It wasn’t a surprise that Abdulraof Macacua became the interim chief minister of the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM). His name had been in the air for some time, even floated as far back as the Duterte administration, according to the head of a nongovernmental organization involved in peace-building efforts in the region. So, it was a coronation long foretold.

By March, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. appointed Macacua and a new set of BARMM parliament members after moving the region’s first parliamentary elections from May to October. If the calendar remains unmolested, Macacua will lead for seven months. It’s a brief interlude in the region’s ongoing peace process which, as we see now, includes political maneuverings and shifting alliances.

The question looms: Why was MILF chairman Ahod “Al Haj” Murad discarded before the finish line?

One answer, as is often the case in Philippine politics, lies in a cocktail of wounded pride and transactional loyalty. In 2023, Maguindanao del Sur Governor Mariam Mangudadatu, in a pointed speech dripping with reproach, reminded Marcos:

“Kami po ang inyong ‘Family Alliance’ dito sa Maguindanao ang una pong sumuporta po sa inyo…. At kami ang mga ‘Family Alliance’ ang sumugal sa inyo dahil ang aming paniniwala na kaya ninyong higitan ang nagawa ng mga nakaraang administrasyon.”

(It was us, your “Family Alliance” in Maguindanao, who first supported you. We cast our lot on you because we believed you could surpass past administrations.)

This was not so much an appeal as a reminder that debts, particularly political ones, must be paid. The grievance? Macacua’s 2023 appointment as acting governor of Maguindanao del Norte had displaced Fatima Ainee Sinsuat, a Mangudadatu ally who had assumed, wrongly, that her allegiance would be rewarded.

For Marcos, it was a familiar tightrope of Philippine politics, balancing between the MILF’s legitimacy and the entrenched barons of the Bangsamoro. The Family Alliance, which includes the Mangudadatus, Sinsuats, and other clans, does not give its fealty cheaply.

Mangudadatu’s words were a shot across the bow, a reminder that in Philippine politics, debts — especially electoral ones — are expected to be repaid, at times, with interest.

The 2022 presidential election had settled the question of who truly controlled BARMM’s political machinery, and it wasn’t the MILF. While Murad and his group threw their lot in with then-vice president Leni Robredo, the region’s dynastic overlords delivered the only thing that mattered: cold, hard numbers.

Robredo was beaten black and blue in the BARMM, managing a meager 26.8% of the vote (521,000-plus votes) to Marcos’ 58% (over 1.1 million). So much for the MILF’s fabled grassroots influence.

The message was crystal clear: revolutionary romanticism does not win elections. The MILF may have fought a war, but many, if not most, of the political dynasties — not just in BARMM — have been waging something far more effective: a generational campaign of patronage, control, and even coercion.

The sad reality is that the region, historically, has never been known as a place where votes have been credibly won. In many areas there, votes were harvested, cultivated like crops by political families who have mastered the art of machine politics.

The region, sadly, has a long record of unmaking election campaigns. In 2011, Juan Miguel “Migz” Zubiri stepped down from the Senate after a protracted legal battle with Koko Pimentel over “dagdag-bawas” allegations in the 2007 elections, where the Maguindanao territory played a prominent role. Zubiri maintained his innocence as he denied any personal knowledge and hand in the alleged vote-rigging. He and Pimentel eventually reconciled.

Prior to that, the “Hello, Garci” scandal exposed the inner workings of power in Mindanao, with then-president Gloria Macapagal Arroyo caught on tape allegedly instructing an election commissioner to manipulate results. Arroyo’s rival, the late “King of Philippine Movies” Fernando Poe Jr., lost. Maguindanao and BARMM’s precursor figured prominently in that controversy, too.

Today, BARMM exists in an uneasy détente between the MILF and the political clans that still pull the levers of real power. The former rebels, now in government, are governing with the very forces they once fought against.

The transition from the old Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao to BARMM was heralded as progress, but in reality, it was merely a change of uniforms. The MILF inherited power, but the dynasties never left.

Murad, steeped in the ideological rigidity of the old struggle, failed to make the accommodations hoped for by the well-entrenched political clans. The MILF chairman, for all his revolutionary pedigree, was seen by many, including the majority of BARMM’s governors, as ineffective in this role. That could explain why a coalition of provincial governors wanted him out, and had even prepared to field Sulu Governor Sakur Tan as their bet for the BARMM leadership until the Supreme Court ruled to exclude Tan’s province from the region.

In contrast, Murad’s MILF comrade, Macacua, is seen as a man who understands the game and knows how to dance. His appointment was not a reward but a compromise. It was a peace offering designed to somehow appease and keep as many BARMM political dynasties as possible in the administration’s camp before the May elections.

Macacua’s appointment as BARMM’s second interim chief minister was almost immediately greeted as a welcome development by Lanao del Sur Governor Mamintal Adiong Jr., a key figure in the BARMM Grand Coalition, which had initially planned to field Tan for the region’s top post.

At its core, this is about control — because, in the end, what else is there? The Marcos administration is keen on ensuring that BARMM doesn’t devolve into a breeding ground for opposition forces come midterms. After all, in a territory that can make or break campaigns, the stakes are far too high for such a loose cannon to roam free.

Simply put, the Marcos administration cannot take the risk of letting BARMM slip from its grasp. It will either secure victory or ensure that defeat there, should it come, is rendered meaningless.

The end goal is to secure the Senate, eliminate threats, and guarantee that the impeached one, Vice President Sara Duterte, is removed and barred from the 2028 playing field for good. That can only happen if the impeachment court, the next Senate majority, would convict her.

Her removal and permanent disqualification from public office would mark the death knell for the Duterte dynasty at the national level. Sara is the last remaining Duterte card in play. Beyond her and her detained father, there’s not a single Duterte who could even begin to fill the void.

In a country where political grudges can become eternal, defeat in the midterms is an outcome the Marcoses cannot afford. Such a failure will have political as well as existential consequences.

If the recent viral threats are to be believed, failure will not just cost the Marcoses power. It will cost them their heads, too. Pastilan. – Rappler.com

Herbie Gomez