Lack of transparency clouds artists’ ritual

For half a century, picking the candidates for the Order of National Artist has been shrouded in secrecy like a sacred relic: deliberations are locked, votes sealed, names concealed until the President utters them in Malacañang.

The reason given is that secrecy has the noble purpose of keeping politics from defiling the process — but it has achieved the opposite, which is a course that is full of skepticism.

Secrecy has never stopped politicization but has only hidden it. From Ferdinand Marcos Sr. padding the list with loyalists to Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s midnight insertions, to the late Benigno Aquino III’s quiet burial of now national artist Nora Aunor’s name despite her topping the final deliberation shows the attempts to influence the annual ritual.

Every time a President exercises their “prerogative” to add, delete, or overrule, the sealed envelopes and signed non-disclosure agreements (NDAs) become not shields of ethical responsibility but accomplices to manipulation.

Yet the defenders of the current system still chant the same hymn.

In the landmark case Virgilio S. Almario et al. vs The Executive Secretary et al., the Supreme Court unanimously voided the conferment of the Order of National Artist on four individuals: Cecile Guidote-Alvarez (Theater), Carlo J. Caparas (Visual Arts and Film), Francisco “Bobby” Mañosa (Architecture), and Jose “Pitoy” Moreno (Fashion Design), who were proclaimed by then President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo in 2009.

The SC ruled the appointments were invalid, stemming from a “grave abuse of discretion” that undermined the statutory framework of Republic Act 7154.

While affirming the President’s ultimate prerogative, the decision emphasized that this power is not absolute and must respect the rigorous, expert-driven processes established by law.

The absence of a shortlist or scores does not offer any explanation for certain names never reaching the final round.

Privacy that breeds endless suspicion is not dignified; it is cowardly as reflected in the fact that since 1972, only one in five National Artists has been a woman. In architecture, literature, and the visual arts, the count remains a humiliating zero.

The voting bodies themselves, NCCA commissioners, CCP trustees, living National Artists, are overwhelmingly male.

Opacity breeds suspicions

The lack of transparency becomes more oppressive considering the overlapping positions of NCCA’s head, Victorino Mapa Manalo.

Manalo simultaneously serves as executive director of the National Archives of the Philippines, giving him sway over historical records, heritage preservation, and the narrative of Filipino identity used in the criteria to come up with the National Artists.

Thus, the executive who decides what historical treasures will see the light of day also chairs the board that scores nominations for lifetime achievement. His past stint as museum director at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP), NCCA’s shadowy twin in the National Artists selection process, only thickens the plot, embedding him in the networks of curators, board members, and influencers who make their recommendations behind closed doors.

In a system already notorious for opacity, Manalo’s multi-hat roles tilt the scales toward allies in the yearly process while sidelining independent voices.

With Manalo pulling th strings across heritage preservation and cultural policy, the 2025 National Artists controversy has flourished.

A stakeholder said reforms are in order such as requiring every juror, including living National Artists, to file a public conflict-of-interest declaration and recusal log.

A 30-day public comment period on the final shortlist before it reaches the President should also be undertaken.

The Filipino people have waited long enough to see how their highest cultural honor is decided.

The issue involves culture and art — and the nation that honors it always deserves the truth.