With the 2028 elections looming, one question dominates every Filipino’s mind: Who deserves to lead the country moving forward?
As opposed to what most politicians would like the public to believe, no one could count on a single individual to lead the Philippines towards prosperity because development asks for more beyond the traits of a nation's leaders.
During President Magsasay's brief tenure from 1953 to 1957, Filipinos, especially from the lower class, praised him for touching upon the needs of the masses. He pushed for agrarian reform despite opposition from an elite-dominated congress and he established the Presidential Action and Complaint Committee (PACC) which gave citizens the opportunity to file local complaints directly to the palace.
Filipinos adored Magsaysay because he formed a strong bond with the masses. Nevertheless, such influence leads people into treating politicians as saviors. When citizens are too dependent on their leaders, they refuse to sacrifice their loyalty, giving ambitious politicians power over their followers. Regardless of how well-intentioned a leader's policies are, it matters how citizens respond to them because even things that seem good can be harmful in reality. On top of that, people have more authority than they think.
For instance, in 1991, backed by then President Cory Aquino, the United States proposed a treaty extending the presence of military bases in the country, yet both Congress and civil society groups opposed the extension because they saw the threat it posed to the country’s sovereignty. Eventually, during a session held by the senate in September 1991, the majority of lawmakers rejected the treaty.
No matter the intentions, this chapter in history showed that both citizens and the state can act together for the interest of the country, and it went to prove that empowerment is more meaningful than honoring the good deeds of a single ruler. Nonetheless, internal politics are fragmented. The US was an external threat, which made it easier for Filipinos to follow a clear goal. On the other hand, political biases blur the lines, and the question of right or wrong becomes hazy.
When former President Joseph Estrada resigned from office amid massive corruption allegations, his supporters formed an uprising—they plotted to storm Malacañang and incited riots. Estrada's followers were fed the narrative that he was unjustly persecuted, forcing them to set aside accountability for a flawed sense of justice. Magsaysay set the standard for populism, but it's Estrada who weaponized it, and the same tradition that led people into protecting him from accountability remains enshrined in modern-day politics, taking the shape of dramatic narratives and online propaganda.
The Philippines isn't short of patriotism, but what we do lack is agency, and so-called leaders know their way around capturing it. Change begins with utilizing the public's authority and exposing how populists compromise that sense of liberty. But it demands us to let go of our political loyalties—something too unthinkable for most Filipinos today.
