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[OPINION] The perils of political idolization: A disinformation strategy

Published Sep 16, 2025 9:49 pm

A few months ago, in an interview with VERA Files, I provided observations regarding their research, which showed how stan-style propaganda had begun to infiltrate Philippine politics.

The case of Guo-Tok was very instructive. Despite facing allegations of money laundering, trafficking, and foreign influence, Alice Guo was not primarily discussed as a public official under scrutiny on TikTok. Instead, a cluster of accounts reframed her through fan-like narratives, including TikTok edits like the chicken meme, or mingling at fiestas, and dancing with locals.

These portrayals were not designed to defend her record or address the allegations against her. They were designed to cultivate admiration and intimacy. Audiences were invited to relate to her as one might to a celebrity. This was not politics in the traditional sense. It was the logic of fandom repurposed for political survival.

The Philippines has long blurred the line between politics and celebrity culture. Joseph Estrada, Manny Pacquiao, and Robin Padilla have all translated their fame into electoral success. What is different in the present moment is the reversal of this trajectory: politicians being manufactured into celebrities online. Snappy short clips, filters, and meme songs are all being utilized.

This inversion carries significant consequences. When celebrities enter politics, their fame precedes their office, though they are still expected to prove themselves through governance. But when politicians are deliberately recast as idols, performance displaces accountability.

In recent weeks, partisan political influencers, especially those associated with the Duterte side, have elevated Cavite congressman Kiko Barzaga as a supposed alternative to Pasig Mayor Vico Sotto.

Sotto’s record is well-documented: transparent, reform-oriented governance with consistent high public approval. Yet instead of debating that record, the strategy has been to construct a competing persona. Barzaga is framed through selective narratives that emphasize boldness, and bravery against corruption.

This tactic echoes what we saw in the case of Guo. It is not a contest of governance but of emotional appeal, the transformation of a politician into an object of admiration. It does help that Cong. Barzaga demonstrates an acumen navigating his own digital presence: He has cat pictures, he has reels, and in many ways, his digital footprint suggests a strong understanding of this fan culture online. 

What makes this tactic powerful is not just its novelty but its familiarity. The very techniques that sustain pop culture fandoms are being deliberately transposed into the political arena. On platforms like TikTok, short-form edits and fancams are used not to explain policy but to highlight a politician’s charisma, a smile at a rally, or a fleeting display of supposed relatability. These clips are optimized for emotional resonance, designed to circulate widely and capture the imagination of audiences who may never read a policy brief or a news report.

Alongside these edits, hashtag campaigns create the illusion of mass enthusiasm. Trending topics appear spontaneous but are often coordinated, engineered to project inevitability. Digital visibility itself becomes persuasive: If something trends, many assume it reflects genuine popularity rather than strategic amplification. We've already heard several of our local politicians react to synthetic manipulation like the AI street interview saying if it has high engagement, therefore it must be true—missing the nuance that digital manipulation happens regularly.

Perhaps even more consequential is the cultivation of parasocial intimacy. By selectively revealing aspects of a politician’s daily life, like what they eat, how they greet constituents, and even their moments of levity, audiences are invited into a one-sided relationship. People begin to feel that they know politicians personally, as though proximity online is equivalent to accountability offline.

The problem is that over time, these techniques build communities that function less like civic groups and more like fan bases. Supporters easily become defenders, treating criticism of the politician as a personal attack.

This is why we see so much bickering online. Fandom logic fully supplants democratic logic: Scrutiny is neutralized, and a politician’s legitimacy rests not on performance in office but on the loyalty of their followers, regardless of their mistakes.

The idolization of politicians must be understood as a form of disinformation tactic. It does not always fabricate falsehoods—it reframes perception in ways that distort our own judgment. It weaponizes the aesthetics of relatability to obscure the realities of governance.

We cannot afford to treat this trend as harmless or temporary. The Guo and Barzaga narratives are not isolated incidents. At this stage, the Guo-tok demonstrated hyper coordination, whereas the Barzaga rise may be a combination of both coordination and political convergence.

But they are all trial runs in a broader playbook designed to immunize officials against accountability and reorient political participation towards emotional loyalty.

If this model persists, along with other tactics of digital manipulation, Philippine politics risks devolving into the logic of fandom entirely. In such a scenario, no record of governance, however strong, will outweigh the power of curated perception and artificial digital noise.

We must stop idolizing politicians. They are not celebrities. They are not objects of admiration. They are public servants entrusted with responsibility. Treating them as idols erodes the very mechanisms of accountability on which democracy depends.

To resist this trend is not to deny the role of personality in politics—that will always exist. But we must be even more aware that there is an active effort to manipulate our choices and skew them just a little bit in favor of political convenience rather than performance.

Admiration, however, cannot be substituted for governance. If we continue down the path of political idolization, we risk dismantling what little remains of democratic accountability. In the future, what will matter is who commands the loudest fandom, who dominates the algorithm, and who can transform politics into performance. George Orwell once warned that “power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.” This is precisely what political idolization attempts: reshaping citizens into admirers, stripping them off their critical faculties.

Do we still see ourselves as citizens of a democracy, or have we already accepted our place as fans in the manufactured reality politicians have made?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the opinions of PhilSTAR L!fe, its parent company and affiliates, or its staff.