

President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s declaration that the “big fishes” in the massive flood control corruption scandal would be behind bars by Christmas was not merely a statement of intent; it was a public covenant with a nation weary of the systemic graft.
He framed it as a moral reckoning, vowing there would be “no Merry Christmas” for the corrupt.
Yet, as the New Year dawns, that promise lies broken. Not a single prominent elected official among the powerful names implicated has been incarcerated or even formally charged in court.
The unmet deadline was a profound test of presidential credibility and is a stark illumination of the immense gap between political rhetoric and the grinding reality of accountability in the Philippines.
The scandal itself is a classic case of Philippine infrastructure corruption: billions siphoned off through “ghost” and grossly anomalous flood-control projects, exploiting a nation perennially victimized by calamities.
The President’s creation of the Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI) was initially seen as a decisive move. Its findings have been damning, recommending plunder and criminal charges against political heavyweights, including incumbent senators Jinggoy Estrada and Joel Villanueva. Graft and malversation cases were filed against former Ako Bicol Partylist Rep. Elizaldy Co for irregularities in a multimillion-peso substandard flood control project in Oriental Mindoro, but Co has fled the country and remains a fugitive.
In early December, former Senator Ramon Revilla Jr. was included in the ICI recommendations for criminal prosecution, including for plunder, while other former and incumbent senators were referred by the ICI to the Ombudsman for further investigative review and case buildup.
Meanwhile, the legal and political machinery appears to have moved only far enough to ensnare lower-level bureaucrats in the Department of Public Works and Highways and certain contractors, such as Curlee and Sarah Discaya.
As the public sentiment correctly notes, this feels like catching the draftsmen while the architects of the scheme remain untouched.
The President’s Christmas ultimatum has backfired, transforming a potential narrative of strong leadership into one of unmet promises.
By setting a specific, short-term timeline for an outcome he did not directly control, President Marcos fell into a classic political trap. The pace of justice in complex plunder cases is notoriously slow, wending its way through the Ombudsman’s office, which operates at its own deliberative pace, and then through the courts, where delays are endemic.
Furthermore, the targets are not just private individuals; they are entrenched political figures with vast resources, legal teams, and networks of influence that can stymie and prolong proceedings.
The promise of swift, dramatic arrests had always been at odds with this institutional inertia. What was the President even thinking?
This broken promise carries consequences. It directly undermines the President’s credibility and the potency of his anti-corruption platform. Likewise, it demoralizes the investigative bodies and honest officials working on the case, as their rigorous work is overshadowed by a political timeline they could not meet. And most dangerously, it emboldens the so-called “big fishes.” Their continued liberty, despite being named in Congress and by the ICI could make the public think that the system is manipulable, that political influence can still shield one from the swift hand of justice.
When tangible results do not match a leader’s bold words, public trust erodes.
As the New Year begins, it’s a fraught landscape. The legitimate public outrage over the scandal is now compounded by a sense of betrayal over the unmet deadline.
And the corrupt, alas, contrary to what the President promised, had themselves a “Merry Christmas.”
Expect continued massive protests in the new year, which will likely frame corruption not just as a crime of the past, but as a continuing failure of the present administration to honor its commitments.
Ultimately, the path to salvaging the situation lies not in new, rash promises but in a steady, transparent, and relentless pursuit of the truth.
The President must shift the narrative from a missed theatrical deadline to a demonstrable, unwavering commitment to see the process through to its just conclusion, regardless of how long it takes or whose political interests are affected.
He must support, without undue public pressure, the Ombudsman and the judiciary to build ironclad cases. The actual test is no longer a Christmas gift of arrests, but whether, by next Christmas, the trials are meaningfully underway.
The credibility of his entire anti-corruption agenda now depends on a long marathon of justice — a race he prematurely promised would be a short sprint.