More than two weeks have passed since both houses of Congress passed the final version of the Maharlika bill. But until now, it has not been sent to the President yet, ostensibly due to last-minute corrections that are, by themselves, proving quite controversial. (To what extent can congressional staff still edit the bill without flouting legislative processes and stepping on the powers of lawmakers?)

Meanwhile, apparently in response to the discussion paper penned by UP School of Economics faculty members (myself included), Marcos Jr.’s economic team came out on June 13 with a new, short statement affirming their support for Maharlika, calling it a “necessary” “vehicle for growth.”

But instead of being a point-by-point answer to the issues raised in the UPSE paper, the new statement is more of a reiteration of the support of the economic managers, using assertions that are not really data- or evidence-based. 

Let us examine their statements here.

Afterthought

In the UPSE paper, we said that the MIF bill has “amorphous developmental goals and speaks of development only in the broadest possible terms.” Also, “it does not even make any reference to the Philippine Development Plan (PDP) 2023-2028.”

In reply, the economic managers said that Maharlika “operationalizes” the PDP, citing a part of the document that says the government will “diversify and explore alternative sources of financing,” and that “new instrument formats will also be explored to reach new markets and investors.”

The PDP doesn’t even mention anything about a sovereign wealth fund. If Maharlika were truly necessary, one would think it should be embedded in the PDP itself, which is the development plan that the government ought to follow from 2023 to 2028. 

Instead, Maharlika seems to be an afterthought.

The economic managers also claimed that MIF is “aligned” with the 2022-2028 Medium-Term Fiscal Framework (MTFF). But the MTFF mentions nothing about Maharlika – a pretty big omission considering the huge impact Maharlika will have on the public coffers, as well as the risks it will pose on the government’s deficit and debt. 

For instance, the government wishes to reduce the debt-to-GDP ratio from 61.8% in 2022 to 51.1% in 2028. But does this projection already include the possible macroeconomic impacts of Maharlika? Who knows? Again, Maharlika is an afterthought here.

Identity crisis

The UPSE paper also explained that Maharlika has “confused goals” because, in the first place, it does not know if it’s a sovereign wealth fund in the traditional sense (which seeks only financial returns) or a strategic investment fund (which seeks both financial as well as economic returns).

The economic managers replied that, “The objectives [of Maharlika] are clear: to invest funds that are available in government instrumentalities and utilize them for investment purposes on the basis of their individual mandates.” 

But the objectives aren’t clear. Maharlika will “invest funds” and “utilize them for investment purposes.” What does that mean? 

They also cited a World Bank publication (“Strategic Investment Funds: Establishment and Operations” by Shanthi Divakaran et al. 2022), specifically this passage: “Unlike public capital Specialized Investments Funds (SIFs), mixed capital SIFs are typically insulated from macrofiscal interdependence, especially when their anchor is a quasi-sovereign entity, because they are not considered part of the sovereign balance sheet and are usually not directly responsible for economic policy.”

So is Maharlika now a “mixed capital strategic investment fund,” and not a sovereign wealth fund? What is it, really? (Note that this is the first time they cited the relevant World Bank publication, after we mentioned it several times in the UPSE paper.)

Wishful thinking

The economic managers also said that, “The purpose of the MIC’s investments is to generate high returns so that national wealth is expanded and profitable socio-economic projects are financed and implemented.” 

So will Maharlika invest first in financial instruments, wait for returns (possibly after many years), and use earnings to invest in economic projects like infrastructure? Or will it invest in infrastructure from the get-go? 

Later in their statement, they attempted to clarify: “In principle, even if the MIC initially focuses on capital market investments which emphasize financial returns, this still has a tangible benefit through generation of financial income to the National Government which would ultimately redound to the benefit of the nation’s future socio-economic agenda.” 

But when might Maharlika earn from its financial investments: 5 or 8 years from now? Possibly near the end of the term of the President? And how large will be the returns? When will those be translated into tangible, useful public projects? 

The economic managers reiterated in their statement that “the expected return of Maharlika is estimated to be around 8.6% on average,” supposedly higher than the 10-year average return from Land Bank’s investments (4.23%) and the Development Bank of the Philippines’ investments (3.59%). 

Till now, the 8.6% return on Maharlika is just wishful thinking. Where did this magical figure come from? Nobody really knows.

Redundant

The UPSE paper also pointed out that Maharlika’s proponents failed to prove its “additionality” or value-added vis-à-vis other financing schemes and existing agencies of government. 

In their rebuttal, the economic managers merely asserted that Maharlika “does not overlap with the mandate of the [National Development Corporation]” – without any elaboration whatsoever.

They added that Maharlika “reduces heavy reliance on local funds and development assistance as the main financing mechanisms for infrastructure projects. By providing an alternative source to public infrastructure spending, there would be a bigger budgetary allowance for other priority expenditures.”

But until now they haven’t proven that infrastructure and other developmental projects will proceed faster and more efficiently with Maharlika than with, say, public-private partnerships or concessional loans. 

Incidentally, on June 14, the President certified as urgent a bill that will strengthen PPPs. If this can be done, what’s the point of Maharlika?

Also, the Palace is quite proud of the fact that President Marcos was able to get P3.48 trillion worth of investment pledges from his multiple foreign trips. Why not just work to follow up all those pledges? Or is that number just for show?

Threat to public coffers

The UPSE paper said that the preoccupation with Maharlika has “diverted attention from more vital and urgent national agenda,” including the reform of the military and uniformed personnel (MUP) pension system. 

In reply, the economic managers said MUP pension reform and Maharlika both “symbolize the Administration’s recognition that nations should begin finding ways to gradually close the gap in the budget deficit, and reflect the concerted efforts to promote continued fiscal sustainability.”

But will Maharlika indeed close the gap in the budget deficit and promote fiscal sustainability? There’s no assurance at all. In fact, it poses huge risks to the public coffers by endangering the health of state-owned banks and even the integrity of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP).

The economic managers said that “The public can remain confident in the stability of the LBP and the DBP even given their investment in the MIC. Limitations have also been established, i.e. investments should not exceed 25% of their net worth.” 

But forcibly taking P75 billion of seed capital from these banks already endangers these banks’ capitalization and financial health, as pointed out by UP Los Baños economics senior lecturer Enrico Villanueva.

The lack of Maharlika’s bankruptcy provisions also means that the government will implicitly shoulder any losses from, say, risky investments. This will not “improve the country’s fiscal resilience” – as claimed by the economic managers.

Maharlika also stands to eat away budget allocations from education, health, etc. by taking P50 billion directly from the Treasury as seed capital – more so if the government ends up shouldering Maharlika’s losses later on. 

The economic managers tried to allay fears by saying that “the founding GFIs, the National Government, and the BSP were consulted on their financial viability to support the capitalization of the MIC in its initial years.”

However, this is no assurance at all that the heads of these agencies are acting in the public’s best interest. 

According to Senator Risa Hontiveros, Government Service Insurance System (GSIS) President Wick Veloso is allegedly the mastermind behind Maharlika, the one who pitched this to President Marcos Jr. in the first place. Meanwhile, the use of BSP’s declared dividends for Maharlika will invariably delay the BSP’s own capital-raising efforts.

Little to no safeguards

The economic managers assert that the Maharlika bill “imposes enough safeguards to minimize risks” and cited some provisions like putative adherence to the Santiago Principles, the risk management committee, and accountability, transparency, and oversight measures. 

On the contrary, fatal flaws and omissions in the bill betray the fact that safeguards are sorely lacking. 

For example, how can Maharlika abide by the Santiago Principles if the Board of the Maharlika Investment Corporation is not insulated from political interference (note: all its members are presidential appointees)? 

How can accountability be ensured if the politically susceptible Board is overpowered (having the authority to oversee Maharliks’ investment processes, asset allocation, monitoring, and even risk management)? 

How can accountability be ensured if there are there are no repercussions for bad investment decisions, and if oversight is relegated to the Advisory Body (which also comprises presidential appointees) and Congress (most members of which also tend to be allied to the President)?

The economic managers mentioned that another safeguard is the Senate provision “absolutely prohibiting pension and social funds from contributing to the MIC and MIF.” 

But note that this is more of an afterthought. Recall that the original bill intended to rope in pension funds from the GSIS and the Social Security System or SSS.

Also, even Finance Secretary Benjamin Diokno himself said that GSIS and SSS can still choose to “subscribe” to Maharlika’s projects. So they’re not totally off the hook. The President also broached this possibility: “If the pension fund decides the Maharlika Fund is a good investment, it’s up to them if they want to invest in it.”

Mere assertions

Many of the economic managers’ counterarguments are just assertions.

For instance, the UPSE paper said that Maharlika “violates fundamental principles of economics and finance and poses serious risks to the economy and the public sector.” 

The economic managers replied that, “The legal framework provided by Senate Bill No. 2020…follows fundamental principles of economic policy and financial market participation in favor of and for the ultimate benefit of the Philippine economy and the Filipino people.” How exactly? There’s no elaboration.

Finally, the economic managers said, “The MIF is not only beneficial but necessary at this point in time… It is an ideal vehicle and well-positioned to bring in investments as the Philippine economic outlook remains robust amid the global economic slowdown.”

“Necessary,” “ideal,” and “well-positioned” are strong words, especially since they still haven’t proven the additionality or value-added of Maharlika. The global economic environment is not so promising either.

Most importantly, the extremely poor governance structure of Maharlika means that instead of being a “vehicle of growth,” as repeatedly touted by the economic managers, the fund could very well be a “vehicle for corruption.” 

Just look at what happened to Malaysia’s 1MDB, from which at least $4.5 billion was embezzled and channeled through shell companies and offshore accounts.

What’s the surname again of the former president who infamously used shell companies and offshore accounts to spirit away several billions of dollars of ill-gotten wealth? – Rappler.com

JC Punongbayan, PhD is an assistant professor at the UP School of Economics and the author of False Nostalgia: The Marcos “Golden Age” Myths and How to Debunk Them. JC’s views are independent of his affiliations. Follow him on Twitter (@jcpunongbayan) and Usapang Econ Podcast. 

The results of the studies all came to the conclusion that entry or market timing is not critically as important as exit. Success and failure of one’s trade depended more on when to sell. Those who made the studies also claimed that taking a position in the market can be as good as anytime, like by random entry. This was possible due to the mean-revertive character of the market.

Mean reversion, as they say, isa financial theory which postulates “that asset prices and historical returns eventually revert to their long-term mean or average level.”  

One of those who made a good deal of study on the matter is Van K. Tharp, whose story was that he lost all his account twice when he was starting to trade and who subsequently became the author of four acclaimed books, one of which is Trade Your Way to Financial Freedom. Tharp strongly attested that “Entry only plays a small part of the game of making money in the market.” 

Begging the question

Yet, efforts in finding ways to improve entry techniques cannot be neglected. Investors still have to watch out for the need “to minimize investment risk and remove the play of emotions” in the act of entry. Thus, while entry may not be essentially as important as exit, it remains to have a good role to make in the trading equation. Tharp has a nice term to it.  He calls it as “trading to beat random entry.”

For example, even experienced investors are stopped out of a good trading idea just because they entered early. The way the market has been moving in the last two months, I’m sure this has happened and continues to happen to many of us. We may have abandoned or thinking of abandoning a good stock pick because the direction of its market price is just unclear as of late.

We are also stopped out sometimes in our eagerness to enter too soon because of the “fear of missing out” or what is called FOMO in the market. This is a classic example of allowing emotional decisions to play in one’s entry.  

These are the common problems faced by beginners. However, these are also situations that are not uncommon to hound experienced investors.  

Just on these two examples, I believe they are good enough to serve as a sufficient basis to assume why a good entry still matters.  

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[ANALYSIS] How much ‘entry plays’ you need to succeed in your trade

Before we leave the subject, however, let me reiterate that even the proponents of good entry admit that the following are more contributory to a successful trade. These are exit strategy, risk management, and position sizing, to mention the three most critical factors.

We are told that there are only two reasons you should get out or exit a trade. These are when you take a loss or when you take a profit.  

There are many books available on these two subject matters. But let me add that in taking a loss, you may just go back to the recovery risk table I presented in my article on March 10. The said table shows the exponential return you need to recover.  It also shows you the level of loss you can reasonably play before you need to fold.  

Based on the table, you should not incur a loss of more than 20%. Otherwise, you’ll be like Tharp when he first started to trade.  

In taking a profit, there are qualitative and quantitative methods recommended. We’ll explore them sometime.   

Position sizing

Risk management is about “minimizing potential losses without sacrificing upside potential.” The principle behind it is based on analyzing the expected returns of an investment compared to the amount of risk taken on to earn those returns. This is a subject Tharp sufficiently addressed in his book in what he calls the R Multiple – a form of measurement of risk versus reward. To illustrate, if you buy a stock for P10 (risk) and sell it for P15 (reward) your R would be (P15 – P10) divided by P10] is equal to 0.5 or 50%.  Thus, enter a trade only where the R is high.

Position sizing is referred to as the method of determining the size of the shareholdings to be held by an investor. It is also referred to as the amount of money being traded in a given stock or asset.  Its application will help investors earn maximum returns and at minimal risk.

For proper position sizing, there are three factors to be properly weighed.  First is the account risk.  Typically, account risk is expressed as a percentage of the investor’s total capital.  As a rule of thumb, individual investors should not risk more than 2% of their investment capital on any given trade.  (Fund managers risk less than this amount.) With a P500k total capital, the investor is limited to risk P10k per trade only. The rationale behind this is that even if the investor loses 10 consecutive trades in a row, the impact is equivalent to only 20% of investment capital.  

Next is the trade risk. This involves determining where to place the stop-loss order for the specific trade.  For example, if an investor intends to buy SMC at P105 and place a stop-loss order at P185, the trade risk is P20 per share.

To derive the proper position size of the above information, divide the account risk of P10k per trade and the trade risk of P20 per share. This means the investor should only buy 500 shares (P10k/ P20) of SMC to achieve maximum returns at minimal risk.

So, what is a good entry point? We’ll take up this question next time as we analyze what is happening in the market as we usually do.  We devoted the whole article today just to raise the point that entry is an important part of the trading cycle, too.

Don’t miss the discussion on the different methods and/or techniques for finding good entry points. It will be next. – Rappler.com

(The article has been prepared for general circulation for the reading public and must not be construed as an offer, or solicitation of an offer to buy or sell any securities or financial instruments whether referred to herein or otherwise.  Moreover, the public should be aware that the writer or any investing parties mentioned in the column may have a conflict of interest that could affect the objectivity of their reported or mentioned investment activity.  You may reach “Thin Slicing” at densomera@yahoo.com.) 

While still in the car, an immediate check at the earthquake app that locates recent tremors detected by citizen scientists that maintain seismometers connected to the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman seismic network reported a magnitude 6.2 earthquake with the epicenter plotting off the east coast of Calatagan Peninsula in Balayan Bay, Batangas. The Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (Phivolcs) posted in its earthquake bulletin an offshore epicentral location to the southwest of the peninsula, magnitude 6.3, and felt intensity of IV in Quezon City.

Depth is significant

Posts on social media immediately followed, showing photos and videos of occupants evacuating high-rise buildings as well as shaking experienced along elevated highways captured by CCTV. Fortunately, there have been no reports of infrastructure damage (at least, none yet), although Phivolcs warned of potential damage to infrastructure and the possibility of aftershocks.

On April 22, 2019, a magnitude 6.1 earthquake – which was weaker by almost three times in energy released than the earthquake today at magnitude 6.3 – struck the provinces of Bataan, Zambales, and Pampanga and caused extensive damage to infrastructure, including collapsed commercial establishments, fallen church facades, damaged residential buildings due to liquefaction, and earthquake-induced landslides on the southern mountain slopes of Mt. Pinatubo.

Similarly, on February 15, 2003, an earthquake of the same magnitude 6.3 struck the island of Masbate in the central Philippines and caused significant infrastructure damage and ground deformation, including a surface ground rupture that left a coconut tree sliced into two about its axis. Interestingly, this same coconut tree was sliced anew after 17 years by the same fault during the magnitude 6.6 Masbate earthquake of August 18, 2020, which is quite a rarity in earthquake dynamics.

So why is there no infrastructure damage in Batangas, similar to what has been experienced in Zambales in 2019 and in Masbate in 2003?

The Batangas earthquake was generated by the rupturing of a fault located more than 100 kilometers deep into the asthenosphere, while the Zambales and Masbate earthquakes were generated by a fault source located at much shallower depths (less than 30 kilometers) within the crust. Two earthquakes of the same magnitude can cause varying degrees of damage to infrastructure. A deep focal source is expected to inflict less damage than a shallow one because the energy released at the source dissipates (loses strength) as it travels over distance.

Why is Batangas frequented by earthquakes? Where else?

Initial earthquake modeling by my graduate student Sandra using the concept of stress transfer indicates that today’s earthquake was likely generated by the same fault system that generated the sequence of earthquakes that struck the same area in the latter half of 2021. From July 24 to December 13, 2021, the offshore area to the southwest of Batangas was struck by at least six earthquakes with magnitudes ranging from 5.2 to 6.6. This area is prone to earthquakes because of the presence of the Manila Trench, a tectonic feature that marks the subduction of the South China Sea plate underneath Luzon.

In subduction, a slab of crust slides underneath another. The interaction between the two slabs initiates movements along faults that eventually generate earthquakes. Fortunately for today’s earthquake, the seismic waves originated from a deep source, thus the minimal to nil report on damage to infrastructure.

In the Philippines, there are six subduction trenches that are capable of generating earthquakes of similar or even greater magnitudes. Surrounding the entire archipelago with the exception of Palawan Island, these trenches are found west of Luzon (Manila Trench), west of Negros Island (Negros Trench), west of Zamboanga Peninsula (Sulu Trench), west of Mindanao (Cotabato Trench), east of Bicol to Mindanao (Philippine Trench), and east of Luzon (East Luzon Trough).

Earthquake drills paying off

Today’s earthquake disrupted school activities, including the exams taken by my class of graduating geology students, who obediently followed protocol in emergency evacuation. Other classes – some also taking exams (today is UP Diliman’s last day of classes for school year 2022-23) – and other offices and research laboratories were likewise interrupted. But because our institute participated in the National Earthquake Simultaneous Drill exercise held on June 8, 2023, the evacuation of the UP National Institute of Geological Sciences was carried out smoothly and successfully.

We hear from other sources that evacuation procedures in other parts of the metropolis and nearby provinces also were carried out successfully. This is a good indication that the simulated earthquake drills are paying off and will hopefully lead to a culture of earthquake resilience, where safety consciousness will become second nature to all Filipinos. – Rappler.com

The author, Mario A. Aurelio, PhD, is a professor at the University of the Philippines‘ National Institute of Geological Sciences (UP NIGS), interested in the study of earthquakes. He is listed in the 2023 Asian Scientist 100, together with 14 other Filipino scientists. Sandra Catugas is a master’s student at UP NIGS under the tutelage of Aurelio.

The current conflict is instead an acute symptom of a crisis that has plagued the country for decades. The people of Sudan have been suffering for far too long from political turmoil and economic instability. The escalating humanitarian needs have left many Sudanese in “survival mode.”

Last year alone, humanitarian needs reached their highest levels in a decade, with violent conflict and food insecurity among the many challenges people have been facing while significant flooding hinted at the country’s vulnerability to rapidly changing climate patterns. The situation was further worsened by the surge in fighting between armed groups in the Darfur, Kordofan, and Blue Nile states, which displaced more than 3 million people, almost 2.5 million in Darfur alone. 

Meanwhile Sudan also hosted more than one million refugees from neighbors such as South Sudan and Ethiopia, who themselves fled violence only to find themselves stuck in another conflict further affecting their ability to cope with their escape from misery and death.

Before the current conflict, our teams had raised the alarm drawing attention to the critical needs of people in West Darfur, emphasizing the urgency of scaling up the humanitarian response to the already fragile healthcare system. Now, our teams have witnessed first-hand the collapse of the health system and fast-growing levels of medical and humanitarian need across the country, placing great numbers of people in a life-threatening situation. The UN estimates a 57% increase in needs since December 2022. 

Since April 15, people in Khartoum and other states have suffered due to heavy fighting, airstrikes, and mass looting. Another wave of displacement of 1.4 million civilians is being reported as newly displaced, with women and children particularly affected. The current violence has led to shortages of food, water, medicines, and fuel, causing prices to surge and making it increasingly difficult for people to access medical care at a time when they need it most. In Khartoum, El Geneina, Zalingei, and other cities and towns where heavy fighting continues, people remain trapped, while many hundreds of thousands have been fleeing to safer areas of the country or across borders.

Despite immense obstacles, we remain determined in our commitment to support to the best of our ability the people of Sudan, providing critical health care to those in desperate need. Our teams are currently active in 10 states in Sudan, involved in various activities, such as treating war wounded individuals in Khartoum and North Darfur; providing health care and water and sanitation services to refugees, displaced people, and local communities in Al-Gedaref and Al-Jazeera states; and donating medical supplies to healthcare facilities across Sudan.

However, there has been a pattern of attacks on healthcare facilities and disregard for civilian lives that has made it increasingly difficult for Doctors Without Borders to deliver vital healthcare services during this critical time. For instance, in Nyala, south Darfur, we were forced to suspend activities after one of our compounds and warehouses were violently looted on April 16. In Khartoum, another warehouse was also looted and occupied, with medical supplies, fuel, and vehicles stolen. Fridges were unplugged and medicines left exposed and on the floor, meaning they can no longer be used. On April 26, the El Geneina Teaching Hospital, where Doctors Without Borders managed the paediatric and nutrition departments, was also looted, with parts of the hospital damaged or destroyed. The hospital remains closed following the attack.

The theft of supplies and vehicles, harassment of medical personnel, and the proximity of violence to healthcare facilities and infrastructure collectively impede the efforts of medical and humanitarian workers in responding effectively to the dire situation. These attacks are not isolated incidents specific to Doctors Without Borders. Rather, they are indicative of a broader pattern where warring parties show a disregard for civilian lives, infrastructure, and healthcare facilities. This trend poses a serious threat to the provision of essential healthcare services and exacerbates the already challenging conditions faced by the affected population.

Administrative and logistical challenges are also impeding Doctors Without Borders’s medical activities. Moving supplies from one part of Sudan to another can be extremely difficult. Similarly, although Doctors Without Borders was able to bring emergency teams into Sudan during the first weeks of the conflict, it has since been challenging to obtain permission for them to travel to project locations or secure visas for additional staff.

How can we possibly continue carrying out our activities without an acceptable level of protection for our staff and for the people unable to reach medical facilities due to constant threats and obtaining a level of accessibility of our supplies and teams to move and deliver aid? 

From our humanitarian experience in conflict zones, we know the scale of danger that conflict poses to civilians who cannot or choose not to evacuate, including medical staff who remain to provide care to the sick and wounded. Parties to the conflict must take all necessary measures to protect civilians from harm and ensure that those who are sick, wounded, or in dire need of medical support have access to healthcare facilities.

As I pen my closing words, I can’t help but wonder how many lives that should have been spared are being lost at this very moment. In the face of ongoing conflict and attacks on health care in various locations, it is imperative to ensure the safety of medical personnel and health facilities to ensure effective healthcare delivery. This entails enabling safe passage for ambulances and individuals seeking medical assistance, as well as facilitating access and rapid and unimpeded movement for humanitarian workers, organizations, and supplies to go where they are needed.

Too many lives are hanging in the balance, and we cannot stand by as people are put at risk. It is vital that civilians affected by the fighting are afforded access to emergency health care. – Rappler.com

Stephen Cornish is the General Director of Doctors Without Borders in Switzerland.

It was a massacre typical of the executions that had marred Rodrigo Duterte’s drug war, perhaps a brutal reminder that the bloodlust has not ceased. And the Navotas killings are just one instance of many under a new administration that has vowed to seek “recalibration.”

Romeo Agua was about to return home to feed his family’s pigs when soldiers from the 9th Infantry Brigade allegedly accosted and executed the 42-year-old on May 15, two weeks before the Sioson massacre, in Brgy. San Jose, Panganiban, Camarines Norte. Several gunshots to the head, and one in his mouth, supposedly finished Agua off. 

Nearly a month before, on April 14, Visayan activist leaders Manuel Tinio and Arthur Lucenario went missing reportedly at the hands of elements from the 47th Infantry Battalion. Tinio’s cadaver, riddled with seven gunshot wounds, surfaced in Ubay, Bohol on the same day. Meanwhile, Lucenario was pronounced a casualty in an alleged encounter between the military and New People’s Army rebels on May 12, three days before Agua’s murder. His body, however, bore signs of severe torture.

Five days after Tinio and Lucenario were forcibly disappeared, it was the turn of National Democratic Front peace consultant Rogelio Posadas and his companions to suffer the same fate. Posadas was summarily executed, reportedly by elements from the 23rd Infantry Brigade, while his comrades and drivers are still missing. 

When May beckoned, more killings ensued. On May 3, soldiers from the 94th Infantry Brigade allegedly snatched away and murdered farmer Crispin Tingal Jr. The military, as in Lucenario’s case, countered with the “NPA encounter” story. But Tingal’s family refuted the accusation: no, the farmer was far from a dangerous rebel. He was a loving husband and father, a disciple of the church, and an active stalwart of sustainable livelihood programs pushed forward by the government itself.

Two days after the Tingal murder, members of the police’s Special Action Force (PNP-SAF) killed chainsaw helpers Joel Balading Recare and Oscar “Oca” Alastoy in yet another alleged “encounter.” State troops tagged them as communists. Their families answered back: no, they were not rebels. Even the village chief in Palapag, Northern Samar cleared them of any red tags.

Alex Dolorosa was the paralegal officer of the union of BPO workers in Bacolod City when he went missing for three days in Brgy. Alijis. He, too, was murdered as April came to a close. Back in February, Danish national Tim Moerch and his Filipina partner, Myla Ozoa Vagas — suspects in the murder of a Negros Oriental local official — were executed mere hours after they were released from detention. Days before, a robbery suspect in Quezon City and another drug suspect in Naga City were murdered in separate police operations, with the cops peddling the timeworn excuse that the suspects had “fought back.”

This spate of killings do not only cover civilians, activists, or crime suspects. On the first Bonifacio Day under Ferdinand Marcos Jr., award-winning poet, National Book Award recipient, and peace consultant Ericson Acosta was murdered by the military. Months before that, on the first anniversary of the Aquino-Galman killings under the new Marcos, soldiers in Samar accosted underground movement leaders Benito and Wilma Tiamzon, with eight other guerillas, tortured them, then killed them. The military even allegedly staged a boat explosion to cover up the carnage. Nearly two weeks prior this writing, former student leader Joshua Sagdullas was among the four alleged rebels slain in a firefight with soldiers in Northern Samar — almost a month after yet another “clash” between soldiers and rebels snuffed out seven lives in another Northern Samar town.

The list is endless. The numbers are more restless: 323 drug-related executions, over a hundred killings linked to counter-insurgency, three slain journalists. These statistics, however, fail to reflect the entirety of the truth. More assassinations and murders occur in between; even local officials, such as Negros Oriental governor Roel Degamo, have been killed.

We can only wonder, why is this persistent bloodshed not hogging the headlines? The Romualdez-Arroyo-Duterte drama, Eat Bulaga, and other shenanigans almost bury the daily killings under the Marcos-Duterte regime.

Changing who sits in Malacañang has failed — and still fails — to guarantee an end to these killings. While Marcos’ rhetoric has steered away from Duterte’s vulgarity, and even as the International Criminal Court (ICC) achieves significant leaps in holding Duterte accountable, the reality on the ground has not been altered. The rate of impunity has not been trimmed down. Blood still flows along the streets of our country, but some of us have been lulled into believing that it is not the Marcos regime killing our people.

This regime kills. Like Duterte’s and his father’s. All that Filipinos must do is to take notice, document every single one of the killings, and clamor for an end to this bloodbath. – Rappler.com

Karl Patrick Wilfred M. Suyat is one of the three co-founders of Project Gunita, an academic and research organization focusing on archival material about the Marcos dictatorship. He is also a staffer of the Institute for Nationalist Studies and a member of the August Twenty-One Movement. Currently, he is also undertaking a Malikhaing Pagsulat sa Filipino associate course in the University of the Philippines-Diliman.

We are republishing this from marengwinniemonsod.ph with permission from the author. 

So far, I have pointed out seven inconvenient truths (all evidence-based) about the Philippine socio-economic situation, on the premise that we all have to know what we are up against so we can do something about it, rather than be fed by glowing reports that assure us that all is well. These inconvenient truths are:

Among the ASEAN-5, the Philippines has…

#1 – the lowest GDP per capita: a Filipino has the least income among the ASEAN-5. 

#2 – the most unequal distribution of income

#3 – the highest poverty headcount ratio

#4 – the highest learning poverty rate of 90.9%, meaning among 10-year olds, 9 out of 10 cannot understand what they are reading

#5 – the lowest Human Capital Index score of 0.52: A child born today will have 52% of the expected productivity she would have had if she had complete education and full health. 

#6 – in some international large-scale assessments, the lowest performance among all countries assessed. 

#7 – the highest infant mortality, the highest child mortality, the second-to-the lowest life expectancy. 

The next (and last) two inconvenient truths we must contend with are actually foundational, i.e., they are a major reason why the previous seven came to be in the first place.  

They have to do with good governance, which “is considered key to achieving sustainable development and human well-being. After all, sustainable development requires that those in power have respect for human rights and work towards eradicating poverty, addressing hunger, securing good health care and high quality education for their citizens, guaranteeing gender equality, reducing inequality, and so on.”

Let us proceed.

Inconvenient Truth #8

The eighth inconvenient truth concerns the rule of law in the Philippines. Rule of Law is “a principle of governance in which all persons, institutions and entities, public and private, including the State itself, are accountable to laws that are publicly promulgated, equally enforced and independently adjudicated, and which are consistent with international human rights norms and standards. It requires, as well, measures to ensure adherence to the principles of supremacy of law, equality before the law, accountability to the law, fairness in the application of the law, separation of powers, participation in decision-making, legal certainty, avoidance of arbitrariness and procedural and legal transparency (United Nations)”.  

A very important distinction is made (Fukuyama) between “rule of law” and “rule by law”. “Rule by law” refers to the executive’s (aka the President’s) use of law and bureaucracy as an instrument of power, while “Rule of Law” is when the executive itself is constrained by the same laws that apply to everyone else.  

Reader, I am afraid that we are under the rule by law, masquerading as the rule of law.  

The World Justice Project’s Rule of Law Index 2022 is the basis of Inconvenient Truth #8: The Philippines has the lowest score, and the lowest rank, among the ASEAN-5 as far as the Rule of Law is concerned. Our score is 0.47 (out of a possible 1.00), compared to Malaysia’s 0.57, Indonesia’s 0.53, Thailand’s 0.50, and Vietnam’s (0.49). These scores place the Philippines as ranking 97th out of 140 countries, compared to Malaysia’s 55th, Indonesia’s 64th, Thailand’s 80th, and Vietnam’s 84th .

What is so galling is that eight years ago, in 2015, the Philippines had a score (0.53) higher than everyone else, except Malaysia (0.57). As you can see, Reader, the Duterte administration really brought down the Philippines’ Rule of Law score and ranking – from 0.53 to 0.47, and from 51 out of 102 to 97th out of 140. One would have hoped that under President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., we would see those scores and ranks going up, but judging from what is happening in the Leila de Lima case and what happened in the Juanito Remulla case, that gleam of hope is fading. In the Philippines, the rule by law still reigns supreme.

Inconvenient Truth #9

Finally, we come face to face with the matter of corruption (from the Latin words “corruptio” or destroy, and “corrumpere” or destruction).  The shortest of the many definitions of corruption are the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development’s (OECD) “the abuse of a public or private office for personal gain” and Transparency International’s (TI) “the abuse of entrusted power for private gain”.  Just as good governance is tightly linked with the rule of law, so is it tightly linked with the fight against corruption.  

Well, how does the Philippines fare, vis-a-vis the ASEAN-5, corruption-wise?  Using TI’s Corruption Perception Index (CPI) 2022 as the metric, here is Inconvenient Truth # 9: The Philippines has the lowest score (higher is better) and the lowest rank among the ASEAN-5, i.e. it is perceived to be the most corrupt. Where Malaysia’s score is 47 out of a possible 100, giving it the rank of 61st out of 180 countries, Vietnam’s is 42 (77th), Thailand’s is 36 (101st), Indonesia’s is 34 (110th), and the Philippines’ is 33 (116th).

And just as what happened with the Rule of Law Index, just eight years ago, Philippines was at par with Thailand with a score of 38, and had a higher score than either Indonesia (34) or Vietnam (31). What happened in the interim? The Duterte Administration, that’s what.  

But I want you to focus on Vietnam’s performance: It scored 31 in 2014, ranking 149th out of 174 countries. In 2022, it scored 42, rising in rank to 77th out of 180, in the top half of the countries monitored. An increase in score of 11 points, and an increase of 72 in rank, all within eight years. That is a phenomenal performance. But not as good as the Philippines’ performance between 2010 and 2014, under the administration of the late President Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III! In that 4-year period, the Philippines improved its score (became less corrupt) by 14 points (24 to 38) and also its ranking (from 134th out of 178 countries to 85th out of 174 countries – the only time we ranked in the top half of the countries.  

How did the administration of President Noynoy Aquino accomplish that? If you will remember, Reader, we had the Three Furies then: Leila de Lima as Secretary of Justice, Conchita Carpio Morales as Ombudsman, and Grace Pulido Tan as Commission on Audit chair. We also had the likes of Rogelio “Babes” Singson in the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH).  All fearless and incorruptible. That’s how.  

I hope we can do it again, because, to quote the International Monetary Fund, “promoting good governance in all its aspects, including by ensuring the rule of law, improving the efficiency and accountability of the public sector and tackling corruption, [are] essential elements of a framework within which economies can prosper.”

What are we waiting for? – Rappler.com

Solita “Winnie” Monsod was the first National Economic and Development Authority secretary appointed after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship in 1986. She is a professor emerita at the UP School of Economics where she taught starting 1983. She finished her degree in economics in UP and obtained her masters in economics at the University of Pennsylvania. She is a board director of Rappler Inc.

This penchant for solitude invaded my student life. I diligently kept myself occupied in school, at home, and in my trips to and from. The words individual outputs have also sounded more pleasant than group projects.

Now, I don’t resent collaborative efforts. God bless my peers who’ve made them worth accomplishing to begin with. However, after experiencing both commitments for over a decade, I can affirm that my one-woman undertakings have opened far more doors. In fact, being this dedicated lone ranger has brought success to one of my most resolute pursuits to date — my undergraduate thesis. 

Of course, it wasn’t like this from the get-go. Prior to conquering two semesters’ worth of research alone, I did the same four years ago with my three most cherished high school friends. We didn’t even call it a thesis class back then, but Practical Research — too forward and formal. No different from the shackles of Verdana and 180-point quarterly tests we were chained to. We braved chaotic group chats, onslaughts of information, and splitting printing expenses among ourselves. We also had not the slightest clue how to navigate Google Sheets — a tool that, in retrospect, would’ve easily spared us from the horrors of data computation in our 50-page appendices. The whole school year, we vowed to never lose sight of the fruits of our teamwork. Whatever pointed critiques we received, we took in stride until we marched up the graduation stage as our batch’s best researchers.

If you told me that same year that I’d be down three groupmates in college and still pass my thesis defense with an accolade of a similar caliber, I’d laugh in your face. 

Nevertheless, I’ve leapt over that hurdle and stuck the landing. 

Funnily enough, I knew what going solo was going to get me into. I knew I’d have triple the responsibilities and deliverables of those in pairs and trios. I knew that data-gathering, my defense deck, printing expenses, and answering panel questions were all on me. I knew I’d have no extra eyes to pinpoint typos and spacing oversights that I’d miss out of perpetual drowsiness. Well, except my adviser at consultations. Why else would I have asked for tips and caveats from last year’s individual researchers? The legwork was a no-brainer. Turning the saying “no man is an island” on its head, however, was a different story. 

A heart’s a heavy burden. Even more so is spending roughly nine months (but who’s counting?) glued to my thesis topic — on campus journalists’ plight and peril, no less. The push and pull of trust I’d wring through my study. The university chapel prayers, brows knitted and hands clasped, that my progress wouldn’t go askew. Foraging virtual libraries for factually accurate iterations of saying, “Yes, this is an actual problem that requires the media’s utmost attention.” The impending doom of defense day three months ago, realizing only after that nerve-wracking hour and a half that I had nothing to worry about. Teams of two or three researchers shared the pain all these obstacles instilled. I, on the other hand, had the world’s baggage on my shoulders. 

That was the hardest part. 

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Our theses were “marathons” to our advisers. In their eyes, no matter how starkly our paths contrasted, we crossed the same finish line. We chased the same deadlines, shared the same calls for informants, and eventually stood our ground beaming with purpose. Still, even the academic parallels that bolstered us couldn’t banish the vividly distinct memories we chronicled along the way.  

Before the second semester, I was asked about mine. Specifically, how groupmate-less research was going. I couldn’t wrap my head around my friend’s reaction, let alone decipher whether it was sincere or feigning pity. He said I looked happy rambling about my thesis. I, riddled with eye bags and blotches of acne, looked happy — in control, even — discussing how critical discourse propelled press freedom to utmost prominence. 

Surely, he was pulling my leg. Nobody looked that elated over their study until its completion (or, in my case, a Best Thesis nomination). That, and the fact that I lied to him. My choice was firm, yes. Upholding it? Not so much. 

He was right about the “in control” part, though. With individual research, control was all I had. I needed to fortify my grasp on chapters one through six. No one else was going to lighten the load, anyway. I didn’t micromanage my study solely out of expectations, either. I just had passion. Heaps of it that couldn’t be faked. I wasn’t the most skilled at honing it, but it was there. Bouncing off the walls in my head, staying anything but still. It spilled out of my mind and onto an 80-page knowledge bank. 

I couldn’t have anyone else translate my passion to paper, let alone believe their words over mine. That’s what kept me going — festering distrust over my lack of friendships tested by fire. To quote an illustrious mainstay from our department: “An individual thesis is doable at your social life’s expense.” And to that, I quote Andie Anderson: I couldn’t lose something I never had.

Senior year saw me grappling with this case I couldn’t cure. Too caught up in related literature and discussing my findings, I learned too late that it wasn’t my decision I had to change, but how I perceived the options I didn’t entertain. 

On social media, it was like living vicariously through my batchmates’ shared endeavors. The brainstorming-turned-bonding sessions. Exploring the metro until sundown. Blowing off steam after migraine-inducing data analyses. As I cheered them on, I thought, “I want that for myself.”

I still struggle to accept this perspective today. Would the rest of the batch have known that I’m actually quite fond of togetherness? That I even miss it every so often? Now, entering my employment era, I wonder if my future colleagues can tell that I don’t always keep my thoughts to myself. I want to know if they agree that spaces are sometimes better shared than confined in solitary bubbles collecting dust.

My thesis could’ve gone several riskier, more thrilling, and spontaneous ways. I simply chose what worked best for me, and it hasn’t failed me once. But looking back on these neighboring roads I indeed could’ve taken, I hope I still have it in me to make room in my heart for company. Perhaps there is no harm in small talk over water coolers, grabbing coffee with my deskmate, or mounting projects with new hires to achieve lasting impressions. 

The fruits of my batch’s know-how have proven our eagerness and capability to change the world. Who’s to say doing so with like-minded people won’t get us anywhere? – Rappler.com

Andrea G. Posadas is a a graduating AB Communication student from the Ateneo de Manila University. 

Ilang linggong nakalipas noong ipinahayag ng Mathematical Society of the Philippines (MSP) ang pinal na koponan na binubuo ng anim na miyembro na kakatawan sa Pilipinas sa International Mathematics Olympiad (IMO) ngayong taon. 

Bilang konteksto, ang IMO ay kabilang sa pinakaprestihiyosong kumpetisyon na maaaring salihan ng isang mag-aaral mula sa paaralang sekundarya. Ito ay nangyayari ng isang beses lamang sa isang taon, kaya ang bawat bansa ay nagsisikap na magpadala ng anim sa pinakahusay na estudyante sa kanilang bansa upang kumatawan sa kumpetisyong ito. 

Matapos ipahayag ang ikaanim na representatibo, may pamilyar na pakiramdam sa aking dibdib na naramdaman ko na rin sa mga nakaraang taon na anunsyo: lahat nanaman sila ay pawang mga lalaki. Ito ang pakiramdam ng inaasahang lumbay at hinayang na walang babaeng nakapasok muli. 

Sa paglipas ng taon, ito ay naging karaniwan at inaasahan na. Ang huling pagkakataong lumahok ang isang Pinay sa IMO ay halos isang dekada na ang nakalipas; noong 2014 si Ma. Czarina Angela Lao ay nakakuha ng honorable mention sa kumpetitsyong ito. Sa 35 taong ng ating partisipasyon, sa 119 na estudyanteng kumatawan sa Pilpinas, apat lamang na kanila ay babae. 

Iyan ay halos tatlong porsiyento lamang. 

Anim na taong gulang pa lang ako nang sumali ako sa kauna-unaunahang kong kumpetisyong sa sipnayan noon 2011. Sa parehong taon, si Carmela Antoinette Lao ay napili para sumali sa kanyang huling IMO bago siya nagtapos sa kanyang pag-aaral sa parehong eskuwelahan na aking pinasukan. 

Nakilala noon si Carmela Lao bilang kauna-unahang Pinay na nakakuha ng medalya sa IMO. Makikita siya sa ulo ng pahayagan at mga patalastas ng mga tatak (hal. Jolibee), at ngayon siya’y naging quant trader sa ibang bansa. 

Hindi ko pa masyadong kilala si Carmela noon, at hanggang ngayon, ang alam ko lang sa kanya ay ang mga impormasyon na maaring hanapin sa Google, ngunit gayunpaman, nang malaman ko ang tungkol sa kanya, napaisip ako na baka ako ang susunod na Carmela Lao ng aking henerasyon! 

Noong ako’y sampung taong gulang at marami na rin akong sinasalian na kumpetisyong sipnayan, ang mga lalaking kakumpitensya ko’y puro sina Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking, at Isaac Newton ang kanilang mga huwaran, at wala akong maisip na sikat o tanyag na babae sa larangan ng sipnayan upang makisali sa kanilang pag-uusap. 

Sa panahong iyon, namulat ako sa agwat ng kasarian na umiiral, hindi lamang sa maliliit na kumpetisyong sipnayan kundi pati na rin sa mas malalaking antas, tulad ng sa mga larangang nauugnay sa STEM. Ang kakulangan ng babaeng representasyon ay hindi agad-agad na nangyayari; sa halip, ito ay nagsisimula at lumalaki sa loob ng ating mga tahanan at silid-aralan. 

Ayon kay Pasquantonio (2016), kahit anuman ang pag-uugali o tagumpay na nakamit ng isang mag-aaral, mas minamaliit ng mga guro ang kakayahan ng mga babaeng estudyante sa larangan ng sipnayan. Bilang resulta ng pagmamaliit, ang epekto nito ay nadadala na rin kahit sa mga tuktok ng klase. Sa unang baitang palang, kumakatawan na ang mga babaeng estudyante ng mas mababa sa isang katlo ng 90th percentile. 

Kapag nagsisimula ang agwat sa murang edad ng pitong taon, malinaw na may mga salik na lumalampas pa ng silid-aralan, kabilang dito ang mga ideyang tradisyonal na patuloy na umiikot sa ating lipunan at kultura. 

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Ang isang ulat ng United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) ay nagsiwalat na, sa kabila ng pagiging mahusay ng mga Pinay sa sipnayan, ang mga lalaki pa rin ang labis na kumakatawan sa mga nangungunahing gumaganap sa halos lahat ng mga rehiyon. Ito ay malamang dahil sa pagkiling ng isang kasarian o mga estereotipo sa kababaihan.

Sa kabutihang palad, may mga paraan para maibsan ang isyu. Ang pagbibigay ng pansin sa mga detalye, tulad ng mga huwaran sa mga silid-aralan at mga larawan na ginagamit sa mga aklat-aralin, ay maaaring gumawa ng makabuluhang pagkakaiba. Ang mga bansang tulad ng Thailand ay nakapagtatag na ng patakaran na nagbabawal ng diskriminasyon ng kasarian sa kanilang silid-aralan upang matiyak na rinerepresenta ang lahat.

Habang ang agwat ng kasarian sa sipnayan ay tila hindi gaanong mahalaga kung ikukumpara sa bigat ng ibang mga isyu sa Pilipinas, gayunpaman, ang puwang na ito ay maliit na larawan sa tunay nitong implikasyon. Makakatungo lang tayo sa isang solusyon para sa mas malawak pa na isyu kagaya ng agwat ng kasarian sa trabaho, suweldo, at maging ang karapatang pantao kung itutuon natin ang maliliit na isyu kagaya nito. 

Sa mga susunod na taon, malabong masasaksihan ko ang susunod na Pinay na lalahok sa IMO, ngunit umaasa ako na sa pamamagitan ng sama-samang pagsisikap, maaari nating bigyang-daan ang normalisasyon ng kababaihan sa sipnayan at sa ibang aspeto ng STEM. – Rappler.com

Si Alexandra Brianne B. Gochian, 17, ay kasalukuyang nag-aaral sa Pamantasang De La Salle bilang Senior High School na estudyante. Siya ay aktibong kalahok sa mga kumpetisyong sipnayan mula pa noong siya ay anim na taong gulang at kamakailan lamang na kinilala ng Senado dahil sa kanyang pagkapanalo sa World Interntional Mathematics Olympiad. Bukod sa sipnayan, sumasali rin si Alex sa mga kumpetisyong agham at pampublikong pagssalita.

The two had met in Yokohama in 1899. Ponce was then a pioneering Filipino diplomat tasked to solicit Japanese support as Filipino forces battled an invading American army. Sun, on the other hand, was then a noted intellectual eager to learn about Japan’s transformation from a backward country to a world power.

At a dinner hosted by the renowned former samurai and future Japanese prime minister Tsuyoshi Inukai, Sun was visibly impressed by Ponce’s stories of Filipino exploits against both Spain and the United States. Ponce drove home the point that all Asian peoples have a duty to aid the Filipino cause, and Sun took his message to heart. Taking huge personal risks, Sun arranged for a stealthy shipment of Japanese arms to support the Philippine Republican Army, but the steamship carrying the guns tragically sank off the coast of Shanghai.

Sta. Romana’s reference to this episode was a refreshing reframing of the usual historical narrative that Chinese officials like to emphasize when extolling Philippines-China relations. The Chinese vice foreign minister in the audience said he was touched by the story. Before that, their favorite anecdote had been the visit by a sultan of Sulu to Ming China in the 15th century, which marked a milestone in the long history of Filipino-Chinese cultural exchanges. But while the story of that visit is an important symbol of the filial ties that bind the two peoples, it also harks back to a different international order that existed in Asia in the pre-modern era. At that time, China was the “middle kingdom,” the prime civilization that many Asian cultures sought to emulate. Eager to learn from Sinic ways, many of these cultures acknowledged Chinese pre-eminence. 

But unlike the sultan of Sulu who had to kowtow to the Chinese emperor, it was the Chinese founding father who was eager to learn from the Filipino diplomat when the two met in Japan. The story of their meeting and subsequent collaboration was part of a bigger story of a Chinese re-discovery of the Philippines at the turn of the last century, and how this re-discovery helped spark a nationalist awakening among the Chinese people. 

This story could trace its roots to 1793, when a British diplomat sought to establish trade relations with the Qing dynasty. The latter was shocked by the western envoy’s audacity to treat the Chinese emperor as an equal of the English king. In the Chinese conception, the middle kingdom was preordained to sit atop the universal pecking order, and therefore deserved paeans from all rulers of the world. The British, however, were operating under western norms arising from the outcomes of the Westphalian conferences of 1648, which dictate that all states are equally sovereign. For them, keeping the appearances of treating the Chinese as an equal despite the obvious superiority of British power was already an act of magnanimity. Naturally, the clash between these two worldviews resulted in a humiliating outcome for China. 

It took two Opium Wars in the 1800s for the Chinese to accept that they were no match to western technology and therefore powerless to defend their domestic authority, let alone enforce their worldview. The British, followed by other western powers and then Japan, viciously extracted concessions after concessions from the decaying Qing dynasty. The Chinese had no choice but to acquiesce and to endure what they now refer to as the “century of humiliation.”

Meanwhile, at around the same time, a modest but unprecedented economic transformation was unfolding in the Philippines. International trade had been rapidly globalizing, and Manila had become one of its nodes. This led to the emergence of a local middle class that naturally craved education and empowerment. In 1812, Spain enacted the Cadiz Constitution, which started a wave of liberalization that eventually reached Philippine shores. The opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 further exposed this new Filipino middle class to liberal ideals. In 1880, Filipino students in Europe, inspired by Enlightenment principles, formed the Propaganda Movement and started articulating the philosophy that would later underpin the Philippine Revolution of 1896.

Unlike their Chinese contemporaries, the Filipino elite fully understood western norms. They knew that while these norms adhered to the Westphalian notion of a community of states operating as sovereign equals, they also required that nations must first prove themselves worthy of membership in the said community. And so, after having forced Spanish forces to a standstill in 1897 and then, following a short interlude, virtually defeating them in 1898, Filipino leaders declared independence and cloaked their movement with the full panoply of western-style statehood. Having already formed a modern army, they drafted a democratic Constitution, formed a parliament and a judicial system, dispatched diplomats, minted coins, and printed stamps. The Philippines was asserting its place in the club of nations. 

Within a year, however, the Americans decided to steal the Philippines from the Filipinos, sparking a protracted war that proved Filipino mettle and inspired many Asian peoples, including the Chinese. It was in the midst of the Philippine-American War that Sun sought out Ponce in Japan and moved mountains to help the Filipino cause. Some historians think that Sun saw in an independent Philippines a possible ally to the Chinese revolution. While this might also be true, his main motivation was likely sentimental. I suspect that he saw the Philippines as he saw Japan: an example of what the Chinese people could achieve if they overcame some of their philosophical shackles.

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One of these is their Confucian conception of power correlation, which is based on the concept of the li. Crudely translated into western philosophy as natural law, the li emphasizes harmony in social relationships between student and teacher, servant and master, emperor and subject – and basically strong and weak. It is a profound concept that cannot be oversimplified, but one of its basic premises is the idea that power disparities are somehow metaphysically preordained. 

On one hand, this premise informed the Chinese conception of a hierarchical world order with China at the center. Since the Chinese had never met a culture more advanced than theirs, they proudly imagined an international system revolving around China as the beacon of civilization, with other cultures finding their place along concentric orbits according to their proximity to Sinic ways. On the other hand, the same premise petrified the Chinese into inaction in the face of clearly superior western forces that were overturning this Chinese centrality and overrunning their own homeland.

Yet before the eyes of the Chinese elite, the Filipinos shattered this premise. By standing up against Spain and then the United States, the Philippines upended the logic of the li, prompting some profound self-reflection among China’s thinking class. In her 2002 book Staging the World: Chinese Nationalism at the Turn of the Twentieth Century, American historian Rebecca Karl dedicated an entire chapter to how the Philippines influenced China’s nationalist awakening. She quotes, among others, Cantonese public intellectual Ou Jujia, who wrote:

“They (the Chinese elite) have lost all hope. Their level of thinking stops at a conviction that to be strong is sufficient for taking advantage of the weak; to be big is sufficient for taking advantage of the small; to be numerous is sufficient for torturing the few. They have no knowledge of the fact that strong and weak have no definite form; big and small do not define strength; numbers do not define principle; that self-reliance can turn weak into strong, self-strengthening can turn small into big, and the unity of the people can turn the few into the many.

“Just look at the small islands of the Philippines led by native people opposing the preeminent rising power of the world, America…. So, what of our China, with its vast territory and huge population, which is thousands of times bigger than the Philippines? If the Philippines can be self-reliant, what is the logic behind the claim that China cannot be? Please, let us now consider the Philippines.”

As Karl noted, Ou’s writings reflected the emerging sentiments then of the Chinese intelligentsia, which effectively challenged the validity of such “seemingly immutable categories” as “civilization,” “strong,” “weak,” “big,” and “small” – concepts that formed a central part in classical Chinese philosophy. The Philippines, after all, had been on the fringes of the Sinocentric world order, barely a bearer of Sinic civilization. Yet here it was now, providing a model for a weakened China to confront an ascendant west. 

The future jurist Liang Qichao, who at that time was among China’s most famous public intellectuals, drove home this point by publicly professing that he “must kowtow” to “the Filipino,” for “he has twice waged war against the white man, and never faltered despite difficult odds.” Finally, the Chinese were beginning to shed their middle kingdom pretentions.

Alas, the First Philippine Republic eventually lost to overwhelming American power. As Filipino defeat became imminent, the leadership diverted some of the Japanese arms intended for the Philippines to the Xinhai Revolution in China, then already being led by Sun. The Filipinos then shifted to quietly pursuing freedom through the dexterity of their pens and the eloquence of their tongues rather than the might of their guns. But in the mainland, where the Chinese translation of Ponce’s book on the Philippine Revolution began to circulate widely, the philosophical liberation that the Filipino movement helped spark unleashed an unstoppable tide that eventually led to the founding of a new China, of which Sun became the first president.

Like their Filipino counterparts, the early leaders of this new China aligned themselves firmly with the struggles of the subjugated peoples of the world. Communist thinker Zhou Enlai became a stalwart of the Bandung movement that laid the foundation for traditional solidarity among countries of the global south. Today, China has become confident enough to set about fulfilling the Chinese dream of national rejuvenation, and Filipinos can be proud to have played a small part in the rich history behind this remarkable Chinese transformation. – Rappler.com

JJ Domingo is a career foreign service officer. He was posted in Beijing from 2017 to 2020. The views expressed here are his own and do not necessarily reflect the official position of the Department of Foreign Affairs.

The date we consider as Independence Day has been controversial since time immemorial and it will certainly continue to be. It’s a tricky thing to answer, but the trickier question seems to be, have we ever really been free? 

It sounds like a philosophical question, but it is also political. More than a century has passed since, yet we still find ourselves plagued with the same (or even worse) sociopolitical issues. While we continue to celebrate Independence Day, it is also important to remember that we have not been liberated. The same problems have just been translated to the more complex language of modernity.

Executions of those who fight for liberation have been translated to extrajudicial killings. Colonialism has been translated to imperialism. The exploitation of resources and the environment has been translated to the extreme impacts of climate change. We continue to bear the brunt of the effects of colonialism, and more.

Unfortunately, true liberation means more than just picking a date when we commemorate Independence Day. After all, freedom demands to be continuously fought for. Especially in a country that coddles foreign powers and is vicious to its own people.

There are many aspects that go into our lack of liberation, some of these being the state of human rights, education, and our environment.

It appears as if the state has no problem violating human rights, especially of those who choose to fight for genuine liberation. Extrajudicial killings are not new or few in the Philippines, many victims of this phenomenon being activists. In February of 2022, news broke out that five individuals who were variously Lumad teachers, community volunteers, and human rights defenders were killed in Davao de Oro. They are now referred to as the New Bataan 5. The AFP claimed that they were killed in an encounter with the NPA but the NPA denied this. Those who were killed were not armed rebels.

Duterte’s anti-poor war on drugs also added at least 6,252 victims to the EJK statistics as of May 31, 2022. This war has not ended under Marcos Jr.’s current administration.

Some we find killed, and some we have not found at all. Another common human rights violation in the Philippines are enforced disappearances. Many activists, peasants, workers, and organizers have been abducted by the state force as a form of political repression. Bazoo de Jesus and Dexter Capuyan were just disappeared last April. 

There are also those we call political prisoners who have been jailed for their political stance. This is how Reina Nasino lost Baby River. Authorities refused to let a mother care for her sick child.

Those who suffer these human rights violations are also red-tagged to justify violence against them. They are called communists, or rebels, or terrorists for fighting for liberation. In our country, they equate fighting for liberation with terrorism.

In the aspect of education, the Philippines is also not doing so well. According to Sara Duterte’s Basic Education Report (BER) last January, the Department of Education faces many challenges in delivering basic education to Filipino students. Among other things, there continues to be a lack of school infrastructure and resources. We can also hark back to the struggles of teachers as they lack support. Remember what happened to laptops for public school teachers? They ended up being sold to retail stores instead of going to teachers.

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In the middle of all of this, many Lumad schools were also shut down. In 2019 alone, 55 Lumad          schools were forced to stop operating. As an attempt to justify these shutdowns, specifically the Salugpungan schools, Sara Duterte red–tagged the volunteer teachers. According to her, they had links with terrorists. The Lumad schools also suffered harassment from the Duterte administration, with Duterte himself threatening to bomb the schools. 

Amidst all of this flak, it is important to remember that these schools exist solely to help Lumad children who want to learn and complete their education. They are taught what is expected of in basic education as well as sustainable agriculture, and indigenous arts and culture. They learn that liberating themselves starts with education. Why is the government so against this?

Systems and institutions that are supposedly there to free us, such as human rights and education, continue to fail and oppress us. But even at the very basic level of the environment, we are chained and unfreed. Related to the closing of Lumad schools, indigenous peoples in our country who are in the frontlines of environmental defense are continuously red-tagged and violated. They are driven out of their ancestral lands so that their resources can be exploited by foreign companies. 

According to a report by Global Witness in 2022, the Philippines remains to be the deadliest country in Asia for land and environmental defenders. In the last decade, 270 of them have been killed. In 2022 alone, 19 defenders were killed, most of them being indigenous people.

Amidst all of this, we continue to feel the most intense impacts of climate change. The summer heat was almost unbearable. PAGASA has also warned that El Niño may develop from June to August of this year. It can also persist until next year. Not only that, we are also bearing the brunt of extreme rainfall and intensified typhoons. With dwindling trees, we continue to be more and more prone to rising floods. Our coastal communities are also more vulnerable to storm surges. Our small islands, meanwhile, are facing the threat of disappearing completely with rising sea levels. We experience these effects in extremes as a small country composed of many islands surrounded by the sea. Yet we do not find our government prioritizing climate justice.

We are celebrating the 125th Independence Day, but we still find ourselves unfreed from our long-standing chains. Independence Day continues to be a mere holiday. We can only celebrate real independence when we are genuinely liberated from the systems and chains that confine and oppress us. – Rappler.com

Tony La Viña teaches constitutional law at the University of the Philippines and several Mindanao law schools. He is former dean of the Ateneo School of Government.

Bernardine de Belen graduated from the Ateneo de Manila University with a Creative Writing degree. She works at the Manila Observatory as a research assistant.