On September 21, 2025, the streets of Metro Manila and other major Philippine cities erupted in protest, as tens of thousands rallied against what they described as endemic corruption at the highest levels of government. The demonstrations, which coincided with the 53rd anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law in the Philippines, quickly became the largest anti-corruption gatherings since the 2013 “Million People March,” according to GMA Integrated News and other local outlets.
The focal point of the unrest was Manila’s historic Mendiola Bridge, a symbolic site for political expression in the country. There, a youth-led group inspired by recent uprisings in Indonesia and Nepal attempted to break through police barricades to reach the presidential palace. As reported by the Philippine Daily Inquirer, the confrontation escalated rapidly: unidentified men torched a parked truck and a motorcycle at the foot of Ayala Bridge, while others hurled stones and debris at the police line. Authorities responded with water cannons and tear gas, forcing the crowd to retreat and regroup at adjacent streets, including Recto Avenue.
By nightfall, the Manila Police District tallied 216 arrests, a staggering 89 of whom were minors. The violence left dozens of protesters and police officers injured, and, in a tragic turn, one unidentified man died from a stabbing amid the chaos. More than 100 police officers were also reported injured during the confrontations, GMA Integrated News confirmed.
The police crackdown drew swift condemnation from the International Coalition for Human Rights in the Philippines (ICHRP). "ICHRP asserts that they are far from being criminals, these protesters are the conscience of a nation outraged at (President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s) corrupt flood-control and infrastructure projects, his ‘anti-corruption’ posturing, and his deep entanglement with political patrons and contractors," the group stated on September 23. ICHRP Chairperson Peter Murphy further emphasized, "The demonstrations were a legitimate outpouring of people’s anger at a kleptocratic government. The youth, urban poor, and workers who joined the standoff in the historic Mendiola Bridge were not ‘thugs.’ They are citizens whose communities are drowning in poverty and floodwaters while the powerful enrich themselves." Murphy labeled the arrests and dispersal as “human rights violations,” calling for international condemnation, immediate release of the detained, and support for legal and medical aid.
Malacañang, however, took a sharply different stance. The presidential palace labeled the protesters as criminals and President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. ordered Interior Secretary Jonvic Remulla to arrest those who attempted to force their way past anti-riot police. The official narrative portrayed the youth protesters as unruly agitators intent on sowing violence and destruction, a depiction that has fueled further debate about the role of dissent in Philippine democracy.
The Commission on Human Rights (CHR) announced it would launch its own inquiry into the events of September 21. The commission’s investigation will focus on possible human rights violations, including allegations of media harassment and excessive police force. "Monitoring of cases and developments remains ongoing, including reports of the harassment of media personnel at one protest site. The CHR will likewise continue to monitor the condition of detained individuals, particularly minors," the commission said in a statement reported by GMA Integrated News. Viral footage circulated online showing a Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) officer dragging a boy—accused of causing a disturbance—into a hotel, where he was reportedly beaten by several men. The CHR pledged to conduct an impartial inquiry into whether law enforcement violated police protocols or committed grave human rights abuses.
Underlying the unrest was a corruption scandal of enormous proportions. The protests were triggered by revelations that billions of pesos had been siphoned off through nonexistent infrastructure projects, with officials allegedly receiving kickbacks for nominating and endorsing favored contractors. The Philippine Daily Inquirer and other sources highlighted that the flood control program, intended to address the country’s perennial flooding, had become a symbol of government failure and elite enrichment.
President Marcos Jr. appeared to straddle both sides of the controversy. Publicly, he expressed surprise at the extent of the corruption and vowed to pursue accountability, establishing an independent commission to investigate the anomalous projects. He even remarked that, were he not president, he would be on the streets protesting as well. Yet critics, as noted by GMA Integrated News, accused Marcos of selective outrage: despite his anti-corruption rhetoric, he signed a budget containing pork barrel allocations and congressional insertions of questionable merit. He also deflected scrutiny from his own use of confidential funds, while allies in Congress blocked opposition lawmakers from investigating the presidential budget.
The timing of the protests added another layer of historical resonance. September 21 marks the anniversary of the 1972 Martial Law declaration by Ferdinand Marcos Sr., which ushered in years of authoritarian rule and, as chronicled by generations of Filipinos, enabled the Marcos family and their cronies to amass vast ill-gotten wealth. This year’s demonstrations, then, were not just about contemporary scandals, but also a reminder of the country’s long struggle with impunity and corruption.
Political dynamics complicated calls for accountability. While some protesters demanded the resignation of President Marcos Jr., others hesitated, wary that his departure would elevate Vice President Sara Duterte—herself embroiled in corruption allegations and representing a family associated with the controversial Duterte administration. The specter of a Duterte return to power alarmed many who had experienced persecution during the previous regime.
Meanwhile, the anti-corruption movement’s diversity was on full display. Supporters of former President Rodrigo Duterte organized their own, much smaller rallies, including one in front of the military headquarters. However, turnout was minimal, and these gatherings were overshadowed by the mass mobilization in the capital region, which drew more than 100,000 people demanding accountability and reform.
Outside Manila, protests in other urban centers echoed the same themes: outrage at systemic corruption, demands for transparency, and calls for the removal of officials implicated in the infrastructure scandal. The public’s indignation proved decisive in recent leadership changes in both the Senate and House of Representatives, as well as the ouster of key figures overseeing government projects.
In the aftermath, the fate of the detained protesters—especially the minors—remains uncertain, with inquest proceedings ongoing. The CHR’s investigation is closely watched by human rights advocates, while the ICHRP and other organizations continue to press for international support and oversight.
As investigations by Congress and the independent commission proceed, the country stands at a crossroads. The September 21 protests have reignited debates about rule of law, social justice, and the power of public resistance. Whether the government’s response will bring meaningful change or provoke further unrest remains to be seen, but for now, the voices from Mendiola and beyond have made it clear: the demand for accountability in the Philippines is as urgent as ever.