If the fandom of a group like BTS is an army, when does it go to war, and against whom? Katrina G. Gomez-Chua, reacting to my last column, clarified: ARMY “also stands for ‘Adorable Representative MC for the Youth,‘ which was coined in 2013 when BTS themselves were still teenagers,” she explains. So belligerence isn’t the point, and certainly not against other fandoms—the image, whether real or cultivated (then again, is there any meaningful difference between the two?), after all, is of humble, responsible, peaceful youngsters. But action? That can be desirable—against intrinsic evils no one can possibly be for: hunger, violence, disease. But not, perhaps, politics? That would be too divisive.

In December 2024, Girls’ Generation’s song “Into the Light” became the anthem of the antimartial law protests that swept the then president of South Korea out of office. K-pop stars IU and Yuri funded hot packs and meals for protesters during impeachment rallies, while NewJeans sent kimbap and coffee; others, like Yves of Loona and GOT7’s Jay B, tweeted messages and liked posts suggesting support for impeachment. Others were more discreet, but subtly communicated their position to their fans by encouraging people to “dress warmly.” Fandoms were mobilized to attend rallies: their combined lightsticks became a symbol of national unity; even some of BTS’ fandom, its ARMY, went, waving a “Leave HYBE” banner, referring to the management of the group.

Interestingly, the emotions of those antimartial law days lingered on: Saturday’s BTS event wasn’t all roses; some fandoms criticized the government for forgetting the groups that stuck their necks out for democracy, while rolling out the red carpet for BTS. Even the prime minister came in for criticism when he commented that the lightsticks at the BTS event reminded him of the impeachment rallies.

I’ve thought for some time that fandoms are part of the new politics, however it turns out. I first noticed this in 2020 when then Vice President Leni Robredo thanked fans of Bang Yedam and Blackpink for mobilizing to support typhoon relief and rehabilitation efforts. Positive in orientation, self-organized and thus, self-activating, they are primed for civic action.

As indignant BTS fans told me, reacting to my Monday opinions, it’s all about the music—it’s what brings them together. An interesting side phenomenon of the fandoms of today is that they’re largely focused on foreign and not domestic acts. I have a theory: this is a side effect of the collapse of the domestic film and music industries, the slow aging and disappearance of TV as a mass medium, and the similar disappearance of mass media. The personalities still able to draw on star power for politics are increasingly older; no one is rising to match their drawing power. There will never be another Loren Legarda, and the Tulfos will be the last transitioning from media to political leadership. The dynasts are left, but they are only as good as the boundaries of their provincial baronies: they are increasingly unable, as well, to break through to achieving a national standing for lack of a suitable large platform on which to get recognized.

Here at home, the face of modern political communications was “AlDub.” AlDub’s innovations in communications and those in political communications were watched keenly. As I described it six years ago, “At a certain time, key accounts will tweet the message or hashtag for the day, and it will then be taken on and tweeted in turn by a cascading series of fan clubs, all looking to the big accounts for their cue … The result is the communications juggernaut that AlDub became, particularly around 2015 to 2017.”

Back in 2020, a member of this network told me they were already on their “seventh wave” of scholarships, having a book club conducting book drives for public school kids, and typhoon relief when needed.

What then are political parties supposed to do? What case can be made for membership in a political party in this day and age? This is part of a larger crisis, if you want to call it that, of association. Once, tasked with talking to overseas Filipino worker (OFW) associations in Western Europe, I was startled to discover that many of their leaders were former local level politicians—councilors, mayors—who’d gone abroad and established themselves as community leaders among OFWs. I recall some years back, on the sidelines of a talk I gave to Rotarians, they bewailed the lack of interest in the generation of their children, who found social media a far more useful means for networking than civic organizations.

Reformers keep harping on the need for a party system when I’ve been arguing our 1987 setup is poisonous to party building, as it gives no practical incentives for party loyalty. You cannot rise through the ranks: our parties are torsos without legs, because our Constitution forbids the most basic of our political institutions, the barangay, from being “political.” There is no reason then for “grassroots”; there is nowhere to rise, because what exists presupposes a certain level of influence or prominence unachievable except through inheritance or subordination to the higher-ups who call the shots.