Political analysts love a clean narrative. They want a neat war movie where the current president corners his rivals, draws a line in the sand, and systematically dismantles a political dynasty. Commentary across regional columns treats the current rivalry between the Marcos administration and the Duterte clan as a ticking clock, framing the executive branch as perpetually on the verge of missing its moment to strike a decisive blow.
This lazy consensus misses the operational reality of elite politics in the archipelago. Philippine political survival has never functioned through total annihilation. It operates through equilibrium, patronage maintenance, and calculated exhaustion. Expecting Ferdinand Marcos Jr to wage a scorched-earth campaign against Sara Duterte and her network misunderstands the very architecture of how power is secured and sustained in Manila. For an alternative perspective, consider: this related article.
The Myth of the Decisive Window
The prevailing critique argues that the administration squandered its political capital immediately after the 2022 landslide. Commentators point to high approval ratings or congressional maneuvers as wasted opportunities to permanently neutralize the opposition.
This argument rests on a flawed premise. Total political elimination is an American cinematic trope, not a Southeast Asian institutional reality. Philippine governance is a sprawling archipelago of shifting alliances, local warlords, and provincial power blocks. A president who tries to completely crush a major rival faction risks fracturing the fragile coalition that keeps the bureaucracy running. Further reporting on the subject has been published by TIME.
When Marcos assumed office, his mandate was rehabilitation, not revolutionary purges. The strategic imperative was restoring traditional economic technocracy and international alignment, not plunging the nation into a permanent constitutional civil war that would scare off foreign capital.
Understanding the True Game
Look past the daily theater of congressional hearings and public spats. The friction between Malacañang and the Duterte stronghold in Davao is not a prelude to a knockout punch; it is a protracted negotiation over resource allocation, regional protection, and the 2028 succession map.
In this arena, speed is a liability. Moving too aggressively against a deeply entrenched clan risks creating defensive martyrdom, rallying populist sympathy among the rural base, and unifying fractured opposition elements. A seasoned political operator does not destroy an adversary while their regional patronage networks remain intact. You starve them of fiscal lifelines, co-opt their lieutenants, and let internal contradictions pull them apart organically.
Consider how national leaders historically handle regional power houses. Impulsive crackdowns create resistance; patient erosion creates irrelevance.
The Cost of Perpetual Confrontation
Foreign observers often demand aggressive legal and institutional warfare against political opponents as a metric of reform. This view ignores the collateral damage. Every month spent consumed by vendetta politics is a month diverted from pressing economic vulnerabilities, agricultural modernization, and infrastructure bottlenecks.
Marcos understands that the domestic and international business communities care infinitely more about regulatory consistency and energy security than about political jail cells. By refusing to take the bait of total confrontation, the administration maintains a veneer of institutional normalcy that foreign direct investment requires.
The critics are asking the wrong question. The issue is never whether Marcos missed his chance to stop the Dutertes. The real question is why anyone believes a modern Philippine president would ever want to completely eliminate the very mechanism of transactional governance that defines the republic.
Power in Manila is rented, not owned. The smart play is managing the rival, not burying them.
