By John Q. Hosedrinker 
In the Philippines, thousands of demonstrators, including members of the Roman Catholic Church, took to the streets on Sunday to demand the swift prosecution of officials implicated in a widespread corruption scandal. Protesters, also led by left-wing groups, called for the immediate resignation and prosecution of all implicated government officials, spurred by outrage over substandard flood control projects. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has been working to quell public unrest while authorities have frozen assets and arrested several public works officers in connection to the case. Despite isolated calls, the Armed Forces of the Philippines rejected military intervention, while protesters demanded that officials be jailed and forced to return stolen funds.
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Thousands in Philippines protest corruption and demand return of stolen funds from flood projects – that’s a headline that’s sadly familiar, isn’t it? It reflects a deep-seated frustration with a system that seems rigged to enrich a few at the expense of the many, particularly when it comes to vital projects like flood control, where lives are literally on the line. I’ve been thinking a lot about this, given the recent events.
The fact that these protests are happening isn’t surprising, especially considering the backdrop of widespread corruption that has plagued the Philippines for generations. Growing up in the Philippines myself, and more recently, observing from abroad, it’s impossible to ignore the systemic issues that contribute to this ongoing cycle of theft and impunity. The demand for the return of stolen funds isn’t just about the money; it’s about holding those in power accountable and sending a clear message that corruption won’t be tolerated, and that’s critical for any society to function fairly.
The pervasive “Padrino” system, a cultural norm where political alliances are based on personal relationships and favors, is a major contributing factor to the persistence of corruption. Essentially, politicians act as patrons, offering benefits to their supporters in exchange for their votes and loyalty. This creates a network of reciprocal obligations that is incredibly difficult to break. This is a far cry from public service. It’s more like a family business, where personal gain often trumps the common good.
Unfortunately, this isn’t just about the executive branch, or the mayors and governors. The tentacles of these power structures often extend into the legislative and judicial branches, meaning that accountability is severely hampered. When high-ranking officials are implicated in corruption, they rarely face real consequences. Even if they are arrested, they often benefit from preferential treatment, such as hospital arrests or pardons. This perceived lack of justice only emboldens those who would abuse their positions.
But it’s more than just the political structure. There’s a strong cultural element at play that allows this to happen. There’s immense social pressure to conform, to “go along to get along.” People who speak out against corruption – whistleblowers – are often ostracized. Instead of being hailed as heroes, they’re labeled as uncooperative, as if calling out wrongdoing is somehow a personal attack on the entire community. It creates a climate of fear and silence that protects the corrupt.
Furthermore, a lot of people in the Philippines seem to view corruption as just a part of everyday life, a thing to be managed rather than a problem to be solved. And the problem, as I see it, is that ordinary people often feel they need a corrupt patron just to access basic services, like getting a driver’s license or a business permit. This forces them to participate in the corrupt system, just to get by. It becomes a vicious cycle, where the victims of corruption are, in effect, forced to perpetuate it.
It’s encouraging to see the younger generation, Gen Z, taking a more active role in protests. However, the depth and breadth of corruption in the government is incredibly disheartening, with that level of ingrained corruption, it seems like a real uphill battle. I can’t help but be pessimistic about it getting fixed unless we get that level of protest like Nepal. The scale of the country makes that unlikely, and it’s also worth saying that culturally, most people just don’t want to. Anti-dynasty laws won’t necessarily solve the problem, because the padrinos can simply choose a figurehead to take their place.
I also wonder if the voters themselves are perpetuating the cycle of corruption. These officials are democratically elected, after all. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and I truly hope I’m wrong, but is this just the kind of leadership that the people want? Are they voting for the political dynasties, who can simply rotate roles amongst themselves when their term is up?
It seems it boils down to a problem that’s deeply rooted in the political and cultural fabric of the Philippines. Addressing it requires not just legal reforms, but also a fundamental shift in values and attitudes. The current protests, and the demand for the return of stolen funds, is a vital start, but the challenge of lasting change remains immense. I truly hope the courage and determination of those protesting for change will create a ripple effect that will eventually break the cycle.