Chavit, in fact

Luis “Chavit” Singson is no ordinary Filipino political figure. He is a living legend whose life reads like a telenovela filled with drama, scandal, power, politics and a dash of celebrity flair. In Chavit: Legend of the Philippines, the reader is granted a front-row seat to this larger-than-life journey, told through a uniquely structured memoir that mixes biographical elements with the intimacy of a candid interview.

What makes this book, which will be launched officially at the Peninsula Manila on Friday at 6 PM, stand out from other political memoirs is its question-and-answer format. Rather than a straightforward chronological narrative, the book unfolds like an extended conversation — brisk, informal and often disarmingly honest. This approach works remarkably well. It doesn’t just present Chavit’s story; it invites the reader into it, allowing him to speak directly, with all the swagger, bravado and bluntness that have come to define him.

From the beginning, it’s clear that the book is not attempting to sanitize Chavit’s life or present a polished political persona. Instead, it embraces the contradictions. We see Chavit as a political strongman, a family man, a hunter, a high-roller and a survivor of countless controversies. The format allows for revelations that are both humorous and shocking — insights into his early life in Vigan, his rise to political power in Ilocos Sur, his bloody rivalry with the Crisologos and, of course, his central role in the impeachment of President Joseph Estrada.

For readers familiar with Philippine political history, the book feels like a behind-the-scenes exposé. It revisits well-known events — like Chavit’s dramatic press conference accusing Erap of accepting millions in jueteng payoffs — but this time from the point of view of the man who lit the fuse. Whether one sees Chavit as a hero, a whistleblower, or a political operator with his own agenda, his storytelling is undeniably compelling.

Stylistically, the book is simple, direct and unpretentious, which matches the persona of its subject. There are no flowery metaphors or lengthy philosophical musings — just straight talk, often laced with humor, bravado and occasional moments of introspection. The casual tone makes it accessible even to readers who aren’t avid political junkies. It feels less like reading a history book and more like listening to Chavit tell his story over a long dinner — cigar in hand, glass of scotch nearby.

But while the style is a strength, it also raises certain issues. One major weakness lies in the book’s outsider perspective. Though written by Polish journalist Maciej Mikurda, the narrative voice and editorial tone often feel as if they are designed for an international — or at least non-Ilocano — audience. There’s a noticeable distance, especially when the book describes events that are deeply rooted in the regional culture and political dynamics of Northern Luzon. The storytelling would likely have felt richer and more grounded if it had been handled by someone who not only understood Chavit politically but also culturally — perhaps a fellow Ilocano journalist or someone from the same political generation.

This distance is most evident when the book touches on deeply Filipino values — such as utang na loob (debt of gratitude), family loyalty and regional identity. While these themes are present, they are not explored in much depth. In many ways, Chavit’s life is a study in these cultural dynamics. His loyalty to family, his sense of honor and even his take-no-prisoners style of politics are deeply Filipino, yet the book tends to present them as mere anecdotes rather than subjects of deeper reflection. That’s a missed opportunity.

Despite this, Chavit: Legend of the Philippines succeeds in humanizing a figure who has long been mythologized and demonized in equal measure. It does not try to convince readers that Chavit is a saint. Instead, it embraces his flaws — his brashness, his machismo, his old-school politics — and lets them coexist with his strengths: his cunning, his courage and his knack for survival in a cutthroat political landscape.

There’s also an undeniable entertainment value in the book. Whether Chavit is recounting how he survived an ambush, recalling a wild night in Las Vegas, or reflecting on his friendship with international celebrities and politicians, he tells each story with charisma and detail. These aren’t just stories — they’re legends, told by the legend himself.

Of course, some critics might argue that the book doesn’t question Chavit enough — that it’s too sympathetic or too willing to accept his version of events. There’s truth in that. As a memoir, it does not pretend to be investigative journalism. If you’re looking for an objective, balanced biography, this isn’t it. This is Chavit’s story, told Chavit’s way. But in the realm of memoirs, that’s not necessarily a flaw. It becomes a matter of reader expectation.

For those interested in Philippine politics, Chavit: Legend of the Philippines offers more than just a biography — it’s a cultural artifact. It reveals the machinery of local and national politics, the behind-the-scenes drama that rarely makes it into history books, and the kind of raw honesty that only someone with nothing left to prove can offer. It’s also a reminder of how power in the Philippines isn’t always about titles or policies — it’s about personality, presence and persistence.

⭐Final Verdict

Chavit: Legend of the Philippines is a sharp, punchy and entertaining memoir that captures the essence of one of the country’s most controversial and colorful figures. While it lacks the deep cultural introspection that a more grounded, local voice could have offered, it more than makes up for it with candor, clarity and character.

If you’re a fan of political biographies, or simply want to understand the mind of a man who helped shape the course of Philippine politics in the early 2000s, this book is well worth the read. It may not change your opinion of Chavit Singson — but it will definitely make you understand him better.

Recommended for: Political observers, history buffs, Ilocano readers, journalists and anyone who enjoys stories of survival, strategy and scandal — told with a smile.