The need for more upper-class youth in the military

One of the least discussed but most profound shifts in the Philippines over the past 70 years concern the social composition of its military. It has been a quiet change, rarely acknowledged, yet it carries implications for national security, institutional competence, and strategic thinking.

In the 1950s and early postwar decades, the Philippine military — particularly the officer corps — drew substantially from what today we would describe as Classes A, B, and upper C. These were individuals who had access to quality education, came from families quaintly regarded as “de buena familias” or (even better) families with professional backgrounds, and moved within social circles where public service was regarded as a duty rather than as necessary employment.

The situation today is markedly different. Recruitment into the armed forces now overwhelmingly comes from Classes C, D, and E. The reasons are multi-faceted: one would be the 1970s era of Martial Law, where the prestige of the military became intertwined with dictatorial rule and politicization. Another is Western media, particularly Hollywood, which portrayed the military as bumbling robots programmed to simplistically follow orders.

Finally, there are economic incentives, with many of the upper classes opting gradually to joining private business or multinational corporate work. Thus, for many families in Classes C, D, and E, the military became an attractive avenue, without upper class competition, for stable income, housing, education benefits, and social mobility. In other words, it functions less as a calling of the elite and more as mere pathway out of poverty.

At first glance, this may appear democratic: A military more composed of the broader, poorer population, a “people’s” armed forces. Yet the sociological composition of a military institution matters profoundly. Militaries are not merely collections of disciplined individuals. They are intellectual institutions that must plan, assess threats, integrate technology, and think strategically about State survival.

Case in point is the US, which continues to treat military service — particularly officer service — as an honorable and prestigious profession. Families from upper-middle-class and professional backgrounds still send their children into the armed forces. The result is a military that, while socially diverse, remains intellectually connected to the broader national elite. Officers routinely attend institutions such as West Point or the US Naval Academy. Senior officers frequently complete graduate degrees at schools like Harvard or Stanford University, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

This integration is reinforced within the American political system itself. Roughly 18.7% of US Congress members previously served in the military. In addition, many legislators have close family members – parents, children, or siblings — who have served or are currently serving in the armed forces.

The result is a political class that possesses actual knowledge of military culture. Civilian leaders are not merely supervising the military from afar; many have worn the uniform themselves or come from families that have done so. This produces a personal and deeply human link between civilian authority and military leadership grounded in shared experience.

Indeed, “when the military reflects the diversity of the population, it becomes a true force for the people, capable of serving and protecting everyone, not just a select few. This inclusivity helps ensure that the military is seen as a partner in the democratic process, rather than as a separate or isolated entity” (“Military service: a bridge between youth and society?”; Emmanuel Jacob, President, Euromil News, August 2024).

A military dominated by one class (even if it be broader lower-income groups) risks disconnect from society. A force drawn from all social classes promotes cohesion, legitimacy, and shared responsibility. Indeed, “all social classes should contribute their share to the national defense” (see “25th annual US Department of Defense report on social representation in the US Military Services”; also “Sociology of the Military”; Morris Janowitz, April 2022).

If the military and civilian leadership come from increasingly divergent social worlds, logically a gap emerges. Civilian policymakers may view the military as technically competent but socially and politically inferior. The military, in turn, may see civilian leadership as naïve and detached from the realities of the people and of national defense.

In the Philippines, that gap has grown: As military service gradually lost its appeal among Class A and B families, who now encourage their youth to enter into any career but the military, the armed forces is increasingly forced to recruit from an even narrower, less varied, demographic that unfortunately results in a lesser talent pool that consequently runs into the danger of uncritical groupthink.

This divergence has implications for national security. The Philippines already struggles with strategic consistency. Defense planning often oscillates between nation building priorities and external defense modernization. The value distance between civilian and military leadership imposes difficulties in shaping an effective long-term national strategy.

Philippine society has to be reoriented regarding the military and national defense. A good initial step, of course, is to revive the ROTC and institutionalize mandatory military service amongst our youth and young adults across all socio-economic classes.

Jemy Gatdula is the dean of the UA&P Law School and is a Philippine Judicial Academy lecturer for constitutional philosophy and jurisprudence. The views expressed here are his own and not necessarily of the institutions to which he belongs.