Soc Just Res (2011) 24:168–190 DOI 10.1007/s11211-011-0131-x
Theory and Methods of a Representational Approach to Understanding Social Movements: The Role of the EDSA Revolution in a National Psychology of Protest for the Philippines James H. Liu • Cecilia Gastardo-Conaco
Published online: 14 June 2011 Ó Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2011
Abstract Three studies used the symbolic theory of history and identity to examine the impact of social representations of the 1986 EDSA I ‘‘People Power’’ revolution on participation in subsequent protest social movements in the Philippines. Study 1 found that in 4 state universities scattered across the archipelago of the Philippines, the first EDSA revolution was nominated as the most important event in Filipino history, and formed part of a narrative moving from authoritarian to democratic rule. Study 2 employed a mixed convenience sample of university students and adults to show that a measure of historical fatalism, or cynicism about the ability of EDSA I to produce lasting social change together with low identification with the social movement predicted lack of passive behavioral participation in the social movement that overthrew President Estrada in the EDSA II revolution. The importance of removing Estrada (derived from an expectancy–value/ cost–-benefit analysis formulation) was the best predictor of active behavioral participation. Study 3 showed that historical fatalism was the best predictor of behavioral intentions to actively participate in an attempt to overthrow Estrada’s successor President Arroyo, whereas anger was the best predictor of passive behavioral intentions among university students. Results suggest an exhaustion of goodwill from Filipinos, who no longer believe that People Power can force positive change against endemic corruption in national governance.
J. H. Liu (&) Centre for Applied Cross Cultural Research, School of Psychology, Victoria University of Wellington, PO Box 600, Wellington, New Zealand e-mail:
[email protected] C. Gastardo-Conaco University of the Philippines-Diliman, Diliman, Philippines e-mail:
[email protected]
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Keywords Social representations Social identity theory Social movements History Dual pathways model Symbolic theory of history and identity People power EDSA revolution
Introduction Before Solidarity, before the Orange Revolution, and the popular movements that led to the end of the Soviet block and are rocking the Arab world today, the people of the Philippines in 1986 amazed the world with a peaceful social movement that took to the streets of Manila and led to the overthrow of then President and dictator Ferdinand Marcos. In the 20 years that have followed, the EDSA revolution (named after the street where the main events took place) has become a powerful symbol of ‘‘People Power’’ that is invoked by ambitious military officers, petty politicians, and social reformers alike as they maneuver for popular support (Montiel, 2010). A non-violent, quasi-popular form of coup has now become a semi-regular feature of Filipino politics. A second EDSA revolution in 2001 led to the overthrow of a second President (Joseph ‘‘Erap’’ Estrada on charges of corruption), and there have been numerous other unsuccessful attempts to use mass movements to oust the ruler/ruling party. What role does the EDSA revolution play as a political symbol for the Republic of the Philippines? And how can social scientists capture aspects of the popular representation of EDSA that illuminates how it functions within a political psychology of the Filipino people? This article uses the theory and methods of social representations of history (Liu & Hilton, 2005) to empirically ascertain the symbolic landscape of a nation and its role in deriving attitudinal measures that complement the existing social psychological literature on how and why people participate in mass social movements (e.g., Oegema & Klandermans, 1994; Reicher, 1984; Simon et al., 1994). According to Liu and Hilton (2005; see also Hilton & Liu, 2008; Liu & La´szlo´, 2007), history functions as a symbolic reserve wherein widely known and emotionally charged events and people from the past can be invoked as part of a narrative to justify and explain current political agendas (see also Olick & Robbins, 1998; Reicher & Hopkins, 2001; Schwartz, 1996). This invocation of the past in public discourse about the present and future is described by sociologist Barry Schwartz (1996, p. 911) as evoking both a model of society, faithfully describing the past, and a model for society, symbolically reconstructing the past in a way that provides guidelines for the present and future (see Olick & Robbins, 1998 for a review of the sociological literature). The challenges of the present bring new life to historical representations by activating them to provide emotionally charged knowledge and beliefs from a society’s collective knowledge and wisdom of its past in the context of providing solutions to current but perennial issues. They become a culture-specific source of legitimizing ideologies (or myths, see Sidanius & Pratto, 1999), which translates traditional authority (Weber, 1968) into contemporary forms whereby they exert influence on individual behavior in a dynamic rather than static way (Moscovici & Markova, 1998). Tyler’s (2006) recent review emphasized the system stabilizing properties of perceptions of psychological legitimacy and their work in producing deference
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toward established authority. Recent study on a legitimizing ideology constructed from historical representations in New Zealand (Sibley, Liu, Duckitt, & Khan, 2008) found exactly such effects for an ideology of ‘‘historical negation.’’ This involved discourses denying (versus affirming) the relevance of the past in determining resource allocations between Whites (some of whom would be descendents of settlers during the colonial period) and Maori indigenous people colonized by them that accounted for up to 80% of the variance in policy preferences on social issues crucial to the nation. This resonates with findings from research on collective guilt showing a dynamic relationship between the framing of history, strength of social identifications at the individual level, and the experience/ acceptance of collective guilt (e.g., Doosje, Branscombe, Spears, & Manstead, 1998; Roccas, Klar, & Liviatan, (2006); Wohl, Branscombe, & Klar, 2006). The operation of ‘‘historical negation’’ was theorized to function as a culture-specific symbolic resource legitimizing White privilege while simultaneously defending the majority against accusations of racism (Liu, Wilson, McClure, & Higgins, 1999). By contrast, the centrality of the EDSA revolution to a national psychology of the Philippines provides a very different sort of cultural resources and constraints with deep potential to be destabilizing rather than stabilizing of authority. This signal event concerns the right of a people to legitimately overthrow its government if it is too corrupt. Just what ‘‘too corrupt’’ is in a country familiar with endemic levels of corruption like the Philippines is a topic of fierce debate. Liu and Sibley (2009) argue that the way social representations of history work in public policy debate is that different political leaders or political factions attempt to interpret the same widely shared and emotionally resonant historical events and figures in different ways as part of the process of justifying and explaining their visions for the present and future. These debates in the political arena are reflected and refracted by talk in everyday society (see Sibley & Liu, 2004; Sibley, Liu, & Kirkwood, 2006 for empirical demonstrations). Hence, Liu, Sibley, and Huang (under review) argue that attitudes toward major issues facing society are anchored within and filtered through the relevant historical representations prevalent in a society that (following Malinowski) they call ‘‘charters’’ (see also Hilton & Liu, 2008). The regular invocation of historical events with ‘‘charter status’’ (that is, a widely shared narrative of history centering around particular historical symbols that define rights and obligations for the group) in public discourse embeds attitudes toward new challenges facing society within a framework established by the historical charter through a process of contestation and communication as outlined by Moscovici (1988), and detailed in the symbolic theory of history and identity (Liu & Sibley, 2009). To return to the issue at hand, the actual event of the original EDSA mass movement in 1986 created ripples of collectively shared cognition and emotion throughout Filipino society that became amplified and reified through communication (see Rime´, 2007). In time, the event became embedded within societal institutions, like educational curricula and monuments commemorating and recounting the uprising. Over a period of time, the event is regularly invoked by politicians, the military, and lay people (Montiel, 2010) to justify their political agendas and explain their political views (most saliently, to criticize and call the government to account for corruption). Talk around EDSA may form part of a
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historically mandated charter for articulating fresh responses (e.g., new protest movements) against government corruption. In other words, a legitimizing ideology constructed around the historical representation of EDSA can be invoked to justify civil resistance and legitimize protest against the authority of the government. From a relative deprivation theory perspective, it could increase perceptions of group efficacy and resentment against authorities (see Mummendey, Kessler, Klink, & Mielke, 1999). Such a function of legitimizing ideology would appear to be rather culture-specific and novel theoretically, and so the remainder of this article articulates empirical means through which such a theoretical account might be substantiated. However, first, we review relevant social science literature on social movements that provides a culture-general overview of previous research. A Dual Pathway Model of Social Movement Participation Social psychologists led by Bernd Simon and Stefan Stu¨rmer (Simon et al., 1998; Stu¨rmer, Simon, Loewy, & Jorger, 2003) have drawn from the literature in sociology (e.g., Oegema & Klandermans, 1994) and social identity theory (e.g., Drury & Reicher, 2005; Reicher, 1984) to argue that at least two independent factors contribute to participation in social movements. The first, articulated comprehensively by Oegema and Klandermans (1994), is a cost–benefit analysis of the normative rewards and costs of participation. In line with an expectancy–value formulation, motivation to participate is conceived as a multiplicative function of the perceived value of the goals of the social movement, and the subjective expectation that these goals will be reached. However, as noted by Klandermans (2002) social movements suffer from the problem of social dilemmas, wherein collective public good is achieved by everyone participating, but each individual is best served by free riding and letting other people do the work. Once a public good is achieved through protest, typically the benefits are available to everyone (as in the case of overthrowing a dictator, for example). Hence, the second pathway to participation is social identification with the movement. Through a process of depersonalization and self-categorization (Turner, Oakes, Haslam, & McGarty, 1994), personal interests are identified with group interests, and the individual becomes part of a group both cognitively and emotionally (Drury & Reicher, 2005; Reicher, 1984). Rational individual-level processes are hence complemented by a feeling of ‘‘we-ness’’ based on emotional and subjective attachment to the in-group rather than a calculation of personal costs and benefits. Simon et al. (1998), Stu¨rmer et al. (2003), Klandermans (2002), and Kelly and Breinlinger (1996) all found (albeit in different combinatorial forms) that both social identification and cost– benefit analysis contributed as predictive factors to participation in a variety of social movements. Culture-Specific Influences on Social Movements The influences on participation in the dual pathway model can all be described without recourse to culture. That is, regardless of what social movement is being studied in what country, the same predictive variables can be applied. There are
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reasons to believe that such an approach may be incomplete. In his classic article on crowd behavior where he deconstructs traditional notions of the uncontrolled nature of a ‘‘riot,’’ Reicher (1984) cites Moscovici’s (1981) study on social representations which says that ‘‘mass behavior is characterized by the persistence of mythologized representations of the past.’’ He argues further that ‘‘the concept of identification and its related representations as a basis for crowd action provides a powerful conceptual tool’’ (p. 3). Reicher’s (1984) take on social identity theory emphasizes shared meaning: ‘‘the importance of all these assertions [in post-event interviews of ‘‘riot’’ participants] lies not in their truth or otherwise, but rather in what they reveal about the meaning of the concept of community to participants’’ (p. 18). What social representations of history add are precisely the dimensions of shared meaning that a collective can draw upon to spontaneously (or purposefully) generate the content of social norms that allow them to act as a group in situations where there has been little room for explicit planning and organization. Both the original EDSA ‘‘revolution’’ and EDSA II are prime examples of collective acts by a people, a spontaneous combustion of the Filipino people to decisively act upon a festering social problem. Filipino sociologist David (2002) underscored the significance of EDSA for the nation thus: ‘‘EDSA was about a people mustering collective will and courage to bring down a dictatorship by a direct manifestation of its power. That power drew its force from nothing more than the certainty of its moral message. It was otherwise basically unarmed. The message it embodied was simple: There is a limit to the abuse of power. For grossly enriching themselves at the expense of the nation, and for causing untold oppression and suffering to the Filipino people, the Marcoses and their cronies deserved to be the target of the people’s outrage and must be booted out of office.’’ (pp. 32–33) David noted the ‘‘failure of the snap election produced the peculiar combination of a passive military mutiny and an active non-violent civilian uprising.’’ (p. 344) He went on further to compare the significance of EDSA to the 1896 revolution that brought Philippine independence from the Spanish colonizers. The EDSA ‘‘historical charter,’’ in a sense, is derived from the ‘‘charter’’ of the original Philippine revolution of 1896: that a mass uprising is the last recourse and the only viable alternative for a people left with no other choices by an oppressive regime. The difference between EDSA and the 1896 revolution is the serendipitous discovery of people power precluding the need for violence and bloodshed. This norm was subsequently invoked when the call for EDSA II came. The impeachment trial of President Estrada has been compared to the 1986 snap election which triggered the events leading to EDSA I. The failure and adjournment of the impeachment trial on its 24th day led to EDSA II. The Philippine revolution of 1896 and the two EDSAs are linked together by virtue of the ‘‘legitimizing myth’’ or ideology regarding the right of the people to rise up against tyranny and corruption. As a Filipino political scientist noted, ‘‘If EDSA 1 gave the nation its second chance for the restoration and consolidation of Filipino democracy, EDSA 2 is the nation’s third chance to reform its electoral democracy and seriously bring about substantive democracy.’’ (Abueva, 2001, pp. 96–97) The method employing social representations of history is a multi-step process. In accord with standard procedures in social representations theory
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(see Liu & Sibley, 2009; Wagner & Hayes, 2005), the first step is qualitative, and that is to ascertain the representations of history prevalent among different segments of a society. Most typically we use survey using open-ended questions (Huang, Liu, & Chang, 2004; Liu, Lawrence, Ward, & Abraham, 2002; Liu, Wilson, McClure, & Higgins, 1999). In New Zealand, we have used also archival analysis of mass media (Liu & Mills, 2006), and discourse analysis of written text (Kirkwood, Liu, & Weatherall, 2005). Accordingly, in Study 1, we describe social representations of history for the Philippines, focusing attention on the position of the EDSA revolution in Filipino narratives of history (Liu & La´szlo´, 2007). In the second step, attitudinal measures derived from historical representations are used to predict behavior. For instance, Liu et al. (1999) found that in New Zealand, attitudes toward history predicted support for social policies like teaching a minority (Maori) language in schools, and whether payments to an indigenous group for historical injustices should be full and final. Huang et al. (2004) found that attitudes toward a historically important figure (Chiang Kai-Shek) predicted the vote in a recent Taiwanese Presidential election even after controlling to a number of variables like party identification. In the most sophisticated study of this type, Sibley et al. (2008) found that a scale measuring historical negation, with statements either warranting or denying the relevance of history to the present, predicted a majority of the variance in policy preferences toward symbolic and realistic policy issues concerning the two largest ethnic groups in New Zealand. Ideally, qualitative study should be done before the quantitative scale construction, but this has not always been possible. In Studies 2 and 3, we generate and apply attitudinal scales derived from the historical representations ascertained in Study 1, and add them to the predictive variables selected from the dual pathway model of Simon, Stu¨rmer and colleagues. We hypothesize that these culture-specific measures of attitudes toward and beliefs about history add additional predictive utility on top of the measures specified in the dual pathway model by adding legitimizing ideologies to the dual pathways model of social movement participation in the second EDSA revolution. Such legitimizing ideologies are intimately connected to justice motivations that are not easily reduced to either individual-level cost–benefit analysis or group-level collective identification processes, rooted as they are to representations of the historical experiences of a particular society.
Study 1: Social Representations of Filipino History The Philippines is a highly diverse island archipelago nation consisting of more than 90 million people with many languages/dialects across a span of more than 7,000 islands. The first step for a representational theory is to ascertain commonalities and differences between social representations of history across a range of ethnic and regional groups inhabiting the Philippines using open-ended methods. From this, overall shape of the historical narrative for the nation and the representational status of EDSA can be ascertained.
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Method Participants A total of 302 students from four state universities across the Philippine archipelago (Metro Manila, Munoz in Nueva Ecija, a part of Central Luzon, Cebu in the Visayan Islands, and Lanao del Sur in Mindanao) participated in the survey in 1998. Each of these regions are distinct geographically and ethnically. Overall, there were 129 non-locals (that is, students born and raised in another province) and 173 locals across the four locations. Seventy-six participants from the Manila sample were locals and 35 were non-locals, 49 from Munoz were locals and nine were nonlocals, 31 from the Visayas were locals and 22 were non-locals, and 32 from Mindanao were locals and 27 were non-locals (the remainder did not provide this information). There were a total of 214 females and 88 males in the sample. Ages ranged from 16 to 48 years with a mean of 19.5 years. They were all Filipino nationals with only one born outside the country. Participants were enrolled in various majors (arts, social sciences and sciences, in both basic and applied fields of study). Materials A seven page questionnaire consisting of a combination of structured and openended questions was used. The first section of the questionnaire asked for demographic information. Most relevant to the current study, the next section asked respondents to list the seven most important events the history of the Philippines using open-ended response measures (see Huang et al., 2004; Liu et al., 1999, 2002). The prompt read: ‘‘Imagine that you are a secondary school teacher assigned to develop a course outline for teaching History in the Philippines. The first thing you need to do is to decide what you think are the seven most important events in Philippine History. These are events every child growing up should know about. Such a list will help to design lesson plans in the future. So please write down each event (these events could have taken place over a period of many years or at a single moment in time) in the list below.’’ Participants were asked to write a brief description after each nominated event. Then, they were also asked to write in the names of the most important figures in the history of the Philippines and rate them on a seven-point Likert scale, ranging from admire greatly (7) to do not admire at all (1). The final section contained a variety of Likert scales on several issues, including views on leaders, other cultures, national as well as provincial identity, and the national language. These are not analyzed in the current study. Procedure The questionnaires were administered to students in English at the different sites during class time. English is the standard medium of instruction in most Philippine universities.
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Soc Just Res (2011) 24:168–190 Table 1 Most important events in the history of the Philippines (Study 1, N = 302)
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Event nominated
% Nominating
1. EDSA (People Power Revolution, 1986)
67
2. Declaration of Martial Law by Marcos, 1972
49
3. Spanish Era (influence & colonization, 1565–1898)
41
4. Declaration of Independence for Philippines, 1898
38
5. American Era (influence & colonization, 1898–1941)
33
6. Japanese Era (influence & colonization, 1941–1945)
29
7. Discovery of Philippines by Magellan, 1521
24
8. Execution of Rizal (Rizal Day), 1896
23
9. Battle of Mactan (Victory of Lapu Lapu, 1521)
17
10. Precolonial Era, before the sixteenth century
16
11. Assassination of Ninoy Aquino, 1983
13
Results The 302 participants generated 1988 total events, an average of 6.1 per person, which were initially coded into 330 discrete events. Some of these initial event codes were judged to be similar and overlapping (e.g., life of Rizal, birth of Rizal), and so these were collapsed into a single category; in particular, various labels used to characterize eras tended to be somewhat diverse. Events were cross-tabulated and the 10 events receiving the most nominations by locals and non-locals in each of the four sample sites were recorded. Surprisingly, these events turned out to be highly similar between locals and non-locals across the four sites (given the presence of an active insurgency in Mindanao, and different languages used in Mindanao and the Visayans as compared to Central Luzon, we had anticipated more variation of historical representations by survey site, especially among locals),1 so the data were collapsed across location and between locals and non-locals to form a single representation of the most important events in the history of the Philippines (see Table 1). The percentage of people nominating each event is shown after the event named. Across all four locations, the most important event in the history of the Philippines, and the only event to be nominated by a majority of participants was the 1986 EDSA people power movement that toppled Marcos. The declaration of martial law that enabled President Marcos to act as a dictator was the second most important event, and the assassination of his political rival Ninoy Aquino (Cory Aquino’s husband) came in 11th place (this is included because the 10th ranked ‘‘event’’ was the precolonial era, which represented a diffuse set of items that could easily have been coded into smaller categories). 1
The data broken down by sample site and local versus non-locals are available on request from the first author.
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176 Table 2 Most important figures in the history of the Philippines (Study 1, N = 302)
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Figure nominated
% Nominating
1. Jose´ Rizal
90
2. Andres Bonifacio
82
3. Ferdinand Marcos
68
4. Ninoy Aquino
37
5. Emilio Aguinaldo
34
6. Lapu Lapu
28
7. Cory Aquino
18
8. Ramon Magsaysay
12
9. Manuel Quezon
11
10. Josef ‘‘Erap’’ Estrada
11
Outside of this cluster of events related to EDSA, a second important cluster of events surrounded the independence of the Philippines from Spanish colonial rule: the martyrdom of poet-writer Jose´ Rizal, which is considered as the birth of an independent Filipino consciousness, and the subsequent declaration of independence from Spain in 1898. Two less central events related to pre-colonial history. Nominations of the most important figures in the history of the Philippines are listed below in Table 2. They fit with the events list like hand in glove. Again, there was little regional variability: the martyred poet and anti-colonial writer Jose´ Rizal who is attributed with awakening Filipino national consciousness was the most important figure in all four locations. Also named were his nineteenth century revolutionary compatriots Andres Bonifacio, credited with leading the revolution against Spain) and Emilio Aguinaldo (5th) who was responsible for the Filipino Declaration of Independence. After these three foundational figures, twentieth century figures instrumental in the EDSA movement dominated the nominations, with the dictator and President Ferdinand Marcos coming 3rd, his assassinated rival Ninoy Aquino 4th, and Aquino’s wife Cory who succeeded Marcos as President after the restoration of democracy 7th. Discussion The ‘‘charter status’’ of EDSA as the most important event in the history of the Philippines was unchallenged across a diverse sample of young adults attending state universities ranging from the Northern to the Southern end of the archipelago. EDSA was the only event nominated by a majority (two-thirds) of participants, far outstripping the second place event which was nominated by half the sample. A narrative structure can be inferred from the events and figures nominated (see Liu & La´szlo´, 2007): EDSA is the culminating symbol of a people’s journey from colonization to independence and democracy. The second-most important event after EDSA was the declaration of martial law by President Ferdinand Marcos that gave him the dictatorial powers that made his overthrow necessary. Extended across time, the story begins with a diffuse set of ‘‘events’’ loosely grouped under
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the pre-colonial era, but this was a minor part of the story. Far more frequently nominated were events related to the modern history of the Philippines, beginning with the ‘‘discovery’’ of the Philippines by Spanish navigator Ferdinand Magellan in 1521. The 300-year Spanish Era of colonization and influence that followed was the third most nominated event in Filipino history, far more popular than the 50 or so year American and 4-year Japanese eras that followed. The most nominated figures date from the struggle for Filipino independence from Spain followed by the actors in the EDSA revolution. This narrative, like that of Taiwan (Huang et al., 2004) is a story of going from colonization to independence, but with a focus on the struggle against inept, corrupt, and unfair authoritarian rule. Hence, EDSA is not only important in its own right, it is the centerpiece in the Filipinos’ story of themselves as being a relatively young people who have emerged from the shadow of Spanish, American, and Japanese colonial rule to autocratic and unjust rule by one of their own (Marcos), attempting to establish themselves as a democratic and free people. Both events and figures nominated were focused on the creation of the contemporary state rather than a more extended, longterm view of distant history. The ‘‘charter status’’ of EDSA as the representational centerpiece of Filipino popular representations of history was confirmed.
Study 2: Participation in a Successful Social Movement: The Second EDSA Revolution in 2001 Having established the representational status of EDSA independently using 1998 data, we then set about demonstrating its symbolic power during the Second EDSA revolution in 2001. In a very similar manner to Marcos, President Joseph Estrada was seen to have proven himself to be egregiously corrupt, beyond the normal standards tolerated of Filipino politicians. He was overthrown by a popular uprising that was less general than the first EDSA, but nevertheless inspired widespread support especially among the middle and upper classes. We hypothesized that attitudes toward EDSA I would exert an independent influence on behavioral participation in EDSA II as a legitimizing ideology even after controlling for the variables demonstrated to be of predictive value from the dual pathway model (Simon et al., 1998; Stu¨rmer et al., 2003). While ideally such attitudes should be measured using statements derived from discourse analytical methods (e.g., Sibley & Liu, 2004), this was deemed too difficult because of language issues; the spoken language of Manila is Tagalog, a Malay language, whereas the language of instruction at universities and in formal political speeches is usually English. Data were collected in the last quarter of 2001, a few months after the ouster of Estrada. Participants There were a total of 179 participants: 62 men and 117 women. Initially, two hundred questionnaires were handed out to graduate and undergraduate students, as well as faculty and staff in four universities in the Metro Manila area by a contact
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person at each of these universities. A total of 179 completed questionnaires were returned to the researchers for a response rate of 88.5%. The mean age was 24.3, with a standard deviation of 8.8. Respondents classified themselves as belonging mainly to the middle class (both upper and lower middle class), although reported incomes were quite low (45% of the respondents had incomes of $500US or less). Only a third had incomes of a thousand US dollars or more. A majority (65%) of the respondents were students and appeared to be largely apolitical. Only 22% voted in the last presidential election. Materials A survey was conducted on participation in EDSA II and the factors that may have influenced such behavior. The nine-page questionnaire looked into representations of history, social identity, leader perceptions and participation in social movements. In the first two pages, participants were asked to respond to a series of seven-point Likert scales on perceptions of history, people power, and personal choices, perceptions of leaders, and social identity. The next six pages looked into the individual’s involvement in People Power 2 at different stages of the event. Six crucial stages in the Estrada ouster were identified, starting with the initial accusation of massive corruption by one of his cronies and ending with the March to Malacanang, the Presidential Palace. For each stage, participants were asked about their level of participation, their concern with the risk of negative consequences, their assessment of likelihood of success of any action taken, their perceptions of other people’s views on these same matters, and their sources of information. In the last page, the respondents were asked to provide some personal data like gender, age, ethnicity, occupation, length of stay in Manila, political party supported, vote in the last presidential election, and monthly family income. Procedure The questionnaires were given to students at several universities in Metro Manila with the instructions to fill one out and to give one questionnaire to one other person who need not be a student. Questionnaires were in English. Measures Sample items and scale reliabilities are given for the survey measures used below (all scales ranged from 1–7 with labeled anchors at the ends): Social Representations of History (EDSA I) Factor analytic techniques were used to derive two factors to attitudes toward history derived from the social representation of EDSA I. The first factor, labeled ‘‘People Power,’’ consisted of three positively worded items with a Cronbach’s alpha for reliability of 0.77, ‘‘EDSA I demonstrated to the whole world that the people of the Philippines can achieve social justice by collective action,’’ ‘‘EDSA I
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showed that the people of the Philippines have the power to determine their own destiny,’’ and ‘‘People Power (EDSA I) has provided the Philippines with a window of opportunity to change the political system for the better.’’ The second factor, labeled ‘‘Historical fatalism’’ consisted of three negatively worded items with an alpha of 0.72: ‘‘People power (EDSA I) does not have any real ability to change the political system of the Philippines,’’ ‘‘The best way to improve things for yourself and your family is to work hard and not bother about political change (like EDSA),’’ and ‘‘Rather than be concerned about corruption in high places, it is better to worry about improving things for yourself and your family.’’ These two factors had a significant but modest negative correlation of -0.27. Social Identification with the Social Movement Four items from the identity subscale of Luhtanen and Crocker’s (1992) collective self-esteem scale were used to measure identification with anti-corruption social movements (sample items included ‘‘I feel strong ties to activist groups to remove corruption from government’’ and ‘‘It is important for me to belong to activist groups to reduce corruption’’). Social movement items were worded generally with respect to anti-corruption because most casual participants would not have been mobilized by formal organizations but rather a general and collective frustration with corruption in government. Reliability was 0.84. Dependent Variables: Passive and Active Participation We identified six major stages of EDSA II where individuals could have participated as follows: Stage 1: Governor Singson accuses Estrada of involvement in jueteng, a corrupt numbers game. Stage 2: Impeachment process initiated in Congress. Stage 3: Senate vote on the opening of an envelope with incriminating evidence against the President stifled. Stage 4: Collective action at EDSA (Days 1 and 2). Stage 5: Defense Secretary Mercado and Chief of Staff Reyes join the opposition forces (Day 3). Stage 6: March to Malacanang (Day 4). We asked ‘‘What was your level of participation in collective action at this stage?’’ Participants could tick up to three boxes for each stage: (1) Passive participation, defined as signing a petition or giving a donation; and (2) Active participation, defined as joining a public rally or public prayer vigil for a period. Only 3% of those sampled participated passively at all six stages, and 1% participated actively in all six stages. Given such skewness (1.9 for passive, 1.4 for active), we decided to create binary participation variables instead of highly skewed continuous variables. Any person who reported participating at any stage during the process received a 1, whereas anyone who did not participate at any stage was scored 0. This gave 32.4% passive participation, and 46.9% active participation dependent variables. Cost–Benefit Analysis Following Oegema and Klandermans (1994), we measured the reward/cost motive by asking at each stage ‘‘How concerned were you about the risk of negative
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consequences, to you or your family, in participating in collective action against Estrada?,’’ and the collective motive with ‘‘How important was it for you to see Estrada removed from government at this stage?’’ To measure expectancy of success, we asked at each stage ‘‘To what extent did you think that collective action against Estrada was likely to succeed in removing him from government?’’ Expectancy times value terms were created by multiplying each motivation with expectancy of success after centering the motivation and expectancy items. Results As Table 3 shows, correlations between the dependent variables and the predictor variables were small. It was difficult to find good predictors for passive participation. The best predictors were that historical fatalism and identification with the anti-corruption social movement had -.19 and .15 (p \ .05) correlations with passive participation, respectively. Active participation was correlated with the importance of removing Estrada (r = .19, p \ .05), the lack of negative consequences in endeavoring to do so (r = .17, p \ .05), and the interaction term between the importance of removing Estrada and the likelihood of success (r = -.25, p \ .01). The subjective perceptions were more strongly correlated with one another, with the importance of removing Estrada being highly correlated with the perceived likelihood of the success of doing so (r = .65**), and attitudes toward people power (EDSA I) (r = .45**), and negatively related to historical fatalism (r = -.23*). Identification with the social movement against corruption was positively correlated with perceived likelihood of success of toppling Estrada (r = .15*). Binary logistic regression analyses with active and passive participation as the dependent variables, respectively, and the aforementioned variables as predictors along with gender and income controls were able to explain a small but significant amount of the variance in the dependent measures. Sex and income were entered as controls in the first block, centered scores of the importance of removing Estrada, concerns about negative consequences for participating, likelihood of success, and the likelihood of success of removing Estrada were entered in the second block. The interaction terms calculated between likelihood of success and importance of removing Estrada and between concerns about negative consequences and likelihood of success were entered in the third block. Social identification with the anti-corruption social movements was entered as the fourth block, and people power and historical fatalism were in the last block. For passive participation, neither of the expectancy value blocks was significant on entry. Social identification with the anti-corruption movement and historical fatalism were both significant predictor variables (B = .338, SE = .15; B = -.354, SE = .155, respectively, at the last step). The social movement and historical variable blocks’ entries in steps 4 and 5 each explained a significant amount of variance in passive participation. The overall regression equation was significant (v2(9) = 24.5, p \ .004), explaining 13.3% of the variance in passive participation according to Cox & Snell’s measure.
123
.28**
.12
.15*
.11
-.11
.10
.15*
-.03
-.19*
0.324 (0.47)
Active
Imp Remove Estrada
Lack of Negative Cons.
Success
IRE 9 Success
LNC 9 Success
Movement Id
People power
Hist fatalism
Means (before centering) (SD)
0.469 (0.50)
-.09
.13
.03
.14
-.25*
.08
.17*
.19*
–
Active (0, 1)
5.4 (1.4)
-.23**
.45**
.14
.15*
-.31**
.65**
-.18*
–
Imp Remove Estrada
* p\.05, ** p\.01
Note: Mean/STD of Fatalism = 2.9(1.2); correlations shown after centering
–
Passive
Passive (0, 1)
3.9 (1.8)
.02
-.05
-.10
.34**
.12
-.14
–
Lack of Neg Cons
Table 3 Correlations between social movement participation and predictor variables (Study 2)
5.4 (1.1)
-.12
.28**
.15*
.23*
-.39**
–
Success likely
–
.02
-.11
-.06
-.27**
–
Rmv 9 Succ
–
.04
.12
-.09
–
Neg 9 Succ
2.2 (1.2)
.02
.05
–
Mov Id
4.3 (1.1)
-.26**
–
People power
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The pattern of effective predictors was exactly the opposite for active participation. Both of the main effects and the interaction expectancy value blocks were significant, and neither the social movement nor the historical variables were significant. The overall model was significant v2(9) = 28.7, p \ .001, explaining 15.4% of the variance in active participation according the Cox and Snell’s measure. The importance of removing Estrada (B = .437, SE = .179), the lack of negative consequences for participating (B = .316, SE = .119), and the interaction between importance and success (B = -.39, SE = .13) were all significant predictors of active participation. For active participation, the addition of social identity and historical variables added nothing to the variance explained by the expectancy-value and demographic control items. Discussion Participation in the EDSA II protest movement that overthrew President Estrada proved difficult to explain using a combination of demographic, expectancy value, social identity, and historical representational variables. Overall, the binary logistic regressions were able to explain around 15% of the variance in active and passive participation. Social movement identification and historical fatalism were significant predictors of passive participation, whereas expectancy value items but not identification or historical beliefs were effective predictors of active participation. It appeared that for Manila residents, active participation (i.e., joining in a rally) was a more carefully calculated act compared to passive participation (i.e., signing a petition or making a donation). This makes sense, given that the costs of active participation could have been extreme had the government elected to use force to eject the protestors. Passive participation, which could be considered as a symbolic show of support for the protest movement, was more closely connected to with social identity and historical representations, suggesting that for student populations, these are relatively low cost ways to demonstrate their group affiliations and belief systems.
Study 3: Participation in a Failed Social Movement: Attempting Arroyo’s Overthrow The overthrow of the Estrada administration did not end the problems of corruption in Filipino governance. In a short period after having taken over the reins of government from Estrada, President Gloria Arroyo’s administration was besieged with charges about corruption and despotism as well. Several attempts at replicating the EDSA revolution to overthrow another allegedly corrupt leader (Arroyo) were attempted but none were successful. Had the ‘‘charter status’’ of EDSA as the most important event in the history of the Philippines somehow waned? The unfolding events of current Philippine history allowed us another chance to test the impact of social representations of history on participation in social movements. Study 2 looked into the impact of attitudes toward EDSA I on participation in EDSA II. Study 3 examined the impact of EDSA I on willingness to participate in
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183
action against fresh charges corruption in the new government that followed. An initial attempt at replicating Study 2, this time looking into participants’ willingness to ‘‘do an EDSA’’ against Arroyo when the ‘‘Hello Garci’’ (i.e., election rigging) scandal exploded was abandoned because of the inability to pinpoint clear stages in the event’s progression. Thus, a survey was designed to look into intentions to participate in actions instead. Given the poor performance of the measures used in Study 2, a more indigenous approach was used, with the elaborate battery of variables related to the cost–benefit analysis replaced by questions deemed by closer to the heart of the Filipino psyche according to indigenous psychologists (Enriquez, 1992): emotions aroused (i.e., anger at corruption and fear of political action) and the Filipino norm of ‘‘kapwa’’ (loosely translated as reliance on significant social referents like family and peers). For Filipinos, social relations are crucial, and emotions are the key mediators of relational closeness. We replaced the rather long and involved cost–benefit analysis items with the indigenous items to keep the overall survey concise. Participants There were a total of 102 students from the University of the Philippines, enrolled in various majors in the arts, sciences, and social sciences, participated in the study. They signed up for the study to obtain laboratory credits in fulfillment of a course requirement in their introductory psychology class. There were 33 males and 69 females. Ages ranged from 15 to 24 with a mean of 18.8 years (SD = 1.5). A majority of the respondents classified themselves as belonging to the middle class, with 54% in the upper middle class and 39% in the lower middle class. Four respondents said they belonged to the lower upper class and one self-classified as upper lower class. Materials A four-page questionnaire, using mainly Likert scales, looked into social representations of history, social identity, leader perceptions and participation in social movements. The first two pages included items on representations of history, social identity and leader perceptions, similar to the questionnaire used in Study 2. The third page looked into the individual’s personal assessments of knowledge about current Philippine issues and intentions to participate in various forms of social action against corruption and corrupt leaders. The last page asked the participants to provide personal data like gender, age, ethnicity, length of residence in Manila, family income, and whether they voted in the last presidential election that saw Arroyo get her electoral mandate as president. Procedure The English questionnaires were administered to students outside class hours at the university campus.
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Measures Predictor Variables 1.
2.
3.
As in Study 2, we used the same items for the Social Representations of History (EDSA I) and Identification with Social Movement. With these items, three indices were created: people power, historical fatalism, and social movement identification. An additional scale, Class Identification, was constructed using the same basic wording of item stems for Social Movement Identification. Two measures of emotions were included—anger (I feel angry about the corruptness of the Arroyo government) and fear (I am afraid to join any political action). Two measures for ‘‘kapwa’’ or subjective norm effects were included—one assessing the political behavior of one’s family (My family would be likely to join protest actions against corrupt presidents) and another assessing one’s peers (My friends are politically apathetic). The second item was reverse-coded.
All the scale reliabilities were satisfactory, ranging from 0.70 to 0.85. Dependent Variables Two indices of participation intentions were created from several scale items. The first was an index of passive participation intention (I am willing to sign petitions against corruption in government; I am willing to listen to an informative lecture about the leadership crisis in the Philippines; I monitor current events by reading the daily papers/watching the news regularly on television) and the second was on active participation intentions (I am willing to March against the excesses of the Arroyo government; I plan to vote in the October barangay elections2; It is my duty as a citizen to protest and join rallies against corruption). The passive participation index had a reliability of .67, and the active participation index had an alpha of .74. Results Table 4 shows correlations between the dependent variables and the predictor variables. Intention to participate in passive actions was positively correlated with anger against corruption (r = .41**) and social movement identification (r = .32**) and negatively correlated with fear of joining any political action (r = -.38**). Intention to participate actively was positively correlated with anger (r = .54 **), with perceptions of the political intentions of one’s family ‘‘kapwa’’ (r = .29**), with social movement identification (r = .64**), and with people power (r = .20*). It was inversely correlated with fear of joining any political action (-.24*) and with historical fatalism (r = -.30**).
2
Voting is relatively uncommon in the Philippines (22% in a recent Presidential election), even with a highly charged electoral atmosphere surrounding the accusations against Arroyo. Therefore, it was used as an indicator of participation.
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.41**
.46**
-.38**
.02
.14
-.05
.32**
.05
-.13
4.17 (.97)
Active
Anger
Fear
Kapwa 1—Peers
Kapwa 2—Family
Class Id
Mov Id
PPower
Fatalism
Mean (SD)
* p\.05, ** p\.01
–
Passive
Passive
2.81 (1.37)
-.30**
.20*
.64**
-.15
.29**
.14
-.24*
.47**
–
Active
3.32 (1.35)
-.21*
.09
.58**
-.07
.34**
.12
-.37**
–
Anger
3.18 (1.79)
.16
.13
-.41**
.01
-.32**
-.05
–
Fear
3.07 (1.48)
-.16
.19
.20
-.10
.01
–
Kapwa 1—Peers
1.62 (1.56)
.01
.24*
.32**
-.02
–
Kapwa 2—Family
Table 4 Correlations between social movement participation and predictor variables (Study 3)
3.68 (1.04)
.02
-.15
-.20*
–
Class Id
2.18 (1.55)
-.20*
.22*
–
Mov Id
2.86 (1.09)
.12
–
People power
2.71 (1.24)
–
Historical fatalism
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Strong identification with social movements was positively correlated with more positive attitudes toward people power (r = .22*), greater anger toward corruption (r = .58**), and ‘‘kapwa’’ who were perceived as more politically involved— family (r = .32**) and peers (r = .20 *). It was inversely correlated, however, with stronger endorsements of class identity (r = -.20*), with fears of political action (r = -.41**), and with historical fatalism (r = -.20*). Hierarchical linear regression analyses with active and passive participation as dependent variables and the predictors noted above were conducted. Sex and income were entered as controls in the first block, the emotion variables (anger and fear) and the ‘‘kapwa’’ items (political involvement of peers and family) were entered in the second block, social identity with class and social movements were included in the third block, and people power and historical fatalism were introduced in the last block. For passive participation, the emotions of anger and fear were the only significant predictors. In model 2 which explained 29.8% of the variance, the standardized b for anger was .43 and that for fear was -.25. Model 3 which included class and social movement identifications only slightly improved explained variance to 30.1% and only anger (standardized b = .41) and fear (standardized b = -.24) were significant. Model 4, adding people power and historical fatalism, hardly improved explained variance (30.8%) and, still, only anger (standardized b = .40) and fear (standardized b = -.27) were significant. Active participation appeared a little more complex. Model 2 for active participation, including the emotions and the ‘‘kapwa’’ items explained 30.9% of the variance, with anger as the sole significant predictor (standardized b = .49). Model 3, incorporating class and social movement identification, improved explanatory variance to 46.5%. Anger was still significant (standardized b = .25) and identification with social movements was also significant (standardized b = .51). Model 4, including people power and historical fatalism, further increased explanatory variance to 50.8% with three significant predictors: anger (standardized b = .23), social movement identification (standardized b = .47) and historical fatalism (standardized b = -.22). Discussion Study 3 demonstrated that behavioral intentions are considerably easier to predict than actions, with the regression equation on intentions to actively participate explaining 50% of the variance in the dependent measure (30% was explained in passive participation intentions). Anger and fear emerged as the best predictors of behavioral intentions for passive participation, whereas anger, social movement identification and historical fatalism were the best predictors of active participation. Thus, while the measures of social influence (kapwa) were not able to contribute independently to explaining variance in behavioral intentions to join a social movement to oust President Arroyo, anger appeared as a useful additional predictor of behavioral intentions. Overall, historical fatalism appeared to be a useful addition to understanding participation (or non-participation) in two EDSA movements, explaining significant amounts of variance in two recent social movements aimed at
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regime change, one successful and one unsuccessful, one predicting behavior and the other behavioral intentions. One possible reason for these differences was that our measures of behavioral intentions in Study 3 were considerably more diffuse than those used in Study 2: passive participation in Study 3 was very passive, including merely monitoring the events, whereas active participation included safe behaviors like election participation. In the case of Study 3, active participation intentions may have indexed more of a symbolic show of support for the protest movement rather than the risky active behaviors measured in Study 2.
General Discussion The first EDSA ‘‘People Power’’ revolution is represented as the most important event in Filipino history, but its legacy to the current Filipino political system is mixed. Contrary to what might be hoped, a measure of belief in the ‘‘People Power’’ of EDSA I was not an independent predictor of either participation or participation intentions in social protest movements. Rather, it was a measure of historical fatalism, or belief that EDSA and similar social movements are an ineffective means of reducing corruption in government that was a significant negative predictor of passive behavioral participation in the EDSA II movement that unseated President Estrada, and a significant negative predictor of active participation intentions to unseat President Arroyo (his successor). We interpret this to mean that it is lack of cynicism, not faith about the effectiveness of People Power that is the more powerful interpretation of EDSA that motivates social movement participation; or alternatively, passivity in the face of the frequent abuses of power by elites in the Filipino political system is anchored in historical fatalism about the ability of the people to produce genuine change. It may be fair to say that the Filipino people seem fed up with their politicians, with so many of the latter having serious allegations of corruption against them, but see few alternatives. Soon after his ouster, Estrada began planning another run at the Presidency after receiving a Presidential pardon from Arroyo for his previous sins; another previously convicted coup d’etat instigator was sitting on the Senate (Gringo Honasan) and also contemplating a run at the Presidency. EDSA might be considered, in Tom Tyler’s terms, as an historical symbol that depletes the ‘‘reservoir of support’’ (p. 381) for the Filipino government that itself has lost efficacy in terms of Filipinos believing in social movement as a means of reducing corruption (see van Zomeren, Postmes, & Spears, 2008). Identification with the anti-corruption social movement (generally defined) had predictive utility for passive participation in Study 2, and active participation intentions in Study 3. respectively the problem for Filipinos is that these are diffuse social movements, capable of organizing resistance to corruption at particular historical junctures, but unable to offer viable alternatives that enable enduring social change against an entrenched culture of corruption. The process of identifying with anti-corruption social movements has not led to these movements developing sufficient organizational content to enable effective reform. This
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perhaps led to the finding in Study 3 where anger was the most consistent predictor of social movement participation. However. this may be ‘‘anger with a cause, but without direction,’’ and thus not necessarily empowering (see van Zomeren et al., 2008, p. 525). These findings probably reflect complex political machinations by political elites leading to a lack of clear group identity around these social movements; in EDSA II, for example, it was alleged by some that it was middle- and upper-class interests who were bent on getting rid of Estrada, whereas the lower-classes still supported him, but others attempted to refute such claims. Even more sinister, there are elements within the military that regard EDSA as a symbol of their right to overthrow of democratically elected governments (Montiel, 2010). Rather than be a ray of hope motivating social action for clean government, one interpretation of the present findings is that the EDSA social movements have become tainted with sectarian suspicions that they are just another tool in the maneuvering of political and military elites (Montiel, 2010). The most predictive discourse inhibiting social movement participation is that whoever is in power, and regardless of what means the people use to overthrow them, the same system of corruption will stay in place. It is the anti-thesis to the types of empowerment described by Drury and Reicher (2005) where a collective sense of efficacious identity emerged through a process of both victory and defeat for a small social movement in England. Our findings contrast sharply with elite and mass media accounts that position EDSA I as a shining hope for Filipinos (e.g., Abueva, 2001; David, 2002). However. it accords with Marxist interpretations that regard the EDSA movements as bourgeois-led actions not aimed at system change, but used to circulate elites. Such interpretations are supported by evidence such as the 2008 Transparency International Corruption Index, where the Philippines ranked 141 of 180 countries with a score of 2.3 out of 10, a drop of a full point from its score of 3.3 (55th out of 85 countries) 10 years earlier. In Study 1, it was shown that the first EDSA revolution occupies an important place in the ‘‘historical charter’’ (Hilton & Liu, 2008) of the Philippines as the most important event in its history within an overall narrative of development from authoritarian to democratic rule. In terms of an indigenous psychology for the Philippines, future research into how such representations are infused with interpretations (like historical fatalism) and interpersonal emotions (like anger). The centrality of anger in Study 3 (positively correlated with social movement participation, negatively correlated with historical fatalism, and an independent predictor of intentions) suggests that the recent trend toward more differentiated, appraisal-oriented theories of intergroup identity and emotions (Mackie, 2003) may be profitably applied to the Philippines. More carefully controlled studies would be needed to ascertain whether anger takes on the mediation role suggested emotion appraisal theories, or acts as driver of behavior associated with social relational constructs like kapwa. It seems that for Filipino people, emotions are an important correlate of participation in mass movements, but the emotions that people are willing to invest in mobilizing in their most powerful historical symbol EDSA to produce genuine
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social change, are in turmoil. For now, the dream, as a modern-day sage once sang, is over. Acknowledgments The authors wish to thank Cristina Montiel for helpful comments on a previous draft of this article, and Rebekah Goldstein-Hawes for statistical support for Study 1.
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