EACH September 21, the Philippines pauses to remember a dark chapter of its history: the day in 1972 when then-President Ferdinand Marcos signed Proclamation No. 1081, placing the nation under martial law. Decades later, the memory of that era serves not only as a warning but as a touchstone for democratic responsibilities – among them, vigilance, accountability, and the protection of civil liberties.
This year, September 21 assumes fresh urgency. Civil society organizations, church groups, student movements, and others have called for a major rally dubbed the Trillion Peso March Against Corruption, to be held at Rizal Park in Manila and at the People Power Monument along EDSA. The target is not any single political figure, organizers say, but corruption itself – especially the alleged anomalies and ghost or substandard flood control infrastructure projects that have cost billions in public funds.
In a development that adds complexity to the narrative of dissent, President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. has publicly acknowledged the anger many Filipinos feel over these issues, including corruption and misuse of infrastructure spending. He has said that if he were not president, he might be out in the streets alongside those calling for accountability. He has also encouraged protest – so long as they remain peaceful.
This is significant because September 21 is not only the anniversary of martial law; it is a symbol of the consequences when power is unchecked, and citizens are silenced. The endorsement, even a conditional one, by a sitting president of protest against corruption – especially policies and projects under his own watch – is unusual in Philippine political culture. It suggests both recognition of public discontent and an attempt to reconcile the regimes of past and present.
But symbolism isn’t enough. As much as we must remember the injustices of martial law – arbitrary arrests, suppression of media, curtailment of civil rights – we must also scrutinize the present to ensure that history does not repeat itself in new forms. The flood control project scandals, for example, reveal systematic failures – weak oversight, lack of transparency, and possible illicit enrichment that undermine government capacity to serve, especially in a country beset by flooding and climate threats.
For those organizing or attending the September 21 rally, education and preparation are crucial. To protest wisely means knowing your rights, understanding the issues, and ensuring that your actions are peaceful. It means demanding not just symbolic cries of “Never Again,” but concrete mechanisms: full disclosure of government spending, accountability for contractors and officials, strengthened auditing, and real reforms to prevent corruption at every level.
In the same way, leaders must respond with integrity, not rhetoric. If Marcos Jr. is sincere in supporting accountability, then the executive, legislative, and judicial branches must move swiftly: investigations must be thorough; implicated projects must be audited; those found culpable must be held to account; and the rule of law must prevail over politics.
September 21 is more than an anniversary. It is a mirror. When Filipinos march, shout, and demand change, they look not only at those in power but also at themselves – at the society they are building, at what they will allow, and what they will resist.
The celebration is a reawakening of citizen responsibility, of institutional integrity, and of democracy’s promise. Because the fight against corruption is not abstract: it is about trust, dignity, and fairness for every Filipino./PN
