroeconomic gains and international confidence. At the same time, these gains unfolded within a broader global framework shaped by neoliberal economic principles, which prioritised market efficiency and growth but proved insufficient in addressing entrenched inequality and structural imbalances. Economic expansion did not automatically translate into equitable distribution, leaving underlying social tensions unresolved. While the emphasis on institutional reform was significant, it did not fully address deeper questions of inequality and exclusion.
Taken together, these administrations reflect a pattern of divergence rather than continuity. They were shaped by different political affiliations, leadership styles, and governing priorities. To reduce them to a single ideological bloc is to overlook the complexity of the post-EDSA period and obscure the varied ways in which governance was pursued under changing conditions. Collapsing these administrations into a single, continuous “dilawan” project is therefore analytically untenable—it simplifies a far more complex political trajectory into a convenient but misleading narrative.
At the same time, the landscape of progressive politics was undergoing its own transformation. The Left, which had been a significant force in the anti-dictatorship struggle, entered the post-EDSA period already weakened by internal conflicts—marked by ideological divisions, rectification campaigns, and violent purges that eroded cohesion and trust. These dynamics extended beyond internal organisational concerns, affecting relationships with other actors in the broader social movement.
In the years that followed, this fragmentation did not simply result in pluralism. It often translated into competition and distrust. Certain sections of the hard-line Left, seeking to recover lost ground and reaffirm historical leadership, attempted to reassert ideological authority over the broader movement. Rather than consolidating alliances, these efforts frequently deepened divisions. Other progressive groups—church-based organisations, NGOs, and emerging civil society formations—responded with caution or resistance, shaped by earlier experiences of exclusion or confrontation. What might have evolved into a broad, adaptive coalition instead became a landscape marked by contested legitimacy and limited coordination.
These internal dynamics significantly constrained the capacity of progressive forces to influence the direction of the post-EDSA transition. At a moment when institutional reform, redistribution, and social justice required sustained and coordinated pressure, fragmentation diluted collective agency. The result was not the absence of reform, but its unevenness—partial advances alongside persistent structural inequalities.
At the same time, the Philippines was navigating a rapidly changing regional and global context. The post-Cold War period gave way to new configurations of power, among them the rise of China as a major economic, political, and military actor. This shift enabled more assertive behaviour in contested spaces such as the South China Sea, where expansive and widely challenged claims intersected with the Philippines’ own territorial and sovereign interests. China’s growing influence also extended into economic and political spheres, shaping dynamics not only within the Philippines but across ASEAN.
These global shifts interacted with domestic trajectories. Liberal democratic governments operated within an international system increasingly shaped by neoliberal economic norms, while also confronting new geopolitical pressures. The space for national policymaking was therefore neither fully autonomous nor entirely constrained; it was negotiated within overlapping layers of global markets, regional power competition, and domestic political realities.
It is within this broader context—of uneven governance outcomes and fragmented social movements—that the conditions for populism took shape. Beneath the macroeconomic gains and institutional continuity, legitimate questions had been accumulating: why had liberal democratic governance struggled to address fundamental and institutional injustices? Why did inequality persist despite sustained growth? Why did reforms appear incremental in the face of urgent social needs?
The rise of Rodrigo Duterte can be understood as emerging from these unresolved tensions. His political appeal lay in his ability to articulate widely felt frustrations and to present himself as an alternative to what was perceived as a slow and ineffective system. Where previous administrations emphasised process, institutional safeguards, and gradual reform, Duterte offered a model of governance centred on immediacy and decisiveness.
At the same time, populism operates not only by responding to grievances, but by reshaping and exploiting them. It simplifies complex structural issues, identifies convenient targets, and offers solutions that appear direct and immediate but often bypass institutional safeguards. In the Philippine context, this dynamic was reinforced through the reframing of political identities. Those associated with liberal democratic governance were increasingly characterised as “disente”—a term that, rather than signifying civic responsibility, was recast as an indicator of elitism and detachment. This discursive shift allowed populist narratives to transform structural critiques into cultural and political divisions.
The governance approach that followed reflected these dynamics. Duterte’s administration sustained certain economic policies in its early years, while simultaneously redefining political practice through a greater reliance on executive authority. The brutal, bloody anti-drug campaign became a central expression of this approach. It was marked by widespread violations of fundamental human rights and raised grave concerns regarding due process and accountability. It can be understood ironically as a response—however deeply problematic—to longstanding frustrations with crime, corruption, inequality, and institutional inefficiency. Yet in promising immediate and forceful action, it also demonstrated the risks inherent in bypassing the very institutions designed to uphold justice.
Table 1: Comparative Socio-Economic Indicators Across Post-EDSA Philippine Administrations
| Administration | Period Covered | Avg GDP Growth (%) | Poverty Incidence (%) | Inflation (avg %) | Unemployment (%) | Key Observations |
| Corazon Aquino | 1986–1992 | 3.1 | 45.3 (1985) → 39.9 (1991) | 11.2 | 8.7 | Post-crisis recovery; macro instability early; high inflation and debt burden |
| Fidel V. Ramos | 1992–1998 | 4.7 | 39.9 (1991) → 31.8 (1997) | 7.6 | 8.4 | Structural reforms; liberalisation; improved growth; Asian Financial Crisis impact |
| Joseph Estrada | 1998–2001 | 3.4 | 31.8 (1997) → 33.7 (2000) | 6.8 | 9.8 | Populist orientation; uneven recovery post-crisis; governance instability |
| Gloria Macapagal Arroyo | 2001–2010 | 4.8 | 33.7 (2000) → 26.3 (2009) | 5.8 | 7.5 | Fiscal consolidation (VAT); steady growth; inequality persists |
| Benigno Aquino III | 2010–2016 | 6.2 | 26.3 (2009) → 21.6 (2015) | 3.1 | 6.8 | Strong macro growth; governance reforms; limited redistribution |
| Rodrigo Duterte (Pre-COVID) | 2016–2019 | 6.4 | 21.6 (2015) → 18.1 (2018) | 3.2 | 5.4 | Growth continuity; infrastructure expansion; poverty reduction gains |
| (COVID/Post-COVID) | 2020–2022 | −9.5 (2020); 5.7 (2021); 7.6 (2022) | 18.1 (2018) → 23.7 (2021) | 3.9 | 8.7 (2020 peak) | Severe contraction due to COVID-19; recovery uneven; poverty reversal |
Notes
- GDP Growth
Source: World Bank World Development Indicators (constant prices, annual %)
Averages computed as simple mean of annual growth rates within each administration period - Poverty Incidence
Source: Philippine Statistics Authority official poverty statistics
Figures represent closest available survey years (not annual averages)
Not strictly comparable across decades due to methodology updates - Inflation (CPI)
Source: PSA Consumer Price Index (annual averages)
Based on prevailing base years per period - Unemployment
Source: PSA Labor Force Survey
Annual averages per administration period - Duterte Period Treatment
Split into:
Pre-COVID (2016–2019) → trend continuity
COVID/Post-COVID (2020–2022) → structural shock
Populism, in this sense, can be seen as both a product and an amplifier of unresolved tensions within the post-EDSA period. It draws on real grievances but channels them into forms of political action that may further complicate, if not totally hinder, the pursuit of justice and structural transformation. Its emergence underscores the need to examine not only the failures of governance, but also the conditions that make such political responses possible.
This process was further enabled—and accelerated—by the strategic use of digital platforms. Social media did not merely serve as a neutral channel for communication; it became an active arena where narratives were constructed, amplified, and contested. In this space, simplified and often distorted accounts of both the EDSA People Power Revolution and the Marcos dictatorship circulated alongside more complex historical interpretations. Over time, these narratives contributed to a reframing of public memory—blurring distinctions among documented history, revisionist accounts, and outright lies.
By repeatedly associating the post-EDSA period with failure and inefficiency, while simultaneously recasting the dictatorship (as well as populist, authoritarian rule) in more favourable or ambiguous terms, these narratives created an environment in which those political trajectories are readily legitimised. The persistence and scale of such messaging did not simply reflect public sentiment; it actively shaped it, reinforcing existing frustrations while manipulating them toward distorted political conclusions and actions.
In this context, the return of the Marcos family to national political prominence cannot be understood solely as a product of electoral dynamics. It reflects a longer process in which historical narratives, political dissatisfaction, and digital amplification intersected. The ability to reframe the past became part of the struggle over the present, illustrating how political outcomes are increasingly mediated not only by institutions and material conditions, but also by control over narrative and memory.
It is clear the post-EDSA period reveals neither a singular failure nor a unified project of governance. It is better understood as a contested and uneven trajectory—marked by institutional rebuilding, unresolved structural inequalities, political fragmentation, and shifting global conditions. Simplified narratives, whether celebratory or dismissive, fail to capture this complexity, as illustrated partly in Table 1 above. Difficult and persistent problems required complex and sustained responses. The challenge is not to replace one caricature with another, but to recognise how multiple trajectories—state, movement, and global context—interacted to shape the failures, limits, and possibilities of a post-EDSA Philippines.
Third and last instalment: Rediscovering our Revolution: Exploring ways forward.
