Beyond endless anti-graft bodies

Corruption in the Philippines has endured across administrations, surviving reforms, political resets, and countless promises of change. From Corazon “Cory” Aquino to Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr., presidents have turned to one familiar tool: the creation of special commissions.

Each commission is launched with fanfare and resolve. Yet decades later, one question remains unanswered: Do these commissions truly work, especially when institutions like the Office of the Ombudsman and the Department of Justice already exist?

Cory Aquino’s Presidential Commission on Good Government (PCGG) set the tone in 1986. 

Created to recover ill-gotten wealth from the Marcos era, it painted a nation determined to rebuild. But while it raised expectations at first, it eventually floundered, snagged by bureaucratic delays, partisan pressures, and internal controversies. 

Fidel Ramos pushed forward with the Presidential Commission Against Graft and Corruption. 

But even he acknowledged the limits of its mandate. Corruption in the Philippines is not episodic; it is systemic. Networks of patronage and influence cultivated over generations have been thick. 

Under Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, the Presidential Anti-Graft Commission (PAGC) suffered, fairly or not, from the perception that it targeted political enemies more than wrongdoing. The mere suspicion of selective enforcement erodes public confidence and turns anti-corruption bodies into political tools that cannot be trusted.

Benigno Aquino III’s Truth Commission, designed to investigate past abuses, was struck down by the Supreme Court. The move revealed a deeper problem: even well-meaning reforms can falter when the legal and political architecture they operate in remains unchanged.

Rodrigo Duterte’s Presidential Anti-Corruption Commission (PACC) promised toughness but faced credibility problems. Critics questioned whether it added real capability or merely duplicated the work of the DoJ and the Ombudsman 

Today, the Marcos Jr. administration’s Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI) signals another attempt, this time to curb corruption in infrastructure projects. But its creation raises a familiar concern: How many commissions must be formed before we confront the larger structural issue — fragmentation instead of cohesion?

Across administrations, one pattern is clear: commissions often serve as political statements more than long-term solutions. They demonstrate action, but do not transform. Their overlapping mandates blur accountability, even as the root problems of patronage politics, opaque procurement processes, weak enforcement, and cultural tolerance for corruption remain unaddressed.

To break the cycle, our country needs more than new commissions. We need a unified, empowered, and independent anti-corruption ecosystem that strengthens, rather than sidelines, existing institutions like the DoJ and the Ombudsman.  We need transparency mechanisms that outlast political terms. 

The fight against corruption is long and arduous. It is unfinished. But it will not be won by creating a new anti-graft body every six years. 

Our battle against corruption demands not another commission, but a socio-legal and political culture where accountability is the central norm. Only then can we finally break the cycle and build a government worthy of public trust.