Redeeming the Philippines

The Trillion Peso March last Sunday was no street carnival, no fleeting tantrum. It was a thunderclap, a warning shot across the bow of a ship of state drifting into dangerous waters. It was the people proclaiming, with unmistakable clarity: the Republic does not belong to politicians, contractors, and their accomplices. It belongs to its citizens — the millions who work, pay taxes, and cling still to the promise of democracy.

For years, the looting of billions was not hidden. It was conducted brazenly, under the gaze of institutions sworn to guard the public purse. The Bids and Awards Committees, the Department of Budget and Management, the Palace itself, and yes, the Commission on Audit (CoA), could not have been blind. They seem instead silent — emasculated, compromised, or complicit.

To imagine that this cycle will collapse of its own weight is folly. Political dynasties, fortified by wealth and violence, have turned corruption into dynastic inheritance. Economic monopolies protect their profits through capture of the state. A culture of impunity emboldens officials who believe, with reason, that justice can be delayed until it becomes meaningless. Unless citizens demand sharper, lawful, and relentless accountability, redemption will remain a slogan.

THE MINIMUM DEMANDS
We spelled out last week what need to be done:

• A comprehensive, independent investigation of all flood control projects of the last decade.

• Forensic accounting to flush out hidden and laundered assets.

• Criminal charges against all with probable cause, without fear or favor.

• Confiscation of stolen wealth, returned to the Republic.

• Public oversight at every stage, to guard against whitewash, foot-dragging, and collusion.

These are not maximalist demands. They are the minimum conditions for a nation to remain viable.

BEYOND THE LEGISLATURE
The obstacle is obvious. The Senate and the House of Representatives cannot be expected to legislate these reforms; they are both hopelessly conflicted. Many lawmakers are themselves implicated, or dependent on the same contractors and networks now under scrutiny.

This is why at the rally last Sunday, the call for a People’s Initiative gained traction.

Former Finance Undersecretary Cielo Magno proposed reforms to tear down the walls of secrecy: mandatory open access to Statements of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALNs); automatic disqualification of candidates with unresolved CoA disallowances; and passage of a long-delayed Freedom of Information Law.

Former CoA Commissioner Heidi Mendoza emphasized institutionalizing citizen oversight. Her proposals include Citizens’ Participatory Audits — bringing in engineers, architects, and accountants to monitor procurement — and the regular reshuffling of CoA personnel to prevent capture and cozy relationships.

These are preventive reforms. They must be pursued. But prevention alone will not suffice. When the house is already burning, fire codes are not enough. There must be punishment. Dapat may masampolan (Someone must be made an example of). Careers must be questioned, fortunes confiscated, reputations erased so that those tempted to steal know that betrayal of public trust carries unbearable consequences.

THE FIRST CRACKS
There are signs of positive movement. The Anti-Money Laundering Council secured a freeze order on 135 bank accounts and 27 insurance policies linked to Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) officials and contractors. Hundreds of billions of pesos are covered — money stolen from ghost projects and substandard works.

Soon after, another freeze order was issued against the assets of two senators, a party-list congressman, and former DPWH officials, on the strength of testimony before the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee. The Department of Justice is preparing cases ranging from indirect bribery to malversation and graft.

But let us not be deceived. For every name exposed, dozens remain shielded. And the deeper scandal is not merely theft but complicity. How did such grotesque sums enter the banking system?

The Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP) requires banks to “know their customers,” monitor suspicious transactions, and report anomalies. Yet tens and hundreds of millions were deposited in single bursts — or in smaller, repeated tranches across multiple banks — without alarm. What happened to the compliance system?

There is room for the BSP to look into this.

INSTITUTION WITH TEETH
This is why an Independent Commission for Infrastructure is essential. But it cannot rest on an executive order, fragile and reversible. It must be created by Congress, endowed with permanence, resources, and independence.

Its first mandate should be a sweeping inventory of flood control projects for the past decade, extending further back as records allow. Whistleblowers must be protected and incentivized, their testimonies used to abbreviate due process and accelerate restitution.

And restitution cannot wait. Senator Rodante Marcoleta’s argument that contractors should return stolen money only after determination of guilt could actually work against public interest. Former Senior Associate Justice Antonio Carpio explained that payments for ghost or substandard projects were made without legal basis. Therefore, they must be returned immediately. To allow contractors to sit on plundered billions while appeals drag on for decades is to invite dissipation of assets and mockery of justice.

THE GLOBAL LESSON
The Philippines is not unique. Across Asia and beyond, citizens have risen when corruption metastasized into existential threat.

• In Indonesia, public fury at the Suharto regime’s plunder culminated in his fall in 1998. The subsequent establishment of the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) was far from perfect, but for years it proved relentless, jailing governors, ministers, and even members of parliament. It demonstrated that fear could indeed be instilled in the powerful.

• In Nepal, citizens repeatedly revolted against governments mired in graft and incompetence. Public outrage over corruption scandals was central to the abolition of the monarchy in 2008 and remains a recurring spark for mass mobilization today.

• In Brazil, the Lava Jato (Car Wash) investigation uncovered a web of corruption linking contractors, Petrobras, and politicians at the highest level. Presidents, ministers, and CEOs were prosecuted. The process was messy, politicized, and imperfect, but it proved that scale is no excuse for inaction.

• Even in South Korea, a democracy long plagued by collusion between business and politics, a sitting president, Park Geun-hye, was impeached and jailed for corruption.

The common lesson is that citizens’ outrage, once channeled into institutions with teeth, can yield results. The Philippines must learn from this history. Our people have already signaled they will not be silent. The challenge is whether our institutions will rise to meet that courage, or whether they will once again falter.

THE ECONOMIC PRICE OF CORRUPTION
The cost of corruption is not only moral but economic. Already, investment capital is slowing. Productivity — both labor and capital — has stagnated. Even the BSP projects growth at around the lower end of the 2025 target of 5.5-6.5% in 2025, with little acceleration thereafter.

Meanwhile, fiscal fragility deepens. National government debt stands at P17.6 trillion. External debt alone has ballooned to $148.9 billion, already higher than gross international reserves. Plans to borrow another P627 billion abroad next year will push debt to P18.2 trillion. With growth slowing, this is a recipe for crisis.

The world is watching. The EU’s Ambassador Massimo Santoro has warned that corruption could jeopardize the Philippines’ eligibility for GSP+ trade preferences — lifelines for exports. Losing them would hammer jobs and output.

MUFG Global Markets Research has flagged the flood control scandal as a serious risk to the economy. Deutsche Bank Research has echoed the warning, noting that “downside risks to the Philippine economy have not faded.”

Corruption, in short, is not just theft. It is sabotage of growth, stability, and credibility.

THE CALL FOR REDEMPTION
Redemption requires speed. Swift prosecutions, swift restitution, swift reforms. Justice delayed is justice denied.

It requires courage. Whistleblowers must be protected. Civil society must resist intimidation. Citizens must refuse the narcotic of cynicism.

It requires institutionalization. Reforms must be codified in law; not left to the whims of politicians whose loyalty is to clan and contractor.

It requires fear, fear among the corrupt that betrayal of trust will mean not just exposure but ruin: confiscated assets, destroyed reputations, prison walls.

For if crime is allowed to pay, and pay handsomely, then the Trillion Peso March will not be the last. There will be a second, a third, a fourth. And each will be larger, angrier, less forgiving.

AGAINST THE SIRENS
Some insist that corruption will take generations to curb, that Filipinos must simply wait until hearts and minds are ultimately transformed. This is the song of the sirens. To listen is to be lulled into paralysis while the nation sinks.

We must instead be like Odysseus, aware of temptation, but bound tightly to the mast of principle, deaf to excuses, resolute against allure. For the Republic’s survival depends not on patience but on action, not on gradualism but on courage.

Redeeming the Philippines cannot wait. The people have spoken. The world is watching. Let the time of reckoning begin.