Corruption in the Philippines has long been an open secret, but recent revelations have cast an even harsher spotlight on just how deeply entrenched the problem has become. According to Rappler, the country is now facing what some are calling a crisis of national character—a moment when the monstrous reality of corruption can no longer be ignored, excused, or swept under the rug.
For decades, Filipinos have grown accustomed to stories of bribery and embezzlement, particularly in agencies like the Bureau of Internal Revenue and the Bureau of Customs. These were once considered the usual suspects, places where large bribes and petty payoffs greased the wheels of bureaucracy. Everyday citizens, especially the poor, often found themselves paying extra just to obtain basic services or avoid minor penalties. As Rappler notes, "Convenience is the excuse—convenience to the advantage of corruption abettors, but at great cost to the masses and masses of poor whose only benefit from the government comes from the taxes it spends, if it does, for public services."
But the latest scandals suggest that corruption has grown beyond the reach of everyday inconvenience and now threatens the very fabric of Philippine democracy. At the heart of the current uproar is a staggering loss of public funds: of a trillion pesos allocated for flood-control infrastructure since 2022, up to 70%—according to testimonies by confessed culprits—has allegedly gone into the pockets of contractors, senators, congressional representatives, public-works officials, and government auditors. This revelation came to light during the worst floods in living memory, when the failure of infrastructure meant to protect communities became impossible to ignore.
This is not the first time the Philippines has been rocked by corruption scandals, but the scale and brazenness of the latest case have left many reeling. Historical context, as outlined by Rappler, shows that every administration since the days of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. has had its share of controversy. Marcos Sr.'s martial-law presidency (1972-1986) is perhaps the most infamous, with an estimated $10 billion amassed through corruption. Half of that sum was reportedly recovered during the presidency of his successor, Cory Aquino, but none of the Marcoses or their close associates ever saw jail time. "But none of the Marcoses or their cronies went to jail, and that has been the way to go," Rappler observes.
The pattern continued under Aquino's defense minister, Fidel Ramos, who later became president. His administration was clouded by the "Centennial scandal," involving the overpricing of a P2 billion amphitheater at Clark for the 1998 centenary of the Philippine Republic. The case fizzled out after the death of Salvador Laurel, who chaired the centennial affair. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, another president, was implicated in the hijacking of 10 billion pesos from a socio-economic development fund, but only Janet Lim-Napoles, an outsider, was convicted and remains in jail. Arroyo herself, along with several senators, was acquitted, thanks in part to a Supreme Court stacked with her appointees.
Even the earliest memorable corruption scandals are not forgotten. Diosdado Macapagal, Arroyo's father and president from 1961 to 1965, was involved in the so-called Stonehill scandal, where an American businessman was accused of bribing his way through Philippine officialdom. Instead of facing prosecution, Harry Stonehill was deported, effectively ending the investigation.
Fast forward to the presidency of Rodrigo Duterte (2016-2022), and the Pharmally scandal comes into focus. Billions of pesos were spent on overpriced vaccines and medical supplies during the COVID-19 pandemic, with the case still making its way through the courts. Duterte himself is now a detainee in The Hague, charged with "crimes against humanity" for a violent war on drugs that left thousands dead, a campaign that began when he was mayor of Davao City and continued into his presidency.
Despite these high-profile scandals, the article from Rappler laments that most cases fade from public memory, with only the most recent—like those from Duterte's administration—remaining in the headlines. The lack of accountability is staggering. As the article points out, "What parameters of budgetary spending and limits of law there are have proved mere theoretical controls, useless against a malign conspiracy of mutual interest across the institutions." In other words, existing laws and regulations have done little to curb the appetite for graft among the country's political elite.
The response from politicians has been predictable, and, in many cases, disappointing. Some lawmakers claim that the solution lies in more legislation, while others advocate for drastic changes in government structure or even a military takeover. Senator Alan Cayetano has suggested a mass resignation of senators and a snap election, a move Rappler describes as a "pseudo-Solomonic solution" that would likely only benefit political dynasties with the resources to win back power. As the article notes, "For the likes of Cayetano, elections, snap or regular, are not much risk; with their dynastic resources and captive following by patronage, they are always able to worm their way back into power."
The article also warns against political plots that would distract from ongoing legal proceedings, such as the impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte, who faces allegations of grand embezzlement. There are concerns that some factions may be seeking to oust President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and create a power vacuum for their own gain.
In the face of such a daunting challenge, calls for real reform have grown louder. Rappler cites Cardinal Ambo David, who urges Filipinos not to "burn down the house to get rid of the rats." Instead, he advocates for saving what can be salvaged within the democratic framework and under the rule of law. "…don’t burn down the house to get rid of the rats." The message is clear: true change will require more than just new laws or leaders; it will demand a fundamental shift in national character and a renewed commitment to justice and accountability.
Meanwhile, the public’s frustration is palpable. With each new revelation, trust in government institutions erodes further, and the sense of impunity grows. As Rappler so succinctly puts it, "The cure is national reformation, nothing less, but, again, it’s not something available at any pharmacy." The road ahead is uncertain, but one thing is clear: the Philippines stands at a crossroads, and the choices made in the coming months and years will shape the nation’s future for generations to come.
As the country grapples with the fallout from these scandals, the demand for transparency, accountability, and genuine reform has never been more urgent. Whether the Philippines can finally break free from the cycle of corruption remains to be seen, but the stakes—both for its democracy and its people—could not be higher.