Mass protests and ‘kleptospirosis’ in the Philippines
Widespread government corruption in the Philippines meant that recent mass protests in Indonesia and Nepal’s so-called Gen Z revolution resonated with Filipinos. Tens of thousands were expected at a nationwide protest on 21 September, coinciding with the anniversary of Ferdinand Marcos’ 1972 declaration of martial law, after corruption scandals related to flood control infrastructure projects took over the national spotlight.
However, many more turned out. The most significant rallies were held in Metro Manila, the national capital region consisting of sixteen cities. At Luneta Park in Manila, a symbolic site of the independence struggle from Spain, the morning crowd reached close to 80,000, according to organisers. Across town in Quezon City, an afternoon protest along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue, commonly referred to by its acronym EDSA—a major highway at the centre of protests that ultimately brought down the Marcos dictatorship in 1986—reportedly grew to 100,000 people, including those who started at Luneta Park.
A smaller, younger crowd confronted police barricades along Mendiola Street and Recto Avenue, a road leading to the presidential palace, where police arrested more than 200. Locals have referred to the confrontation as the “Mendiola riots”, harking back to the state violence of the 1987 Mendiola massacre, when protesters demanding land reform were gunned down by security forces under the new democratic government of Corazon Aquino.
Protests began days before 21 September outside government offices and construction firms. University walkouts nationwide involving thousands of students, staff and service workers also occurred. For weeks, public hearings in the Senate and Congress investigating flood control projects saturated the media. Environmental NGO Greenpeace, using estimates from the hearings, calculated that 1 trillion Philippine pesos (around 26 billion Australian dollars) may have been lost to corruption since 2023. More than half may have come in 2025 alone, through ghost projects, half-done construction and substandard work, resulting in dike breakdowns that leave residents stranded in floodwaters during major storms.
Politicians and the companies to which they awarded flood control contracts are bound together as shareholders, campaign donors and/or family businesses. One illustration is the rise of the billionaire Discaya couple, dubbed the “King and Queen of flood control”, who own six construction companies—and 40 luxury cars worth around 465 million pesos (A$12 million).
The crisis has been dubbed “kleptospirosis”. Combining “kleptomania” (the irresistible urge to steal) and “leptospirosis” (a bacterial disease), the term refers to a public health emergency caused by rampant corruption. The monsoon season and frequent exposure to flooding across the country this year led to thousands of cases and numerous deaths from the disease. The National Kidney and Transplant Institute’s gym even had to be converted into an extension ward to accommodate the extra patients. Leptospirosis thrives in conditions of poverty: inadequate housing, unsafe water and limited health care. It is a recurring danger in a city with failing sewerage systems that frequently expose residents to knee-deep floodwaters.
Both the president and vice president voiced support for the protests, but they are hypocrites. With relatives in Congress and local government, President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr (son of former dictator Ferdinand) and VP Sara Duterte (daughter of the last president, Rodrigo) hail from “fat dynasties”—families whose members hold several public offices simultaneously.
Both received millions in contractor donations for their 2022 election campaign, despite provisions banning such graft. Their donors were rewarded handsomely. One Marcos sponsor, Quirante Construction, gained contracts worth a billion pesos (A$26 million) just a year after the election. The sole corporate donor of Sara Duterte’s campaign is linked to Genesis88, the top flood control contractor in Davao del Sur, a municipality on the southern island of Mindanao, with projects worth 2.9 billion pesos (A$75 million).
It’s not just Marcos and Duterte. According to a study published by Manila University’s Ateneo School of Government, 80 percent of congressional representatives and more than 50 percent of local government officials hail from political dynasties.
The overarching demand of the 21 September protests was to jail the corrupt. However, those in the highest levels of government will not be held accountable without significant escalation. High-profile corruption scandals in the Philippines follow a predictable script: hearings are sensationalised, but the biggest thieves eventually get away thanks to their powerful allies.
For example, the broadcasts of President Joseph Estrada’s impeachment trials were one of the most watched programs on TV and led to mass protests along EDSA, triggering his ouster in January 2001. The disgraced ex-president was convicted of plunder and sentenced to life in 2007, but was pardoned a month later by his successor, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.
Accused politicians often book VIP escapes to private hospitals abroad due to sudden bouts of illness. Arroyo was charged with plunder, attempted to fly to Singapore and spent almost five years in hospital detention until being acquitted in 2016 by her Supreme Court appointees. Beforehand, then-President Duterte gave his blessing by offering a pardon. Congressman Zaldy Co, at the centre of today’s controversy, went “missing”—until the House confirmed he was in the United States for medical treatment.
Mounting public pressure continues, however. In early September, the Senate president was removed; later, the speaker of the House resigned. The president announced that the government would not include new flood control projects in the 2026 national budget, redirecting funding to education and health. After 21 September, nearly 36 billion pesos (A$940 million) were reallocated to social programs.
The Philippines is one of the fastest-growing economies in Southeast Asia. But the political dynasties have ensured that the growth primarily benefits private corporations at the expense of the vast majority. Regarding the share of wages in the national economy, the Philippines ranks as one of the lowest in the region, at 35 percent—even lower than the capitalist haven of Singapore (38.5 percent). Further entrenching inequality, big business recently defeated proposals to raise the minimum wage by 200 pesos a day (roughly A$5). It is no wonder that the three richest Filipinos increased their wealth by 563 percent over the last decade, reaching 1.8 trillion pesos (A$47 billion).
As revealed by the flood control scandals, profit-making and state politics are irrevocably linked, the political dynasties being organised precisely for that end. The setup made the Marcos and Duterte dynasties, alongside eighteen others, even fatter—securing “obese” status by obtaining five or more seats in the May midterm elections.
Profits and political power are the lifeblood of political dynasties. Mass disruption of cities, campuses and workplaces—like in the “Block everything” movement in France and Italy—is how profits and political legitimacy can be undermined. But the extensive influence and organisation of the political dynasties and their local machines remain key to their lasting electoral victories.
An enduring challenge to dynastic rule in the Philippines requires an equally powerful anti-capitalist political organisation, wielding its power in elections, on campuses, in workplaces and on the streets. The continuing outburst of mass action since September needs to be harnessed to the end of building the organisation and confidence of working people as they fight to ensure that public wealth goes to public good: securing concrete improvements in public services, infrastructure, wages and universal social protections. These are not only indispensable measures to protect against the environmental hazards to come; they would strike at class inequality, the foundation of the political dynasties.
