LAST week, I covered Sen. Panfilo “Ping” Lacson’s exposé on how human actions turn floods into disasters. Today’s column focuses on the dramatis personae — legislators, Cabinet members, government officials and local authorities involved in corruption — who exploit the national budget.

We have seen this before. We have seen it too many times. The ghost of pork barrel politics haunts our national budget like an unwanted revenant — Lazarus resurrected. The Supreme Court’s 2013 ruling against the Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF) after the Napoles scandal was heralded as a cleansing act, the dawn of transparent governance — kuno. And yet here we are, a decade later, wading through a swamp of “insertions” and “lump sums.” Pork is alive. Pork is fat. And pork is now dressed up as “flood control.” But this time, the ongoing corruption is intertwined with another, equally potent narrative of political intrigue and rivalry between the Marcos and Duterte camps vying for dominance in the 2028 elections and beyond.

The Senate coup

The recent upheaval in the Senate, a miniature version of this larger battle, depicts a seesaw war of attrition between these two forces. The aftermath of the earlier 2025 senatorial elections saw the Duterte bloc in the ascendancy, confidently squashing the VP Sara impeachment, orchestrated by Senate President Escudero and the not so subtle attempt to humiliate her bete noire, potential presidential rival, Speaker Martin Romualdez, through the Blue Ribbon Committee hearings.

However, the meticulously planned script unraveled in a stunning twist. This elegant takeover, executed with breathtaking speed, saw 10 senators defect from the supermajority bloc to form a new 15-member coalition. This swift maneuver restored Tito Sotto to the Senate presidency and stripped the pro-Duterte bloc of its key leadership positions, including Senator Marcoleta’s chairmanship of the Blue Ribbon Committee. What was anticipated to be a moment of achievement for the Duterte camp instead became a significant setback, highlighting the risks associated with political overconfidence.

The humiliation deepened as the House of Representatives, having absorbed the initial blow, delivered a devastating counterpunch. While the Duterte bloc-led Blue Ribbon’s witnesses offered only empty allegations, aided by the incongruous interpellation of Sen. Jinggoy Estrada who himself has been incriminated by corruption in the past, the House brought forward the DPWH mafiosi — the “BGC Boys” who provided tangible evidence — photographs, text messages and direct testimony — against Senators Jinggoy himself and Joel Villanueva. This move turned the tables, placing these senators in a far more precarious legal and political position.

The Discayas and the media

At the center of this storm are the Discayas, suddenly elevated to the limelight by a compliant press. Only months ago, Sarah Discaya was profiled as a “smart city visionary,” a fresh face of entrepreneurship, philanthropy and public service. How expedient. How polished. How utterly false. Legislative hearings stripped away the veneer, revealing a British Filipino owner-wife whose nine construction firms anomalously bid against each other for nearly 500 DPWH projects and won 71. Substandard dikes in Bulacan and Iloilo, already crumbling, were traced back to their companies.

Equally damning is the role of the media in laundering this corruption through glossy profiles. This is the betrayal behind the betrayal. When the Babaos and Korinas trade their watchdog teeth for lapdog flattery, the public is not just misinformed, it is disarmed. And when the flood comes, it is not the Discayas who drown. It is the ordinary Filipino who trusted the headlines.

The enablers: The BGC Boys

The web of corruption extends deeper, with the “BGC Boys” (Bulacan Group of Contractors) as key facilitators for these contractors. They stand accused of pocketing billions and laundering funds via casino transactions. The scandal centers on a staggering P28.9 billion worth of flood control projects, some discovered to be “ghost projects.” The magnitude of the irregularities points to a systemic perversion of public funds, a cancer within the bureaucracy.

Whistleblowers now claim officials use “dummy” companies as fronts to corner contracts. And then there is Zaldy Co, erstwhile congressional appropriations committee chair, House Speaker Martin’s acolyte whose party-lists reportedly received P4 billion in projects, plus another P13 billion under his company, Sunwest, one of the 15 contractors mentioned by the President.

The circle of corruption is complete: the legislator writes the budget, the contractor receives the contract, the dummies build the flood walls, the engineers validate and launder the funds, the flood walls crumble, and the people suffer.

The Teflon-clad Villar

Yet, one figure remains untouched: Sen. Mark Villar. Netizens are grumbling why Villar sits in judgment as a senator, not as a defendant like his successor, Secretary Bonoan. Under President Duterte’s “Build, Build, Build,” and during Villar’s incumbency as Public Works secretary, a staggering 44,000 projects were awarded in just two years. Now, he escapes scrutiny, perhaps daunted by their powerful dynasty. Mark’s sister, Camille, now sits as senator, replacing mother Cynthia in the last election. Manny, the billionaire patriarch, used to be a Senate president and speaker of the lower house. Villar promoted the notorious Henry Alcantara as district engineer of Bulacan’s first engineering district. The Deegong once defended Villar by saying he was “too rich to be corrupt.” A truly pathetic defense.

In this grim landscape, a maverick figure emerges in the form of Sen. Ping Lacson, now the new Blue Ribbon Committee chairman. He warned that senators and congressmen may be complicit in these anomalous projects and has reiterated his call for complete transparency. Lacson, who in his past stint as a senator never partook of the “pork barrel,” is now being attacked by the Duterte camp and their social media trolls. He must be doing the right thing.

His hearings are expected to disclose irregularities, this time dating back to the Duterte administration, a stark contrast to Marcoleta’s that focused only on the Marcos era. During his questioning of the Discayas, the clueless senator-comedian Bato de la Rosa inadvertently revealed that the Discayas were among the largest contractors during President Duterte’s term.

Additionally, it was disclosed that a substantial budget of P51 billion was allocated to congressman Paolo Duterte of Davao during the first three years of his father’s presidency. Also, despite Sen. Bong Go’s denials in his privilege speech, his family’s firm CLTG Builders partnered with the Discayas on a P816-million project in Davao in 2017 — and perhaps more.

Lacson who does his homework promises to link more actors to this perversion. So far, he has linked the shameless Bonoan to the MBB Global Properties, contracting for the DPWH. MBB could stand for the daughter-owners of Candaba Mayor Maglangue, DPWH Undersecretary Bernardo and Bonoan. And another high-ranking DPWH undersecretary for planning, Catalina Cabral, may be on the chopping block.

More political corruption will soon be exposed. The key question is whether these revelations will lead to genuine accountability or will simply fade into another wasted reckoning — another moro-moro. The integrity of our institutions and the welfare of the Filipino people hang in the balance.

We need to be vigilant with our street marches and protests fueled by our anger and rage!

The Senate President crowed yesterday that the party he nominally coheads, PDP-Laban, has a “pleasant problem” — too many potential senatorial candidates. Koko Pimentel’s estimate is they have up to 20 possible choices for the 12-person slate for the 2019 senatorial race. But his list includes the five administration-affiliated senatorial incumbents up for reelection next year. This is a group that has made noises that, much as it prefers to remain in the administration camp, it is unhappy with the way PDP-Laban has been designating its local leaders and candidates, and therefore prefers to strike out on its own, perhaps in alliance with the other administration (regional) party, Hugpong ng Pagbabago, headed by the President’s daughter and current Davao City mayor, Sara Duterte.

Setting aside, then, the five-person “Force,” the administration-oriented but not PDP-friendly reelectionists (Nancy Binay, Sonny Angara, Cynthia Villar, Grace Poe, and JV Ejercito), what Koko’s crowing over is a mixed bag. Some of them have been floated by Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez (with whom Mayor Duterte clashed in recent months): six representatives (Gloria Macapagal Arroyo who is in her last term in the House of Representatives; Albee Benitez, Karlo Nograles, Rey Umali, Geraldine Roman, and Zajid Mangudadatu), three Cabinet members (Bong Go, Harry Roque, and Francis Tolentino), and two other officials (Mocha Uson and Ronald dela Rosa), which still only adds up to 11 possible candidates (who are the missing three?).

Of all of these, the “Force” reelectionists are only fair-weather allies of the present dispensation; their setting themselves apart is about much more than the mess PDP-Laban made in, say, San Juan where support for the Zamoras makes it extremely unattractive for JV Ejercito to consider being in the same slate. Their cohesion is about thinking ahead: Creating the nucleus for the main coalition to beat in the 2022 presidential election. The contingent of congressmen and congresswomen who could become candidates for the Senate, however, seems more a means to kick the Speaker’s rivals upstairs (at least in the case of Benitez and Arroyo) and pad the candidates’ list with token but sacrificial candidates, a similar situation to the executive officials being mentioned as possible candidates (of the executive officials, only Go seems viable, but making him run would deprive the President of the man who actually runs the executive department, and would be a clear signal that the administration is shifting to a post-term protection attitude instead of the more ambitious system-change mode it’s been on, so far).

Vice President Leni Robredo has been more circumspect, saying she’s not sure the Liberal Party can even muster a full slate. The party chair, Kiko Pangilinan, denied that a list circulating online (incumbent Bam Aquino, former senators Mar Roxas, Jun Magsaysay, TG Guingona, current and former representatives Jose Christopher Belmonte, Kaka Bag-ao, Edcel Lagman, Raul Daza, Gary Alejano and Erin Tañada, former governor Eddie Panlilio and Cebu City Mayor Tomas Osmeña) had any basis in fact.

What both lists have in common is they could be surveys-on-the-cheap, trial balloons to get the public pulse. Until the 17th Congress reconvenes briefly from May 14 to June 1 for the tail end of its second regular session (only to adjourn sine die until the third regular session begins on July 23), it has nothing much to do. Except, that is, for the barangay elections in May, after a last-ditch effort by the House to postpone them yet again to October failed.

Names can be floated but the real signal will come in July, when the President mounts the rostrum and calls for the big push for a new constitution—or not. Connected to this would be whether the Supreme Court disposes of its own chief, which would spare the Senate—and thus, free up the legislative calendar—to consider Charter change instead of an impeachment trial. In the meantime, what congressmen do seem abuzz over is an unrefusable invitation to the Palace tomorrow — to mark Arroyo’s birthday. An event possibly pregnant with meaning.

The Centrist View: Back to Basics

In an era marked by deepening social divides, persistent inequality, and political uncertainty, the Philippines stands at a critical juncture in its national life. Competing ideologies vie for dominance, often pulling the nation toward extremes. Amid this turbulence, a centrist perspective — rooted in the principles of human dignity and human rights — offers a balanced and principled framework for rebuilding trust, safeguarding citizens, and renewing democratic life.

Human Dignity as the Foundation of Rights and Responsibilities

At the core of the centrist vision is the belief that every Filipino possesses inherent human dignity — not conferred by the state, but intrinsic to being human. This dignity forms the moral and legal foundation of all human rights: civil liberties, political participation, and access to essential services such as education, healthcare, and livelihood.

But dignity is more than an entitlement; it is also a responsibility. It calls on individuals not only to claim their own rights but also to respect and uphold the rights of others — in speech, in conduct, and in civic life. The Centrist View affirms that rights and responsibilities are inseparable, and that a just society depends on mutual recognition of each person’s worth.

Human Rights in a Divided Political Landscape

In recent years, human rights in the Philippines have become a flashpoint — celebrated by some as the bedrock of democracy, dismissed by others as a hindrance to order and discipline. The centrist approach resists this false binary.

Instead, it upholds human rights as non-negotiable, especially for the most vulnerable: victims of extrajudicial killings, displaced indigenous communities, and ordinary citizens left behind by corruption and impunity. At the same time, it recognizes the need to contextualize rights within the broader social fabric — considering public safety, poverty, and institutional capacity.

The absolute moral positions of the Church — opposition to abortion, divorce, and same-sex marriage — moral truths which many Filipinos adopt unquestioningly, conflict with human rights discourses or secular principles such as reproductive health, women’s rights, and LGBTQ inclusion. The war on drugs under the Duterte administration was often justified using absolute moral language — portraying drug use as an evil that must be eradicated at all cost. This moral framing enabled EJK and human rights abuses, with limited public resistance due to the perceived moral righteousness of the campaign.

The anti-corruption rhetoric (all corruption is evil) uses moral absolutism (that certain actions are inherently right or wrong regardless of context, consequences, or cultural norms) but the application of justice in the Philippines is frequently selective, exposing the hypocrisy and dangers of absolutism when wielded by those in power. Human rights violations during Martial Law (torture, illegal detentions, censorship) can be judged as morally wrong in absolute terms, regardless of the justifications of national security or economic progress. However, moral relativism is often used to justify or downplay these events, especially by those who benefit from historical revisionism or political dynasties.

The late dictator son’s administration has emphasized technocratic leadership — appointing economic managers, military officials, and political elites into key positions — often sidelining consultative, grassroots-driven policy-making. His seeming focus on stability and economic continuity is reflected in his cabinet choices; still this pragmatic approach is viewed as centralizing authority and downplays participative governance, especially from civil society organizations, marginalized sectors, and opposition voices.

The DepEd and CHED directives to revise or soften the language around martial law abuses reflect a systemic push toward historical revisionism, legitimizing the current administration while erasing past atrocities. In lieu of outright censorship, the present administration uses strategic communication and digital manipulation through troll farms, algorithmic manipulation, and disinformation campaigns, to promote a favorable image. Contrary opinions and criticisms are viewed as “fake news” and attempts to discredit the administration are seen as libelous that merit congressional inquiry, purportedly, in aid of legislation.

The administration exhibits a form of authoritarian pragmatism more subtle than the previous dictatorship but no less concerning in its long-term implications. The challenge for Filipinos today is to critically assess this pragmatism: who benefits, who is silenced, and at what cost is “progress” achieved.

The Centrist View rejects both moral absolutism and authoritarian pragmatism. It seeks to foster a culture in which human rights are not only enshrined in law but also respected in practice, and where governance is accountable, transparent, and humane.

Rebuilding Trust in Institutions and the Rule of Law

The erosion of public trust in the justice system and the prevalence of political patronage have undermined faith in democratic institutions. When laws are applied unequally — when the wealthy and powerful escape accountability while the poor face violence and neglect — human dignity suffers.

A centrist response calls for the revitalization of institutions as a moral imperative:

• A justice system that is impartial, efficient, and accessible to all;
• Security forces that serve the Constitution and the people, not personal or political interests;
• Governance that is participatory, transparent, and responsive — especially to marginalized communities.

Restoring confidence in institutions, in the Centrist View, is not only about efficiency; it is about affirming the dignity of every citizen and the credibility of democracy itself.

Social Justice Without Extremism

Despite economic growth, the Philippines continues to grapple with stark inequality, underdevelopment in rural areas, and persistent conflict in regions such as Mindanao. Politics is downplaying the gains of the Bangsamoro Autonomous region, as changes in policies are manifest in each subsequent administration. These are not just policy failures — they are affronts to human dignity.

The centrist approach to social justice promotes meaningful, targeted reforms:

• Long-term investments in quality education and healthcare as fundamental human rights;
• Genuine land reform and rural development to empower farmers and indigenous peoples;
• Inclusive and decentralized governance, particularly in historically marginalized regions.

Unlike radical ideologies that call for revolution or sweeping overhauls, the Centrist View advocates for gradual, evidence-based reforms that preserve national stability while addressing deep-rooted injustices.

Pluralism and Mutual Respect in a Diverse Nation

The Philippines is a nation of many cultures, faiths, and identities. Respecting human dignity means embracing this diversity, not suppressing it.

The centrist vision affirms that unity can only emerge from mutual respect — not forced conformity.

All Filipinos — regardless of ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, or social status — have the right to live free from discrimination and violence. Dialogue, rather than dogma, is the foundation of lasting peace and nation-building.

In this spirit, the Centrist View aligns with the universal values of human rights: that every person has the right to live, believe, speak, and participate fully in society — while also contributing to the common good.

Conclusion: A Call for Principled Moderation

The Centrist View in contemporary Philippine society is not a position of passivity or indifference. It is a call for principled moderation — an approach that seeks:

• To place human dignity at the center of policy and public life;
• To uphold human rights not as partisan slogans but as shared moral imperatives;
• To advance nation-building through inclusion, institutional reform, and civic responsibility.

In an age defined by polarization and populism, the Philippines needs a renewed commitment to moral clarity, balanced leadership, and shared humanity. In this vision, human dignity is not merely an abstract ideal — it is a living promise that belongs to every Filipino.