PhilHealth is not about its organization, infrastructure, institutional expertise, or even its funds. It embodies a dream—a material lifeline for survival. This dream may not be shared by all Filipinos, but it represents the hopes of many in the middle class, the ordinary, and the poor. PhilHealth represents a critical dream for the survival of many Filipinos, yet it is under threat by those in power who have never needed it.
Unfortunately, in the Philippines, there exists a privileged minority who can afford healthcare without needing PhilHealth. For them, what is PhilHealth when they can fly to Singapore, Europe, or the United States to receive top-tier medical treatment? This disparity is unfortunate because, unless they show genuine concern for the Filipinos who cannot access such privileges, they only exacerbate the struggles of the majority.
It is even more troubling that the key decision-makers in the House of Representatives, the Senate, and Malacañang Palace are part of this privileged minority. They do not depend on PhilHealth funds or resources to access the best medical care. This creates an anomaly: decisions about PhilHealth’s fate are made by those who have no stake in it. This is not representative democracy—it is autocracy or oligarchy.
For decades, since gaining independence from direct foreign rule in 1946, the perennial challenge of Philippine governance has been how to serve the interests of the majority. These majority interests are synonymous with national interests. In contrast, the interests of the wealthy minority fall into the category of special or vested interests.
Special or vested interests, in themselves, are not inherently wrong; they are normal for those who hold them. However, when these interests override or subvert national interests, they become criminal or even treasonous. Today, we face a dangerous reality: those with special or vested interests now hold the power to decide over matters of national importance, such as PhilHealth.
In our pursuit of national interests, our fledgling democracy has always had to be vigilant, exerting both awareness and political will to protect these interests from being undermined by the privileged few. National interests should always take precedence, as they represent the vast majority. Yet, the concentration of power and authority in the hands of a minority with special interests disrupts the ideal balance needed for a just and functional society.
The struggle for truly representative governance has always been measured by the levels of corruption and poverty in the country. Over the past 70 years, successive administrations have attempted—whether through lip service or sincere effort—to address these twin challenges. Each Filipino must critically assess how well each administration has performed in reducing corruption and poverty and vote for leaders accordingly.
Looking back at our nation’s journey since independence, the overall performance has been disappointing. Why? Fundamentally, the measure of independence lies in how free and empowered each Filipino feels today. Judging by the growing reliance on ayuda (government aid) and the stagnation of human development, it is clear that our progress has been dismal. The cumulative performance of our leaders in the so-called independence game has been nothing short of shameful.
I wonder if our political and business leaders are aware that we are deep in the Christmas season, with Christmas Day just around the corner. These weeks are supposed to be the happiest and most hopeful time of the year. If there is already noticeable dissent and resentment in the air, it suggests that the underlying situation is far worse than it appears. By the second half of January, when the positivity of Christmas fades, we may face an even more troubling reality.
The Filipino people are no longer overly ambitious. They still dream, but many know their dreams are unlikely to come true—or will only come true if they leave the Philippines. However, there are minimum aspirations that Filipinos cling to, no matter how difficult life becomes: food and health security. To frustrate these basic needs is to play with fire.
Food and health are not just aspirations; they are survival factors—primal and urgent. There is one more hope that keeps many Filipinos going: the belief that education can free their children from the hardships they have endured. This hope, though fragile, is anchored in the aspiration that the next generation might have a better life.
The national budget must prioritize these three essential concerns: food, health, and education. When Filipinos see their leaders focusing on these fundamental needs, they are often more patient and forgiving. But to exploit or pollute these priorities is to risk triggering indignation and unrest, like a spark igniting a dormant social and political volcano. I pray that the country’s leaders remain sensitive to these issues and avoid serious missteps in these areas.
There have been moments in our history when quiet disappointment and resentment boiled over, reaching a point of no return. It seems we have not learned those lessons well, as anxiety is once again building. This unease is being stoked by the political fracas between the Marcos and Duterte factions. The powder keg is dry, so to speak. The cost of living has become unbearable for many, and trust in honest governance is eroding rapidly.
It is clear to me that we, the people, are our only saviors. Let this Christmas bring families closer together and realize that the times ahead are difficult. We must confront the storm together, help one another, increase what we can do for the good of our families and community to strengthen our food and health security. Let Christmas awaken in us not only the joy of the season, but especially kindness and the sense of community.