BEING RABIDLY pro-administration may have also been a negative factor in the bid of Congressman Prospero Pichay for a Senate seat. So was the fact that for most of his nine years in Congress, he was known chiefly for his unwavering support of the moves to amend the charter.

	PICHAY TV campaign ad [video courtesy of YouTube]

But his ads were certainly no help either, say experts, and in the end their repeated showing only added to his placement bills.

To produce one version of a 30-second ad, German says, a candidate has to shell out from P.5 million to P2 million. Primetime slots cost as much as P252,000 per 30 seconds, or P500,000 per minute.

AC Nielsen says Pichay spent a total of P202.746 million in radio and television spots, making him the top ad spender among the senatorial candidates. But experts say his ad campaign was among the worst of the lot, and not only because it failed to land him in the top 12.

German begs to differ, saying Pichay’s pitch was an “arresting but simple ad, with a very catchy hand signal.”

For sure, the ads tickled the Pinoy funny bone. Its main feature was the play on Pichay’s surname to make it akin to pechay or Chinese cabbage, giving his name more recall. Experts say to some extent the tactic worked, adding that Pichay could have expected an even worse showing if not for that factor.

But although he started the joke at his own expense, Pichay soon lost control of it. “Pichay, itanim sa Senado (Pichay, plant in the Senate),” his main slogan, was transformed into “Pichay, ibaon sa Senado (Pichay, bury him in the Senate)” at corner stores. Others began calling him kinchay (Chinese celery). Still others came up with “Posporo Pichay, ibaon sa hukay (Posporo Pichay, bury him in a grave).” His line, “Pangarap kong tuparin ang pangarap ninyo (I dream of making your dreams come true)” became fodder for text jokes and spoofs. The video website YouTube.com shows various versions of the Pichay ads, mostly of the young making outrageous wishes. The most unkind text message made the rounds just days before the elections. It reported that Pichay died, burnt to a crisp by the summer sun.

One voter’s smart-aleck comment was also a typical reaction to the Pichay ads: “Bakit ko naman iboboto si Pichay, hindi naman siya humingi ng boto ko. Ang hiningi niya, itanim ko siya (Why would I vote for Pichay when he didn’t ask for my vote. He asked only I plant him in the Senate).”

“As a political strategist, I’ll say it (the ad) was foul,” says Tiquia. “The Senate is an institution, not a farm. Pechay has no connection to the Senate. There is dissonance there.” She also questions the Pichay ads’ “pro-Pinoy” tagline and the accompanying fist-on-chest gesture, noting, “Its meaning was not explained. It has no history with the candidate.”

Rico Laguinday, media director of Club Media, which handled the placement strategy of Pichay’s ads on TV and radio, admits the media campaign was flawed. He says, “The ads had problems with content and believability. It was just full of promises. The message to voters was not clear.”

In all the six versions of his ads, Pichay mentioned no strategy on how he will fulfill the wishes of his supporters. Voters, too, have had enough of pangako or promises during elections. But there was a saving grace in the Pichay ads, advertising and political veterans say: the candidate was with ordinary people, unlike other campaigns in the past where candidates banked on the drawing power of big-name stars.

INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH, the three former opposition candidates who joined Team Unity were also among AC Nielsen’s top 12 spenders: Edgardo Angara, Vicente ‘Tito’ Sotto III, and Tessie Aquino Oreta. But only reelectionist Angara, who spent P144 million for his ads, garnered enough votes to guarantee him a few more years at the Senate.

	ANGARA TV campaign ad [video courtesy of YouTube]

Like Sotto and Oreta, Angara used to be heavily identified with the camp of deposed President Joseph ‘Erap’ Estrada; he was even Estrada’s executive secretary up to the time the ex-president was forced out of the Palace and into a barge floating on Pasig River. When news about his, Sotto’s, and Oreta’s defection first surfaced, a derogatory jingle was issued by a faction in the Erap camp, prompting Angara to angrily consider filing a libel suit. Fortunately for him, his ads were more sober in approach. 

Tiquia and German even hail Angara’s ads as the best among those that aired this year. “It’s the most effective and meaningful,” says German. The series of “Ang Gara ng Buhay” ads hammered on Angara’s accomplishments as lawmaker in the fields of education, agriculture, and social services. Angara was number two in the 1992 senatorial elections, a showing hugely powered by his perceived good performance in the Congressional Commission on Education, which set in place reforms in the country’s educational system. “It would be difficult to downplay his achievements,” says Tiquia. “He has a solid track record.”

By contrast, his co-defectors fared badly in this round of elections. Oreta spent P117 million while Sotto forked over P115.9 million. But apparently it wasn’t money well spent; the two former senators are so far behind that even political neophytes Sonia Roco and Cesar Montano are way ahead of them in both official and unofficial tallies. Oreta languishes below the 20th line, while Sotto is barely making it over the 20th. In 1992, when he first ran for the Senate, Sotto topped the race.

Sotto, however, does not have any recall among voters as a lawmaker, unlike Angara. The same is true of Oreta. Experts thus say that at the very least, they should have explained why they switched camps, which was what people were associating with them all throughout the campaign period. Instead, Sotto chose to bank on his “Eat Bulaga!” persona, which apparently did not click with voters who, after the Estrada debacle, seem to have become wary of showbiz personalities in politics. But Oreta made an even bigger mistake, say experts.

It would have been better if she stuck to her supposed accomplishments as a lawmaker, they say, noting that these were harped on in her early ads. But 40 days into the campaign, her “I’m Sorry” ads aired, shocking many. The apology was for her breaking into a jig when the impeachment case against then President Estrada was lost in a Senate vote.

In a television interview a day after the ads aired, Oreta defended her move saying it was meant to “close a chapter in her life,” and to “make a clear accounting” of past events. “I did it, eh,” she said. “I am owning up to it and I’m very sorry for it.”

But German says the “ill-advised apology” only reopened old wounds and past hurts that should have been left alone. “It should have been done at the very start of the campaign, if it was to be done at all,” he says. Besides, German says, many voters are young and may not be familiar with the 2001 impeachment case at all.