The First Republic and the Modern Rogue
If General Emilio Aguinaldo or the intellectuals of the Malolos Congress were to walk through our modern halls of power today, would they recognize the Republic they bled for?
Daily TribuneIf General Emilio Aguinaldo or the intellectuals of the Malolos Congress were to walk through our modern halls of power today, would they recognize the Republic they bled for?
On 23 January, the nation will turn its eyes toward Malolos, Bulacan, to commemorate the 127th Anniversary of the First Philippine Republic. It is a date that should stir profound, bone-deep pride in every Filipino. In 1899, our ancestors had the sheer audacity to declare to a colonizing world that we could govern ourselves — that we possessed the intellect, the structure and the moral fiber to be a sovereign state.
But as we stand at the dawn of 2026, one cannot help but indulge in a sobering thought experiment: if General Emilio Aguinaldo or the intellectuals of the Malolos Congress were to walk through our modern halls of power today, would they recognize the Republic they bled for?
Or would they be appalled by the “tayo-tayo” system that has mutated into the sophisticated contractualization we see in today’s headlines?
The “modern rogue” does not carry a Mauser or hide in the mountains; he sits in an air-conditioned office, wielding a digital pen, and has a network of well-placed “friends.” The recent scandals surrounding DPWH flood control projects — where billions supposedly vanished into “ghost” dikes and substandard dredging while half of Metro Manila waded through muck last monsoon season — are proof that the monsters of old have simply traded their uniforms for barongs.
In this column, I have often spoken of the recurring “monster” in our national narrative: the official who treats the national treasury as a personal “pork giniling.” They grind down the public funds until the substance is unrecognizable, mixing it into various line items and “allocables” until the scent of corruption is masked by bureaucratic jargon. As we navigate 2026, our theme of Radical Accountability demands that we look past the glossy press releases and the ribbon-cutting ceremonies.
The 2026 national budget is currently under the microscope and the image is disturbing. We are seeing billions earmarked for “contingency funds” and vague “consultancy fees” at a time when 24 million of our countrymen remain functionally illiterate. How do we justify “digital transformation” budgets that rival the GDP of small provinces while our public schools lack the basic roof tiles to keep the rain off students’ desks?
The “Conscience of the Code” I discussed last week isn’t just about software or AI; it is about the moral code of our leadership. We are witnessing a crisis of character where “legal” has become a convenient substitute for “ethical.”
These rogues hide behind legal technicalities, non-disclosure agreements and political alliances, thinking they are untouchable.
But they forget the “Unbreakable Thread” of Filipino courage. The same fire that fueled the revolutionaries in Bulacan must now fuel the modern citizen. We must be the “Check and Balance” that no algorithm can replace. Radical accountability means we stop being “fans” of politicians and start being their employers.
This January, as we honor the birth of our Republic, let us resolve to purge the modern rogues from our system. Let us demand a government that is as brave and as principled as the one envisioned in 1899. The First Republic was built on the dream of a dignified Filipino. In 2026, it is our job to ensure that dream isn’t sold off to the highest bidder in a rigged bidding process.
