Ransacking PhilHealth, a higher calling?
The PhilHealth fiasco exposed the brazen way the den of thieves in Malacañang treats protected public funds as disposable cash.
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The PhilHealth fiasco exposed the brazen way the den of thieves in Malacañang treats protected public funds as disposable cash.
One of the most brazen fiscal abuses in recent history was the diversion of P60 billion from the reserve funds of the Philippine Health Insurance Corp. (PhilHealth) to the National Treasury.
What followed the classic 2024 heist by the Marcos administration was the systematic betrayal of millions of Filipinos who rely on universal healthcare.
The Supreme Court, in its 5 December 2025 ruling, declared the transfer unconstitutional.
PhilHealth funds are earmarked by law, protected under the Sin Tax Law enacted during the Aquino administration, and reinforced under the Universal Health Care (UHC) Act signed by then President Rodrigo Duterte.
The diversion violated both the letter and the spirit of these laws. Yet the government’s response to the ruling added insult to injury.
Rather than the Treasury simply returning the P60 billion to PhilHealth, the straightforward remedy, the restitution was done through the 2026 General Appropriations Act.
The Department of Budget and Management (DBM) released P60 billion to PhilHealth in April 2026 to comply with the court order.
By crediting the huge amount to the 2026 national budget, the government forced Filipino taxpayers to pay twice: once when the funds were illegally siphoned off, and again when fresh public money was used to plug the hole.
The original diversion, which healthcare champion Dr. Tony Leachon explained in a recent episode of Straight Talk, one of DAILY TRIBUNE’s online programs, was reported to have been channeled into the budget’s Unprogrammed Appropriations (UA) and presumably used for flood control projects. It was never reversed or audited.
The money disappeared, and the public absorbed the cost a second time.
Filipinos with ailments suffered the immediate consequences of the reallocation. Cancer patients lost access to expanded benefit packages. Dialysis, cardiac and primary health programs were underfunded. Hospitals, already cash-strapped, faced delayed reimbursements, leading to salary arrears, reduced services and in some cases, the threat of closure.
Families who could have been shielded by PhilHealth coverage were instead driven into debt to pay medical expenses out of pocket.
Leachon said the P60 billion pilfered from the UHC implementer meant that life-saving treatments were deferred, healthcare institutions were destabilized and communities were left without adequate medical support.
The question of presidential accountability is now unavoidable. Plunder charges were filed before the Ombudsman against former PhilHealth president Emmanuel Ledesma and Executive Secretary Ralph Recto, who was the Finance secretary at the time.
During a Senate hearing, Ledesma claimed he was compelled in a Cabinet meeting to authorize the transfer and that he was, in his own words, “only following orders.”
The testimony places the directive squarely within the highest levels of executive decision-making.
The chain of command leads upward. While direct presidential liability is difficult to establish at this stage, an investigation under a future administration could still implicate the higher-ups.
The PhilHealth fiasco exposed the brazen way the den of thieves in Malacañang treats protected public funds as disposable cash, and the perpetrators can later claim credit for “returning” what they should never have taken in the first place.
When a government steals from its people’s health funds, it breaks faith with every Filipino who ever made a PhilHealth contribution, trusting that it would be there when they needed it most.
