I have been a keen observer of our social and political dynamics for many years, even before I began writing a weekly column 23 years ago. My curiosity about these issues ignited 40 years ago, as I felt an intrinsic call for radical change, even before I fully comprehended its implications. This journey has been both exciting and, at times, painful; yet it has always been informative and educational.
In my younger days, the fate of most Filipinos was largely foreign to me. While I was not indifferent, my focus remained confined to my immediate surroundings, which did not reflect the broader struggles of my people. Perhaps it was my early work with an agricultural company that began to bridge that gap. In this role, I encountered not just farming practices but, more significantly, the lives of small farmers. Through our interactions as we sold agricultural fertilizers and chemicals, I was quietly introduced to their impoverished realities.
However, working from a corporate office in Makati limited my exposure and immersion in the lives of Filipinos who felt like strangers to me. Firstly, I was not from Luzon. Secondly, despite coming from a farming family, my experience was primarily rooted in sugarcane cultivation, rather than the rice and corn crops that populated many rural landscapes. Haciendas and rice farms represented vastly different worlds, much like the distance I felt from the rice farmers I began to meet as part of my role.
Now, in my retirement years, I find myself with more time to recollect and reflect. From the glittering cityscape of Makati, I immersed myself under the stars of a majestic mountain. This was not merely an immersion program; it was a profound shift in lifestyle. Over nearly two decades, I split my time between the metropolis and an upland barangay in the province. I felt compelled to do this, as I could not remain a stranger to my own people indefinitely.
The last four decades have been a roller coaster for the Philippines, for Filipinos, and for myself. It began with the decline of a dictatorship and now appears to be witnessing the end of another. There are countless stories to tell—great and small, joyful and sorrowful. Yet, beneath the surface of frequent and dramatic changes, realities exist that defy all attempts to change.
Poverty has become a static reality. While the numbers may fluctuate due to the economic formulas used to measure it, the essence of poverty and the lifestyles that accompany it remain constant. The only notable shift is the growing prominence of urban poverty, even though most of the impoverished still reside in rural and coastal areas. Poverty signifies fear; it signifies pain; it signifies relentless work without rewards.
Worse than poverty, however, is what causes it. The true underlying issue is the disease that breeds and perpetuates it: the cancer of corruption—the primary manifestation of greed that overcomes the inherent goodness of humanity.
Cancer is defined as a disease in which some of the body’s abnormal cells grow uncontrollably and spread to other parts of the body. This process, known as metastasis, is analogous to the cancer of corruption today—abnormal cells invading adjacent areas within our body politic. Corruption is metastasizing rapidly.
There are several approaches to tackling cancer. A few treatments show enough promise to improve survival odds, though most have yet to demonstrate effectiveness. Some individuals afflicted with the mildest forms of cancer in its early stages manage to reverse it through diet, nutrition, and less stressful lifestyles. However, the majority require more radical interventions, such as chemotherapy and radiation.
The cancer of corruption festering within Philippine society is no longer confined to government and governance; it has also infiltrated the private sector. Circumstances necessitate the participation of private firms, as government funds must eventually flow to them as suppliers of goods and services. Subsequently, like a laundry machine, these private sector players funnel kickbacks back to government officials.
When corruption was mild enough to be managed by the affected agencies or institutions—with some assistance from the courts—it did not spread quickly. That is no longer the case. Corruption has metastasized, affecting nearly all government instrumentalities, and the same is true for the private sector. I see little protest from billionaires; instead, they seem focused solely on maximizing profits.
The most distressing aspect is the corruption of the tens of millions who accept bribes from politicians. Vote-buying is a two-way street: politicians bribe, and voters accept. As the cancer of corruption spreads, it permeates every nook and cranny of government, including the courts. Unfortunately, it undermines the integrity of Filipino citizens, exploiting their poverty and personal greed to buy their votes.
I have observed the idealism of younger generations through my interactions with youth and young adults. However, those I’ve encountered represent only a small fraction of their generation’s population. They urgently need support to expand their numbers and influence.
The situation in Philippine society has reached a critical point; the cancer of corruption has metastasized. Unless addressed, it will only worsen, as the momentum lies with the corrupt and the corrupted. Eventually, the system may face a significant breakdown—a consequence of its very design, mirroring the unchecked nature of cancer.
Yet, the body has inherent defenses. A profound struggle is underway within our spirit, juxtaposing law and morality against greed and deceit. Amidst this turmoil, we find ourselves in a state of catharsis, where the forces of evil seek total domination, while the good within us strives to resist, despite overwhelming odds.
As this catharsis unfolds, many political and business players will undoubtedly feel the mounting pressure. We, too, will be caught in it, and we should prepare our hearts and minds. Again, as usual, small and ordinary Filipinos will be the first to suffer. They have no savings, they have no assets, they have no cushion when hard times get harder. May they receive kindness from us.