Philippine election: why is front runner Bongbong Marcos Jnr so hands-off, wary of debates and pressing the public's flesh?

Announcing that the Commission on Elections (Comelec) will host a presidential debate on March 17, spokesman James Jimenez said it was "important that candidates take the opportunity to speak to the public, to present their plans for government".

Earlier he said a candidate's refusal to attend a debate "could be a red flag for the voters".

Do you have questions about the biggest topics and trends from around the world? Get the answers with SCMP Knowledge, our new platform of curated content with explainers, FAQs, analyses and infographics brought to you by our award-winning team.

Journalist Inday Espina-Varona recently wrote on news website Rappler that Marcos' absence in public debates "reflects an unwillingness to have his actions and statements come under the scrutiny of the media and fellow candidates".

But it seems Marcos' aides could not care less. Rodriguez said his chief's participation in the Comelec debate "will only be confirmed if his hectic campaign schedules permit". What is unfolding seems to be part of a deliberate policy where Marcos will do nothing to endanger his high popularity numbers. Polls taken in January show he has a comfortable lead: a Pulse Asia Research survey reported 60 per cent of respondents would vote for Marcos for president, and only 16 per cent - a distant second - would choose his closest opponent, current Vice-President Leni Robredo.

According to a survey by research organisation Social Weather Stations, 50 per cent of respondents said they would pick Marcos and only 19 per cent would choose Robredo. Political strategist Alan German, president of Agents International Public Relations, said Marcos' ratings are high because of the disinformation the Marcos family have spread on vast online networks. "They've been at it a long time, they've had the advantage of time. They've been propagating their very well oiled social media machinery." The main issue with Marcos junior is that he is the only son and namesake of the brutal dictator whose 14-year martial law regime tortured and murdered thousands of Filipinos.

Philippine courts, Switzerland's Federal Supreme Court and banks have certified that the dictator, who was chased out of the country in 1986 and died in exile, stashed huge amounts of cash abroad. The Marcos family are estimated to have stolen at least US$10 billion.

In 2018 Imelda Marcos was sentenced by a Philippine court to 77 years in prison for seven counts of corruption involving the theft of US$200 million. Now 92, she has yet to see the inside of a jail cell.

But his family's criminal reputation hangs heavily over this year's political campaign. Often, when his motorcade drives by, people on the streets will yell "magnanakaw", meaning "thief".

It is one reason Marcos avoids debates and hard interviews: he knows his family's sordid record will be brought up. This happened in 2016 when he ran for vice-president (ultimately losing to Robredo) and joined a debate.

Not only was his family's record on human rights, corruption and ill-gotten wealth pointed out by the other candidates, but Marcos made a fool of himself.

Candidates were given thumbs-up and thumbs-down signs and asked to hold them to express a stance. When asked if he ever engaged in corrupt practices, he initially held his thumbs up-sign, changing to the thumbs-down sign after realising his mistake, leading to laughter and booing from the audience.

This all helps to explain why "avoidance" best describes the current Marcos strategy. Not only has he shied away from debates and hard interviews, but he has even occasionally shunned his own followers.

Two weeks ago Marcos did the unthinkable: while on a campaign sortie standing inside a truck inching its way through a crowd of supporters, he visibly recoiled when a fan on the street reached up to clasp his right hand. He jerked it away and then turned his back as if disgusted. A video of the incident went viral.

Marcos' behaviour is unusual in a political culture where, during election campaigns, candidates can barely be restrained from wading into crowds, pressing flesh, barging into houses and kissing babies.

Presidential candidates are also expected to give speeches where they describe what is wrong with the country and what they intend to do about it. When he ran for president in 2016, Rodrigo Duterte promised he would bring violence and death to drug criminals. He won, then followed up on his pledge.

Other candidates in this year's election have taken stands on issues. Robredo has vowed to look after the interests of the poor and upgrade the country's pandemic response. Former boxer Manny Pacquiao promised to jail corrupt officials and provide free housing. Mayor Isko Moreno said he would stand up to China's maritime encroachment. For his part, Marcos talks about how he will provide "unifying leadership" but does not give details. And his short, generic speeches, geared towards creating memorable sound bites, have been known to disastrously backfire.

During a speech in January he apparently lost track of his script and spouted the word "alamano", a nonexistent word in any language in the Philippines. The bewildering expression has become the Filipino equivalent of Donald Trump's nonsensical "covfefe" tweet in 2017. In a March 2 tweet, former chief justice Meilou Sereno described the Marcos campaign messaging as "feel good" and that it aimed to "form an alternative universe in the minds of those who are convinced to believe in their unity theme". But she said the alternative universe was "empty".

President Duterte, whose daughter Sara is Bongbong's running mate, is not a fan of Marcos. In November he called him a "weak leader," hinted he used cocaine and openly called him a "spoiled child". Compared to his father, Marcos Jnr is a lightweight. The late dictator graduated with a law degree from the elite University of the Philippines, had one of the highest scores in the bar exam, was a master of law and practical politics, exuded charisma and spoke eloquently. Bongbong does not have a degree although he lied about it a few years ago, claiming he got one from Britain's Oxford University in the 1970s. Plus, being a convicted tax cheat is something critics say should disqualify him outright from running for political office.

"He was convicted of tax evasion in 1995. It carried the penalty of perpetual disqualification from running in and holding any public post," said Perci Cendana from the left-wing Akbayan Partylist.

He said this meant Marcos was lying to Comelec and the Filipino people but Comelec allowed him to run anyway, giving the eyebrow-raising explanation that "failure to file income tax returns is not inherently immoral". Although Bongbong pales in comparison to his father, he has one thing his old man never had: the internet.

For years the Marcos family has industriously created vast networks of disinformation on Facebook and YouTube, rewriting history and sanitising the clan's image, turning the brutal dictatorship into a "golden age".

This article originally appeared on the South China Morning Post (SCMP).

Copyright (c) 2022. South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved.