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The next Asian domino to topple? Maybe, maybe not

LAST Sunday (September 21), there were large – they were substantial, but I wouldn’t call them “massive,” as many news outlets have – public...

The next Asian domino to topple? Maybe, maybe not

LAST Sunday (September 21), there were large – they were substantial, but I wouldn’t call them “massive,” as many news outlets have – public demonstrations in Metro Manila and a few other locations around the Philippines, protesting the legitimately massive corruption scandal that has come to be known as “Floodgate.” As this scandal has exploded just shortly after the Indonesian government faced a serious existential threat from a citizenry enraged about government corruption, and the government of Nepal was ousted in spectacular fashion for the same reason, the world media and talking heads have speculated the Philippines might be the next Asian country to be similarly upended.

Fun fact: I think I’m the one that popularized that term, “Floodgate,” although I didn’t invent it. I heard it somewhere and started making it a point to use it in the editorials I write for The Manila Times, and now it is starting to stick. It’s those little instances of being able to move the world, even if just a tiny bit, that keep one motivated.

Anyway, I digress. I’ve had a drink or two (got a really excellent bottle of wine from the boss the other day, I’ll have to find a way to reciprocate for Christmas), it’s rather late on a Friday evening, and my linear thinking skills have taken the night off. Deal with it.

To explain it as simply as possible, Floodgate is a broad web of corruption primarily involving flood-control projects of the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH), whereby a small number of favored contractors cornered most of the projects in exchange for kickbacks to DPWH officials, who in turn provided kickbacks to members of Congress as repayment for Congress’ adding huge amounts to unprogrammed allocations for the DPWH in the national budget each year. The actual projects, of course, were either shoddily built or not built at all, resulting in hundreds of thousands of Filipinos affected by floods – which is a top-of-mind, everyday concern here, we’ve had two serious tropical storms just this week – that they otherwise shouldn’t have been.

The amount of money snatched from the public funds is breathtaking. Estimates for the losses due to corruption have been estimated to be between P650 billion and P1 trillion over the last 10 years ($11 billion to $17 billion); testimony in Senate hearings from some of the key players in the DPWH has revealed that between 30 and 70 percent of the budget for individual projects is siphoned off by the various collectors.

So far, the scandal has already rolled a few big heads. The Secretary of the DPWH was the first to go, and the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Martin Romualdez – first cousin of President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. and until all this happened, Marcos’ presumptive successor in 2028 – resigned after being implicated in the scandal, although he remains a member of the House, for now. Just today (Sept. 26), the National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) recommended the filing of charges against 21 people, including three current senators, one former senators, two members of the House of Representatives, a former undersecretary of the DPWH, several other DPWH officials, and a handful of contractors and bagmen.

One of the senators facing indictment is Francis “Chiz” Escudero, who was until the end of July the Senate President, but was ousted in a sort of mini-coup within the Senate. At the time, that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the Floodgate scandal, but rather the fact that Escudero (who for good measure is married to one of the Philippines’ several hundred identical actresses and “celebrity endorsers,” Heart Evangelista) is kind of a weenie, and made a big mess of the attempt to impeach Vice President Sara Duterte on graft charges stemming from her embezzlement of a couple hundred million pesos in government funds during her short-lived, disastrous stint as Education Secretary. However, there have been somewhat credible rumors that other senators knew or at least suspected Escudero would get snagged in the growing scandal, asked him to step down before that happened to avoid causing an embarrassing political crisis (the Senate President is second in the line of succession, after the Vice President and ahead of the Speaker of the House), and when he refused, saw to his removal by way of new election for the post.

In announcing the recommended indictments, the Department of Justice assured the public that there would be others to follow shortly, after the i’s were dotted and the t’s were crossed. These would include former House Speaker Romualdez, former Senator and now mayor of Makati City, the country’s financial capital, Nancy Binay, several other members of Congress, other officials and employees of the DPWH, and several of the construction firms involved in the mess.

Back to the protests. My personal view was that they were rather strange, because they really didn’t have a clear demand for action other than “stop corruption.” Unlike in Indonesia and Nepal, public anger here is not directed at the government generally, but rather at Congress. President Marcos himself sparked the entire scandal by ranting about the corruption in his State of the Nation Address to Congress at the end of July; he endorsed the protest actions, and has otherwise taken some very visible steps toward addressing the problem, such as forming an independent investigative committee, and appointing his personal fireman, a guy named Vince Dizon, to clean up the mess at DPWH. Dizon responded by immediately firing a long list of DPWH officers and employees, and having the assets of those implicated in the corruption scandal seized or frozen.

Thus, the protests amounted to what they call here “indignation rallies,” just an opportunity for an angry public to blow off some steam. And I suppose that’s fine, but to the outside world watching what is going on, they were in no way indicative of a potential government collapse, at least not yet. There were two main rallies in Metro Manila, one in Luneta Park, the large park in central Manila surrounding the grave and shrine of national hero Jose Rizal, and one centered on the so-called Edsa Shrine not far from where I live. “Edsa” is short for Epifanio D. Santos Avenue, and is Metro Manila’s main drag; it was the site of the famous uprisings that ousted the dictator Ferdinand Marcos (the current president’s father) in 1986, and the corrupt buffoon Joseph Estrada in 2001. I live along Edsa, in a building about a mile south of where the Edsa Shrine is. It is about the most Filipino location you could imagine; a Catholic church built in 1960’s mod style, featuring a gigantic BVM statue, and located right in front of a mall.

My daughter attended the Luneta Pak rally with some of her friends and classmates, and according to her, the event was surprisingly orderly and peaceful, although she also said the police (who were positioned so as to keep the rallyists contained in the park) were a bit heavy-handed with people trying to break or go around their cordon. Her impression was that they were not very well prepared, nor were there enough of them to do what they intended to do.

Likewise, the Edsa rally, which happened a couple hours later in order to give the Luneta attendees time to travel to it (my daughter considered it, but opted to come home and take a nap instead), was also mostly peaceful, although there was some tension between the rallyists and some supporters of former president Rodrigo Duterte (Vice President Sara is his daughter), who tried to use the occasion to stir up calls for Marcos’ overthrow. One of the key players in this action was close Duterte ally and former governor of Ilocos Sur province Chavit Singson – a political actor so crooked that, in the words of the immortal Hunter S. Thompson, he probably needs the assistance of a personal butler to screw his pants on in the morning. Singson emerged from his residence in the tony Corinthian Gardens subdivision, which borders Edsa a few blocks north of the Edsa Shrine, to try to whip up calls for Marcos’ ouster, only to be shouted down and menaced by nearby rallyists, resulting in his bodyguards quickly hustling him back into the safety of the walled village.

The defeat – mostly verbal, although there were apparently a few punches thrown – of the pro-Duterte agitators was pleasing to see. Former president Rodrigo Duterte, whose stronghold is in the far southern city of Davao, was the worst of the four presidents I have seen so far in the Philippines, a sociopathic thug with the leadership and reasoning skills of a stunned badger. In a controversial move this past March, the government arranged for his extradition to the Netherlands, where he is now jailed awaiting trial on charges of crimes against humanity stemming from his campaign of state-organized murder against criminals, drug dealers, and those he only thought were criminals and drug dealers, first during his two decades as mayor in Davao, and later as president. His children, primarily Sara, the current Vice President, and son Sebastian, who sports jailhouse tattoos on his neck and is currently the interim mayor of Davao (the elder Duterte was elected mayor, despite being jailed in the Netherlands, by an overwhelming margin this past May), are cut from the same violent, trailer-trash cloth. They are popular – if nothing else, the Philippines demonstrates the truth of the old adage that the weakest link in a democracy is the voters themselves – but they are profoundly corrupt, besides being rather stupid, and the rejection they got from the recent rally was a welcome sign that the Marcos administration’s campaign to bury them and prevent Sara from being elected president in 2028 might be working.

The part of the rallies that the rest of the world saw, the violence that erupted in Manila, happened a bit
later in the day. A group of several hundred – perhaps as many as 1,000 – protestors attempted to march on Malacañang Palace, the seat of the government, along Mendiola Street, but were blocked by police. A riot ensued, which resulted in at least 95 police personnel being injured, and untold number of civilian injuries, at least 216 people arrested, many of them juveniles, and considerable damage to businesses in the area from firebombs and looting. The back-and-forth battle between rioters and the police went on for hours before calm was restored, and two things were immediately obvious. First, the police were woefully unprepared to handle this sort of situation; and second, the incident was not the result of legitimate protest, but just some people looking to start some shit.

I have to be honest, even though my professional assessment would be to condemn the rioters, my personal sentiments are a bit more forgiving. If I was 30 or 40 years younger, I wouldn’t have been at the organized and well-behaved rallies, I would have been throwing rocks with the bangers. My personal approach to protesting always was, “if you don’t at least flip over a car, you’re not trying hard enough.”

Even so, there needs to be a clear point or call to action for what you’re doing; there needs to be a bigger picture reason for bouncing a rock off a cop’s head, otherwise you’re just being a dick. In this case, there was no point; even though the riot was rather spectacular and caught the attention of the media outside the country, it was what I already said it was, just people (mostly young men) looking to start some shit. There has been a lot of online chatter that the violence was organized, in a way, by pro-Duterte groups – not by the Dutertes themselves, but rather some among their legions of zealous mouth-breathing fans – although this is not entirely certain. My daughter, who is more online than I am (I don’t have Facebook, she does) argued with me that this was fake news; on the other hand, some of my other sources – because I am a spooky journalist who knows everybody and everything – have sworn that it was another attempt, a fortunately rather lame one, by the Duterte forces to sow instability.

***

Sorry, I got distracted for a few minutes discussing the mortal threat of AI with my daughter, who is lamenting the fact that she has to write papers in such a way as to prevent AI detectors for mistaking original work for something AI-generated (she’s a first-year nursing student). My god, what students have to worry about these days. AI is evil and must be destroyed. And if I ever get within arm’s reach of Sam Altman (which is highly unlikely), you better believe I will choke that eyes-too-close-together motherfucker out. For real.

Anyway, back to the main topic. In spite of the attention the riots got, and the somewhat lesser attention the larger rallies attracted, there is no risk, at least right now, of the Philippines going the way of Indonesia or Nepal. To be sure, there are still risks that the government’s “anti-corruption” drive may make a fatal misstep, or that some act of corruption so heinous will be uncovered – for example, if the president himself is implicated, although I don’t think that will happen, because reasons – that public protest of the kind that brings down governments will erupt. But for now, that’s not happening, and news stories that suggest otherwise are speculating too much.

Some Views on the Philippines’ ‘Floodgate’

Maybe they should have tried building a wall instead of a 'wal'
IN late July, during his “State of the Nation Address” – which is referred to as the “SONA” here in the Philippines, because they can come up with an acronym or abbreviation for anything – President Ferdinand R. “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. (Filipinos have a thing with nicknames, too) devoted part of his time toward railing against corrupt government officials and contractors who have rooked the country out of billions of pesos while leaving the country with substandard or completely imaginary flood-control infrastructure. It was a provocative subject, because about two weeks prior, several large sections of the country had suffered serious flooding, including in and around Metro Manila.

In the weeks since, investigations by the House of Representatives (in conjunction with hearings on the government’s annual budget for next year), the Senate, the Department of Justice, and more recently, the new Secretary of the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) – the previous one being one of the first heads to roll in the growing scandal – and a new investigative commission created by the president, as well as other agencies, have uncovered a breathtaking web of corruption involving hundreds, if not thousands, of government officials and employees, including many members of the House and Senate, about two dozen construction contractors, and the Philippine Contractors’ Accreditation Board (PCAB). Every day brings new details in what has become known as “Floodgate” here; just today (Sept. 17), the Speaker of the House, a cousin of the president, was forced to resign after being implicated.

All of this is happening, coincidentally, in the wake of public uprisings against government corruption that almost brought down the government in Indonesia, and did overthrow the government of Nepal. The similarities between the situations in those countries, especially Indonesia, and the situation here are disturbing. There are major rallies planned in Metro Manila and other parts of the country for this coming Sunday, Sept. 21, and while I don’t think things will go sideways – for one thing, Marcos has openly encouraged people to demonstrate, so long as they do it peacefully – everything feels a little bit on edge.

On a personal note, my 20-year-old daughter asked me the other night if she could attend one of the two big rallies planned in Manila with a group of her friends and classmates. If I was a Filipino parent, I might scold her and tell her to express her views in more productive ways. But I am not, I am an East Coast Gen X-er and aging punk who knows what teargas tastes like, and is of the opinion that if you don’t at least flip a car over you’re not trying hard enough, so I told her to go and be heard.

I did not recommend that she flip over any cars, however, and of course I gave her all the usual “how to stay safe in a demonstration with 300,000 other people” tips. Plus, although she doesn’t know it, the entire Manila Times photography squad, our building security (The Manila Times’ offices are near the park where the rally will be held), and several personnel from the Manila Police District will be keeping an eye out for her and her group. Dad’s got connections.

In my day job-life, I have steered away from writing about the “Floodgate” situation as much as possible, for reasons. However, it has been impossible to avoid it entirely; in poking through my folders earlier this evening, I realized that I’ve actually had a lot to say about the situation. So, as a public service, in a sense, I’ve decided to repost my columns on the topic, as well as The Manila Times editorials I wrote about it. I think it provides some insights, and in reading through my work of the past couple of weeks, it’s an interesting study in shifting thoughts on the matter. Links to the originals are embedded in the titles.

***

Plenty of drama, but will there be real change? (Editorial, August 23)

IN the weeks since President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. used his recent State of the Nation Address to express his frustration with the “shameful” corruption plaguing the country’s flood control projects, there has been a great volume of sound and fury from both the Executive and Legislative branches of government, duly reported in detail by the nation’s media, present company included. Committees in both houses of Congress are investigating the scandal, new committees are being formed to pursue the matter further, and almost every day brings new, shocking revelations of the results of some lawmaker’s or another’s personal “investigation.”

For all the public drama that our collective leadership is working energetically to create, it seems the public’s reaction, at least so far, is a collective stifled yawn. We have been here before, over and over again, for almost four decades. Corruption in public works projects of all kinds, not just those intended for flood control, seems to be perceived as a fundamental part of governance at all levels in the Philippines.

No one condones it, of course, and it is a constant source of public mistrust and frustration with government, but the most obvious public sentiment is resignation. These occasional “anti-corruption” campaigns have never resulted in lasting change; if any of them had, we would not now be filling our headlines with breathless news of more examples of greed and fraud. What the public wants to know, and has an absolute right to know, is how the outcomes will be different this time.  

We understand this sounds quite cynical, but it is not our intention to downplay the seriousness of the astonishing corruption that is being exposed. President Marcos was right to condemn it is as shameful, and it is even more so when flood control projects are involved, because the consequences of the rampant, organized criminality being carried out by government officials and contractors put the lives, livelihoods, and property of ordinary Filipinos in grave danger. It is entirely proper, in fact absolutely necessary, that the full details of the corrupted projects and everyone involved in them are exposed.

However, it is far important that there are exemplary consequences for these criminal acts and breaches of the public trust. Even more importantly, it is vital that systemic changes be made to prevent the corruption from happening again.

Along those lines, we have a few suggestions that, if our leaders are sincere about meaningful reform, they should take to heart.

First, the pearl-clutching expressions of shocked concern by members of Congress do not distract us from the fact that most of the corruption being investigated now originates with lawmaker’s arrogant and self-serving wielding of Congress’ “power of the purse.” On more than one occasion, President Marcos has issued a stern warning that he will not tolerate unjustifiable budget insertions by Congress, and will veto those when the budget reaches his desk. He should be diligent in doing so; no public works project should originate from a Congressional budget insertion or application of “pork barrel” funds.

Second, a “zero-tolerance” policy toward potential conflicts of interest must be adopted and rigorously enforced. We have lately heard stories of government officials or their family members having a stake in businesses being awarded project contracts. It is incredible that these firms are not immediately disqualified and declared ineligible for any bidding. In managing this issue, the government could consider seeking the advice of institutions such as the Asian Development Bank or the World Bank, which have developed and efficiently maintain robust safeguard policies in their own project work.

Third, the application of administrative and judicial penalties must be swift, severe, and comprehensive. Every instance of massive corruption in the past – familiar examples are the infamous “pork barrel” scandal during the administrative of late president Noynoy Aquino, or the so-called Pharmally scandal during the term of former president Duterte – has, at best, resulted in one or two perpetrators being sacrificed, with more significant public figures able to escape accountability, usually after years of gaming the judicial system with clever legal maneuvering.

Finally, it is evident that there is something seriously dysfunctional about the system by which projects are created, bid out, and monitored by the responsible agencies, the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) being the one on the hot seat at present. This is another performance area where the assistance of the multilateral institutions and international development agencies would be most helpful; the government should swallow its pride and avail of it.   

Corruption is the mistress of government

Rough Trade, August 31

FOR nearly two months, the issue of corruption in public works projects, specifically flood control projects, has dominated the headlines. It began with widespread flooding problems associated with the passing of tropical storm Crising on July 19-20, ramped up to a fever pitch with President Marcos’ inclusion of the topic in his State of the Nation Address the following week, and has kept up its momentum as new cases of corruption are revealed. The latest chapter in the drama, as of the end of the week, was the president’s order for all government officials, starting with those working in the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) to be subjected to “lifestyle checks,” which was followed by the predictable parade of government personalities (including the President and officials of the Office of the Vice President, though not the Vice President herself) gamely avowing their willingness to submit to them.

It was the “lifestyle checks” thing that convinced me this sudden crusade of new-found morality had jumped the shark. The “lifestyle check” has been a go-to solution for rooting out corruption for decades, along with the threat to publicly disclose the “statement of assets, liabilities, and net worth” (SALN) that all government officials are required to file (that has also been brought up in the past couple of days), under the presumed premise that if one has a bunch of wealth, it must have been obtained by illicit means. The apparent crisis situation the country finds itself in with respect to corruption in flood-control project construction contracts is a rather damning indicator of how poorly the threat of “exposure” through either of those two means has worked over the years.

So, once President Marcos brought up the “lifestyle checks,” I realized, from my experience of being here through four presidential administrations so far, that the current drama is already near the end of the third act. Forget the dozens of pieces of proposed legislation that have been filed, forget the salacious hearings in the House and the Senate, forget the lifestyle checks or any official’s SALN revealing much. One or two greedy contractors, along with a few apparatchiks in the DPWH or other government offices, those too stupid or too reckless to adequately cover their tracks, will be sacrificed to complete the public relations exercise. Those who are good at what they do will lie low for a while, maybe even until the inevitable chaos of the turnover to a new administration in just under three years’ time, and the whole big corruption machine will start rolling again.

And yes, I realize that sounds terribly cynical, but tell me I’m wrong. Think about the unsatisfying outcomes of the so-called “priority development assistance funds” (PDAF) or “pork barrel” scandal of some years back, and how “pork barrel” rather quickly crept back into use in the form of the “budget insertion.” Or think about the near-constant incidences of corruption in agencies such as the Bureau of Customs, or the Bureau of Immigration. Consider these, and try to argue with a straight face that this time, things are going to somehow be different. 

I believe that where the Philippines fails, and as a consequence has earned a reputation for being a terribly corrupt country, is not necessarily because corruption exists, but because the people who are rightly offended by being ripped off by their officials in government, and those few in government who are sincerely offended by it as well fundamentally do not understand that corruption is part of the human condition. Every government since the dawn of organized society, no matter what its form, has been afflicted by corruption. And will continue to be so, because people are people.

The big mistake the well-meaning people in the Philippines make is in believing corruption is something that can be “stopped.” It cannot; even lily-white societies like Singapore and Japan have to continually fight it, which is why not a week goes by that the news from those places does not contain at least one story about some miscreant official or another being caught and punished for doing something out of line. China, as another example, literally shoots corrupt officials if they are caught doing something particularly egregious, and locks others away for very long prison terms for lesser offenses. And yet China continues to be universally regarded as one of the most corrupt countries in the world.

This is not to suggest that anyone should resign themselves to the reality of corruption, and just accept it as the cost of doing business, but thinking that one grand effort can actually end the problem and prevent it from recurring is equally unproductive, and as bound to fail. Fighting corruption is not an objective, it’s a process, and in the countries that have relatively low levels of corruption – the aforementioned Singapore and Japan, and some European countries, for example – anti-corruption efforts are a permanent part of the framework of governance. The Philippines has all the tools to do that in terms of laws and regulations, but simply cannot find a way to use those tools fairly, consistently, and efficiently. And until it does, these occasional public circuses of “exposing” corruption are going to continue to be regular occurrences, with no real change the status quo.

President’s independent commission will need support (Editorial, September 3)

THE announcement by President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. of his intention to form an independent commission to investigate the epidemic of corruption involving flood control projects is welcome news, and perhaps encourages some cautious optimism that meaningful reform can be achieved. The idea of an independent commission, however, is just one piece of a potential solution to the chronic problem of corruption in public works projects. Much will depend on how it is put together, the manner it which it will exercise the authority it can be given, and most importantly, how effectively other parts of the government, especially those not necessarily under the control of the president, will cooperate with the commission’s work. “The devil is in the details,” as the old saying goes, and there are a daunting number of details that must be addressed for there to be a chance that positive results can be achieved.

The first issue, of course, is who would be selected to serve on the independent commission. President Marcos said that he wants the members to have diverse backgrounds and experience, and that the commission would obviously have to include people with expertise in forensic investigation and legal matters. Candidates being consider would undergo strict screening to ensure impartiality and credibility, we have been told, with the president’s spokesperson adding, “[The commission’s] members must be truly independent and not engage in politics.”

That is reassuring, but on the other hand, those are minimal expectations. Besides legal expertise and sterling reputations without any hint of past or present conflicts of interest, the commission members will also have to include reliable people with strong subject matter expertise. People who have experience in public works project planning, execution, accounting, and safeguards are needed. For this, the president might consider including one or more people who have worked with one of the country’s development partners, such as the Asian Development Bank, World Bank, the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), or the now-defunct US Agency for International Development (USAID), even if only on an advisory basis.

The second potential problem we see as a risk to the commission’s effectiveness is the coordination with the judicial system. As described, the work of the commission will involve investigating and then preparing applicable cases for prosecution, with those involving government officials being sent to the Office of the Ombudsman for further action, and those involving non-government personalities going to the Department of Justice (DOJ). Both of those agencies will need to act with more alacrity than they have typically demonstrated to resolve these cases and make their prosecution an effective deterrent against similar crimes. It will not do for cases to languish for months or even years before action is taken, and one way that this could perhaps be prevented is for the Ombudsman and the DOJ to establish dedicated teams to focus strictly on cases sent by the investigatory commission.

Likewise, the judiciary should consider establishing dedicated courts to handle cases originating with the independent commission. It is fair to neither those accused in cases nor the public expecting justice to be carried out for court proceedings to be bogged down in endless delays, and slow justice undermines the principle of accountability that the leadership is trying to establish.

Finally, Congress will need to find it within itself to cooperate with the work of the independent commission by curtailing its own “investigations” through its endless appetite for conducting hearings of poorly designed scope and questionable effectiveness. These exercises in public image management have rarely resulted in significant and long-lasting positive reform. And while we expect those lawmakers who are heavily invested in the ongoing hearings would vehemently disagree with that observation, the fact that we are here now with a national crisis of corruption on our hands in no sense inspires confidence in the “investigation in aid of legislation” as a tool for change.

As President Marcos said, the work to develop the independent commission and codify its makeup and scope of work in an executive order is ongoing. We hope that work is being carried out with care, and an appreciation of what good for the nation it could accomplish if it is done right.   

The circus the country deserves

Rough Trade, September 9

I have a couple of useful topics for this week, but it hardly seems worthwhile to put them out for discussion while the entire country is still treading water in the tsunami of flood-control project corruption chatter, so I may as well ride the wave and share a few impressions from news and conversations that took place over the weekend.

The Manila Times’ front-page story yesterday (Monday) morning was frankly infuriating. The story covered statements by two senators, first the second-hand disclosure by Sen. Ping Lacson that an “Undersecretary Cabral” had called the office of Senate Minority Leader Vicente Sotto III to suggest that the senator could “insert whatever he wanted to insert” in the 2026 national budget for the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH). The second annoying statement came from Sen. Erwin Tulfo, who said that the requirement that one must be a contractor to become a member of the Philippine Contractors Accreditation Board (PCAB) was an obvious conflict of interest.

If you want to know why large-scale, institutionalized corruption persists in the Philippines, there are two of the many reasons right there. Lacson has styled himself as an anti-corruption crusader for his entire career in the Senate, and by all accounts he is personally upright; for example, he was always among the few legislators to decline his “pork barrel” allocation in years past. However, he has been marketing his “anti-corruption” personal brand for 18 years and counting (at the end of the current term, he will have spent 24 years in the Senate), with little to show for it; otherwise, we would not be where we are, just now learning the government has been bleeding P100 billion or more per year in taxpayer money due to just one specific category of corruption.

The national constituency would perhaps have greater confidence that the corruption scandal was being taken seriously if the likes of Sen. Lacson – and he is by no means the only one – would actually demonstrate seriousness. As opposed to, say, going on the radio over the weekend and floating innuendo about something that happened in someone else’s office like an old woman gossiping across the counter at the corner store.

For one thing, if it was Sen. Sotto’s staff who was involved in the alleged incident, then it should be Sen. Sotto who should comment on it. For another, fingering “an Undersecretary Cabral” as if everyone doesn’t already know who that is, or can find out with a click a two online, only makes the audience wonder if Lacson is actually describing a real incident. And if so, why he, or preferably his senate colleague who was targeted by an obvious ethical violation if not a criminal one, has not already prepared and filed the appropriate complaint before the Ombudsman. That is the proper, legally prescribed way to handle such things, and this was a call that was allegedly made more than three months ago.

If the effort to punish corrupt practices and take steps to prevent its recurrence is sincere, then perhaps a better approach would be to dial the self-righteousness down a couple notches, and actually take those steps. Of course, filing a case before the Ombudsman would mean making the story off-limits for attention-grabbing idle commentary, so the senator would have to find some different way to make a public display of looking busy.

Sen. Tulfo’s comments about the PCAB were baffling, to put it nicely. The PCAB has come under fire as part of the larger scandal for allegedly selling accreditations to fraudulent contractors, and that is obviously a serious issue that must be thoroughly investigated and prosecuted. But Tulfo wishes to review the enabling law for the PCAB, RA 4566 or the Contractors’ License Law, for the wrong reason, the fact that the law stipulates that only licensed contractors may sit on the PCAB board.

“How can they monitor, oversee, and regulate construction projects in the country, whether these are done properly, are not substandard, or are not ghost projects — if they themselves are also contractors? Clearly, there is a conflict of interest here,” he was quoted in the news story as saying.

Two things: First of all, that’s not what PCAB does. ‘Monitoring, overseeing, and regulating’ construction projects are the responsibility of the implementing agencies, the DPWH or whichever agency may be involved. PCAB is responsible for ensuring that contractors are properly qualified to do construction work, and conduct their business according to legal, ethical, and trade standards.

Second, the best people to judge whether a contractor meets the requirements for accreditation are, in fact, contractors. One would not, for example, assign schoolteachers to the accreditation board for nurses, or give electrical engineers the job of accrediting accountants. The Contractors’ License Law and the PCAB is an example of a good, or at least acceptably adequate system corrupted by bad people, or in other words, reasonable rules that were simply being flouted. The part of the broader scandal involving PCAB should be prosecuted on that basis.

In talking to ordinary people over the weekend, it is clear there is frustration with what is going on, but there is also a sense of resignation. The “investigations” and stream of shocking revelations, and the strident anti-corruption rhetoric coming from lawmakers and even the president and his officials is seen as being all for show; trivialized by those who should be doing something to fix it, probably because they all have at least a finger in the same honeypot. The people who are most frustrated by what is happening wonder why the Filipino people cannot stand up for themselves like their Indonesian neighbors. Maybe things don’t need to go as far as rioting and burning down officials’ houses, they say, but isn’t there even a little bit of that outrage here?

And they are exactly right. There is an old saying that people in democracies get the government they deserve; I get it, because I’ve watched that adage be proven true in the most horrifying way for the past eight months in my own country. With the current “flood control scandal” it is, not for the first time, being proven true here, too.

Flood control scandal: What’s happening, and what should happen next? (Editorial, September 13)

DEVELOPMENTS in the ongoing flood-control corruption scandal, which is quickly becoming the biggest political scandal in this nation’s history, are happening at such a rapid pace that it may be difficult to keep up with the news. We think it may be helpful to pause and take a look at where things stand at present, and what can be expected to happen in the coming days and weeks.

As of the end of the week, Friday, September 12, the scandal is being addressed in at least seven different bodies or departments. As noted in our front-page stories yesterday, the two most substantial developments of the past few days were the issuance of an Executive Order (EO 94) by the Office of the President creating the Independent Commission on Infrastructure (ICI) that will investigate anomalous government projects, and the filing of formal charges against two dozen Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) officials and private contractors by new DPWH Secretary Vince Dizon. This was announced earlier by President Marcos, but it took several days to develop the actual enabling order. The new commission will have three members, who are yet to be named, and will be given broad powers to investigate anomalies and forward cases for further prosecution to the appropriate offices, such as the Office of the President, the Department of Justice, the Ombudsman, or the Civil Service Commission.

In the absence of a Special Prosecutor or Inspector General’s office, the creation of the ICI is a good alternative, and can fill the gaps in the oversight of the Commission on Audit and the Office of the Ombudsman. The success or failure of the system being created, however, is entirely dependent on the competence and credibility of the people the president will name to the commission; that is not a criticism of the idea, it is just an acknowledgement of the unavoidable reality. If handled properly, the ICI has the potential to crush the culture of corruption in government and profoundly improve government reliability and efficiency. Therefore, the president must expect that his nominees to the panel and the work they will do will be subjected to extreme scrutiny.

The swift filing of criminal complaints by DPWH Sec. Dizon is encouraging as well, and indications are that he intends to continue doing so as sufficient evidence is collected against other conspirators. As with the creation of the ICI, this action is regarded as a good first step, but only one of many that must follow.

One concern that should be addressed as soon as possible, however, is that the Office of the Ombudsman is currently in a state of flux, under temporary leadership after the retirement of former Ombudsman Samuel Martires. The Ombudsman’s office has frankly never been a model of rapid action, and while we are certain that everyone there is diligently carrying out their duties, the unsettled appointment of a new Ombudsman is inevitably disruptive. This comes at a particularly inopportune moment, just as the number of cases that will have to be handled are likely to grow very quickly, and it leads to worries that resolutions of cases may be delayed.

Solving this problem falls squarely in the lap of President Marcos, who has yet to name Martires’ replacement, and has evidently been bothered a bit by the rather unseemly lobbying for the post by a few personalities. We realize that nominating a new Ombudsman is a difficult decision because of how critical the post is, but it is a decision that the president must make quickly.

Elsewhere, hearings on the flood control scandal are continuing in both the House Infrastructure Committee and the Senate Blue Ribbon committee, and based on some of the evidence and testimony that has emerged in those two proceedings, separate inquiries into officials or businesses that have been connected to the scandal have been initiated by the Bureau of Customs, Bureau of Internal Revenue, Department of Transportation, Department of Migrant Workers, and Commission on Elections. While the proactive approach being taken by the government in trying to bring the scope and scale of the corruption to light is certainly welcome, care should be taken to ensure that efforts are coordinated and vital information is properly shared.

***

I invite everyone to read the news and commentaries in The Manila Times, as there is a vast amount of additional information; some of our columnists, in particular, live and breathe this stuff. I don’t know if I will comment on it again – probably, although I am still trying to steer away from the topic, because, as I said, reasons. Though it may be the biggest story of the year, or of the decade, or ever here, there are still other things going on, especially in the energy and climate action lane I’m best at and most comfortable in. But, I’ll share updates when necessary.

Good Riddance

I woke up to this news this morning that neo-fascist “influencer” and “political commentator” – and those terms are doing A LOT of heavy lifting here – Charlie Kirk was shot and killed during a speaking engagement at Utah Valley College, which is, not surprisingly, located in Utah. The entire internet, every news organization, and every politician of any persuasion have lost their damn minds over the whole thing, and almost all of them for entirely the wrong reasons.

I had a couple of drinks earlier (to toast the unaliving of this disgusting piece of human garbage) and wrote a long, rambling piece wherein I tried to be reasonable about the incident and its implications. That ended up in a blind alley of incoherence, because there is no “being reasonable” in the state the world is in now, so I’ll give it another go, and try to stay on point.

Charlie Kirk was a fraud, a semi-bright loser with no talent or accomplishments to give him even a shred of self-esteem, who just happened to discover that one could make a pretty good living telling the shockingly large part of the American population that somehow manages to maintain both supreme arrogance and a victim complex – people just like him, in other words – exactly what they wanted to hear. Every word that dribbled out of his misshapen piehole was the worst sort of racist and misogynist vitriol, intended to inflame his audience to violence against their “enemies.” He didn’t deserve to be shot; he deserved to be stomped to death by an angry mob.

Miss me with your lamentations about “freedom of speech” and the First Amendment. Civics education has obviously taken a downturn since the years (long ago) when I was in school. The First Amendment guarantees free speech in that it protects us against having that freedom restrained in any way by the government. Charlie Kirk’s right to free speech was not violated in any way and never has been. The First Amendment, and the principle of free speech generally, does not protect one against disagreement, ridicule, or other consequences of the exercise of the right to free speech.  

“But he was murdered for what he said,” you protest. We don’t actually know that’s the case, as no suspect has been caught or motive uncovered as of this writing (just after 1300 UTC on September 11), but it’s a reasonable assumption, and one I’d like to be true. That is still not a “freedom of speech” issue, but rather a “murder is prohibited in general” issue. Should the shooter be caught and proven guilty, he (or she; I don’t want to be Charlie and make assumptions that women have diminished capabilities, I’ve known some gals who were excellent shots) must face the appropriate penalty. I would also assume that the person who did this understands that, and decided that offing that poisonous little toad was worth the price that would have to be paid.

“Political violence has no place in society” is a phrase I’ve seen with nauseating frequency today. I agree wholeheartedly; in fact, violence of any kind has no place in society. But I’ve got bad news for you, America, political violence has been sleeping on your couch and leaving the toilet seat up for close to 10 years already, ever since the Talking Bag of Diarrhea came rolling down his gold escalator and into politics. As I saw a few posters in Bluesky comment today, go up to the ICE Gestapo when they’re busting someone’s car window to pull him out and beat him up in front of his kids because he looks Hispanic and the Supreme Court just made racial profiling legal, and tell them “political violence has no place in society.” See how that works out.

You can bemoan “political violence” all you want, and in fact you should never stop condemning it, but that’s not actually dealing with it when it’s already here. As far as I’m concerned, the unknown shooter did his or her part in removing some of that political violence from society. The exchange is a bargain: One monstrous, hate-filled provocateur for the countless number of people who have been hurt or would be in the future by those spurred to act by his poisonous words. In the coming days and weeks, unfortunately, that same exchange is probably going to have to be made many more times, one way or another. The world didn’t beat the old Nazis with votes, or by filing lawsuits against them in the courts they rigged in their favor, and it sure as hell didn’t beat them by reminding them “political violence has no place in society.” It’s not going to beat the new Nazis that way, either.

Memories

 

FOR those of us who are of a certain age, not that I want to tell you how to handle your life and family, but maybe you should consider taking the chance of imparting some of your experiences on the youngsters.

I had a weird day, and decided to have a couple of drinks and put on my MOST AWESOME DISCO PLAYLIST EVER to unwind while I made dinner, ahead of my 20-year-old daughter/roommate returning from classes.

(by the way, if anyone is interested, the playlist can be found at: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2aR4jfU4krN2P4FYeXLl9M?si=-w9BMie3SrWJmuHRf8TXUQ&pi=2Z8i7fwxSaK8e) 

Ilona had an unusual and to be honest, rather ego-salving story to relate. She has a biochemistry professor, a soft-spoken, Bob Ross kind of guy, but one who occasionally drops a tidbit of personal history that indicates that this guy has seen some shit. He was an army nurse “in the war.” What army, and what war, no one knows. Today, he casually related to his class how one deals with radiation victims, without providing further context, other than saying it in such a way, according to my daughter, that made it clear he was speaking from first-hand experience.

What?! I have to meet this guy.

Anyway, the part of her report from today’s biochem class session that caught my attention was her interaction with this teacher when she handed in her quiz for the day (20 minutes ahead of all her classmates, because she’s really good at this). She said he gave her a curious look and then asked her, “are you Hungarian, or maybe Romanian?”

We are, in fact, of mostly Hungarian descent. Well, I am; she is half that and half Moro Filipino, but it’s my genes that won, and she could – as I have – land in Budapest and be assumed to be a native. She looks like my sister, actually. It is highly unusual for someone to guess our ethnicity, in any part of the world (outside Eastern Europe), and especially here in Asia. It’s only happened to me twice; once when I first met a Romanian expat of Hungarian extraction (he’s a good guy, I should look him up, come to think of it), and once when I met a Hungarian nun at a festival put on by the EU Mission and addressed her as nővér.

That started a conversation about heritage and family history, which segued into the always fascinating topic of “Dad When He Was Young and not Decrepit.” I caught her grooving along to the disco music, which was not a normal reaction, as she usually rolls her eyes so hard you can hear them and puts on her headphones when she walks in on my filling the house with my music, as young people should.

So, I committed the ordinarily unforgivable sin and asked her, “Do you like this music?”

She stopped and gave me a thoughtful look, “It’s not my speed, I gotta be honest. But...it makes me feel connected, somehow. I’m thinking about my professor today, and I feel like maybe...I don’t know what you call it, but maybe there’s a thread of history I’m connected to – our culture, and especially you. You listen to different music, usually, but you act different when you’re playing this disco stuff. Why?”

I grew up, came of age so to speak, across the latter half of the 70s and the first half of the 80s, and while my own musical tastes morphed from disco to new wave to punk across those years, it was the disco that imprinted on me. Not just the music, but the entire vibe of the world at that time. If there was one moment in history that I would say made me what I am now more than any other, I would say the summer of 1978 – the Summer of Sam. And god bless Spike Lee, I will always be a fan, because he nailed that shit.

For all its flaws and awfulness, the world when we were young still had some promise. I’m not sure it does anymore. So talk to your kids. Tell them how it was, and how you felt. What it was like to take five hits of mescaline and see lizards coming out of the walls. Or playing “midnight drive” with Brother Tom on the front lawn of the frat house in the dead of night, and counting the seconds until the golf ball  launched into the dark made the sound of hitting something a few blocks away, and trying to guess what that was. Or living under the perceived constant threat of nuclear annihilation. Or the AIDS epidemic. Or acid rain. Or making friends with Vietnamese and Cambodian refugee kids who suddenly appeared in school. For as scary as the world could be, there was always a sense that we were tougher and smarter than whatever it could throw at us, and that if we kept our hearts in the right place and did our best, we would eventually come out okay.

I don’t know if the world is like that anymore, and it saddens me more than I can describe. But the way of the world is up to us, so maybe if those of us whose better days are far behind share how we got to our ripe old age but still full of piss and vinegar, maybe the generations whose turn it is to run the world will find it in themselves to actually do it.