Elections in Canada and the Philippines: A Tale of Two Systems

In a comparative look at elections in Canada and the Philippines, the author notes stark differences in campaigning styles and political engagement. Canada showcases a more reserved election process versus the chaotic and often violent Philippine elections. Concerns over political dynasties, voter naïveté, and corruption persist in the Philippines, contrasting the election experience one finds in Canada.

SASKATOON — As I reflect on the elections in both Canada and the Philippines, there is a stark difference in the systems and atmospheres involved. Canada’s latest election, which I am covering for the second time, may soon be decided as I write. The last federal election I covered was back in September 2021, when I found myself at the Saskatoon Inn, observing the election night proceedings centered around Maxime Bernier’s People’s Party of Canada.

Following that, I witnessed the provincial election in October last year. The Saskatchewan Party maintained its majority for a fifth consecutive term, although they faced challenges, losing ground in Regina and several ridings in Saskatoon. The Saskatchewan NDP showed significant growth, doubling their representation in the Legislature. More recently, city elections last November brought a historic moment, with Cynthia Block becoming the city’s first female mayor, and Senos Timon, a refugee from Sudan, being elected as the first city councillor of African descent.

Living in Saskatoon for nearly six years, I have observed local campaigning methods. They are rather understated—just lawn signs, billboards, and candidates distributing flyers in mailboxes. It is quite remarkable, really, considering the experience in my home country of the Philippines where elections are vibrant and noisy, reminiscent of the celebratory atmosphere I once witnessed while working in Saipan, a U.S. territory.

Originally from Manila, I returned to the Philippines recently during the hottest time of the year, with temperatures soaring into the high 30s and even reaching 41 C. While I was home, a campaign frenzy unfolded as voters prepared to fill 18,198 positions across various levels of government, including 12 Senate seats. Conditions in the Philippines are chaotic; loud campaign jingles blare starting at 7 a.m., and vividly colored posters are plastered everywhere. Often, candidates adopt pop songs, bending their lyrics in humorous, often bizarre ways to promote themselves.

Unfortunately, the election landscape can turn very dark in more rural areas, where violence can erupt. Candidates are sometimes targeted by hired assassins, which is a grim reality of competing in such a politically charged environment. Furthermore, vote-buying remains an issue, where money is exchanged for support. I find it disheartening that many candidates promise to prioritize the needs of ordinary citizens, yet some are merely using their positions to enrich friends and family.

Political dynasties are a hallmark of the Philippine political landscape; many candidates hail from families entrenched in political life for generations. In Las Piñas, for instance, rival cousins from the same political family, holding power since the 1960s, are vying for the mayoralty. This dynasty trend extends to the Senate race as well, where a mix of actors, celebrities, and questionable characters populate the candidate list, some of whom have family ties to current senators.

The fundamental issue resides with the voters, particularly those from the poorest demographics, who display a lack of electoral maturity and knowledge regarding candidate qualifications. Instead of making informed decisions, many are enticed by the entertainment value of campaign rallies, which underscores a superficial engagement in the political process. It is troubling that individuals like disgraced Pastor Apollo Quiboloy can run for Senate despite serious legal troubles.

A senator’s role is complex and vital—creating and amending laws requires a commitment to research and rigorous policy development, yet that standard is not always met. I was disheartened to see the same societal issues during my visit to Marilao, Bulacan. The presence of individuals stuck in cycles of poverty, manipulated by politicians through patronage and the cultural expectation of
utang na loob — a deep-rooted sense of gratitude — poses significant challenges to change.

Even as my family and I live in Canada, my hope remains that the Philippines can progress. I yearn for a time when marginalized communities are represented in the Legislature, where their rights are prioritized, and improvements in their quality of life are realized. Every child deserves access to quality education, and every worker should receive fair wages. Ultimately, I envision a Philippines where accountability prevails and citizens see tangible benefits from their taxes, rather than those resources being siphoned away by self-serving elites.

The contrast between the election systems in Canada and the Philippines underscores significant differences in political culture, voter engagement, and campaign strategies. Where Canadian elections are often subdued, the Philippines tends to be chaotic and festive but rife with corruption and violence. As residents of Canada, we can only hope for a future in the Philippines that promotes accountability and genuine representation, especially for marginalized groups. Just as every election counts, every vote matters significantly in shaping the future of a nation.

Original Source: www.sasktoday.ca