In the scramble to explain the administration’s electoral losses in Mindanao during the May 12 midterm elections, some quarters have conveniently chosen a scapegoat: Special Assistant to the President Anton Lagdameo.
But blaming Lagdameo is like blaming the fire marshal for a blaze lit elsewhere. The truth is, the political fallout was already set in motion long before the ballots were cast—and far beyond the scope of Lagdameo’s control.
To begin with, the national landscape was already in disarray. The 2025 General Appropriations Act was marred by corruption allegations, exposing a level of rot in government budgeting that deeply offended the public.
The impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte, widely seen as a power play by rivals within the administration, fractured the base and alienated one of the most loyal and potent political blocs in the country.
Then came the moment that shook Mindanao to its core: the surrender of former President Rodrigo Duterte to the International Criminal Court.
It wasn’t just a legal development—it was a psychological rupture, a gut punch to a region that saw PRRD not just as a president but as a symbol of pride and identity. That image alone galvanized sympathy, resentment, and disillusionment, reshaping the electoral terrain overnight.
Layered on top of these crises was the glaring reality that the administration itself was divided at the local level. Instead of presenting a united front, the Partido Federal ng Pilipinas (PFP) of President Bongbong Marcos and the Lakas-CMD of Speaker Martin Romualdez fielded competing slates—officially or unofficially—in many localities.
What should have been a consolidated pro-government force became a fractured, self-cannibalizing mess.
Caught in the middle, local candidates focused less on promoting the administration’s senatorial lineup and more on their own political survival.
Intra-coalition rivalries took precedence over national messaging. With divided loyalties and competing allegiances, even the strongest national endorsement was diluted.
In the face of all these complications, to lay the blame on SAP Lagdameo is not just unfair—it’s lazy.
He is neither a campaign manager nor a local warlord. He is a strategist, a coordinator, and a steady operator within the Office of the President.
His job is not to shake every hand in Mindanao or broker every local alliance. That duty belongs to the local political leaders who were either too divided or too distracted to do so.
The insinuations that Lagdameo acted as a “dual agent” are pure political fiction. Sultan Kudarat Gov. Pax Ali Mangudadatu may have his personal grievances, but these should not be used to malign a public servant who has consistently remained professional, loyal, and laser-focused on implementing the President’s agenda.
SAP Lagdameo’s value lies precisely in what he doesn’t do—he doesn’t grandstand, doesn’t play palace politics, and doesn’t seek the limelight. He delivers behind the scenes, across party lines, without fanfare. In a time of ego-driven politics, his quiet competence is rare.
Calls for his resignation are not only misplaced—they’re counterproductive.
If this administration is serious about a post-election reset, it must first confront the fractures within its own coalition, the missteps in its national strategy, and the deafening silence in the face of Mindanao’s grievances.
Anton Lagdameo is not the problem. The problem lies in the palace intrigues, the botched political calculations, and the arrogance of those who thought Mindanao’s loyalty could be taken for granted.
The real reset begins not with Lagdameo stepping aside—but with others finally stepping up. From:
From FILIPINO BY HEART
