Building our promised land

I blinked, and it’s New Year! Somehow, 2025 has arrived without a bang, much like 2024 quietly ended. Yet, a new year signifies another beginning, regardless of how the previous one concluded or how unchanged things may appear. This time, however, we cannot let the mere turn of the calendar dictate how we approach 2025. We must will the change—good values, good people, and good progress. It will not come unbidden; it must be earned and demanded.

The 2025 budget, sadly, reflects rapacious priorities rather than a genuine commitment to education and health. I had thought education was universally acknowledged as the primary path out of poverty and that health was both an urgent necessity and a political imperative. Apparently, I overestimated the power of logic and compassion to temper political greed and ambition. Even in my seventies, despite witnessing plunderers and murderers at the pinnacle of power, I still fail to learn that hope alone does not suffice.

This is why I must summon greater willpower to actively shape the outcomes I seek, rather than passively wait for life to gift them to me. Striking the delicate balance between individual initiative and collective responsibility remains a challenge. Life is, after all, a ceaseless interplay of the personal and the universal—a dance between self-interest and the common good.

Yet, history reminds us that prioritizing personal gain over collective welfare breeds division, misunderstanding, and resentment. When we elevate what separates us above what unites us, we create a world of many losers and few winners. This, unfortunately, has been humanity’s default setting: the triumph of force over the supremacy of principle.

The ideals of democracy, as introduced by our American teachers over a century ago, offered a vision of equality, liberty, and the common good. The lessons were so compelling that we began to dream of what was not yet within our grasp. However, democracy demands something we often neglect: the hard work and discipline required to produce the fruits of collective labor. The more each citizen contributes to society’s well-being, the more there is for democracy to distribute.

Yet, Philippine democracy—designed to be inclusive and welcoming—has fallen victim to its own openness. The framers of our Constitution assumed that democracy thrives when it allows almost anyone to seek public office. This noble ideal has, instead, opened the door to incompetence and opportunism. Over the decades, this flawed assumption has inflicted incalculable harm on a fledgling democracy struggling to mature.

The quality of leadership in the Philippines has steadily declined throughout our 80-year experiment with self-governance. What began with promise under American tutelage deteriorated swiftly after independence in 1946. From a conjugal dictatorship to leaders who plundered the nation’s wealth, our history is littered with missed lessons and unlearned warnings. Instead of reform, greed and ambition found new ways to corrupt the system, emboldened by the lack of accountability and a citizenry too often resigned to its fate.

And so here we are, at the dawn of 2025, burdened by the persistent weight of history. It is enough to break the spirit but surrender only deepens our misery. Despite the odds, those who believe in a democracy rooted in the common good, national interest, and love of country have no choice but to forge hope from despair.

How this can be achieved remains a contentious question. What is certain, however, is that it will require pain, sacrifice, and relentless resolve. Without lofty aspirations, unshakable courage, and firmly grounded principles, we will falter. Blood, sweat, and tears—these are the unavoidable costs of the mission ahead.

Regrettably, many will choose not to join this struggle. For some, it will seem easier to surrender the noble for the mundane, to trade principle for survival, or to participate in the very exploitation they despise. I cannot wholly blame them, even knowing they enable the corrupt and criminal. Perhaps divine justice will teach them the lessons that human logic cannot. In the end, we must trust in the Creator and the natural order when reason fails to quell our doubts and fears.

What is required of Filipino patriots today is heroism. Yet heroism comes in many forms, and not all are grand or dramatic. We need not be martyred like Jose Rizal, betrayed like Andres Bonifacio, or lead uprisings like Gabriela Silang. Beneath their celebrated acts of bravery were quiet virtues that defined their lives—virtues they refused to compromise. They loved freedom, cherished their country, and upheld their noble principles even at the cost of their lives.

At the very least, it is this quiet heroism that must fuel our hearts. It can manifest in small yet profound ways: being honest in our dealings, and more importantly, remaining honest when dishonesty seems the easier path. It can mean working diligently—on the farm, in the factory, or at the office—doing our fair share without resorting to lies or shortcuts. And during the political season, it can mean recognizing, supporting, and uplifting fellow Filipinos who aspire to serve with integrity, even when they offer no favors, promises, or material gifts.

If we dream of a proud and prosperous Philippines, then pride and prosperity must start with us. If we long for a noble and productive nation, our contributions must embody nobility and productivity. And if we envision a brave and resilient country, then our courage must light the way.

A new year brings the chance for new beginnings, and we have the opportunity to fill it with our purest resolutions. We may falter, stumble, or lose our way at times, but what matters is that we rise again—to be honest again, to work hard again, and to persevere. 2025 may not promise happiness, but it can be a year of purpose—a year that plants the seeds of a brighter, more hopeful future.