Taken together, the events at the Senate on Thursday highlighted the desperation of those in power to prevent the unfiltered truth from being revealed.
The 18 whistleblowers on corruption, under oath at the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee hearing, made the ultimate revelation that a mafia of thieves is leading the country.
They detailed how suitcases of cash, many so heavy that it took two to three men to lift, were distributed to figures in power, including President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., perpetuating the cycle of corruption.
Suitcases were transported, including by aircraft, several times a week solely because the crates of cash, which had to be delivered personally to avoid a paper trail, were too voluminous.
Notable among the statements of the former Marines who were relegated to being Floodgate delivery boys was that the first luggage was delivered in September 2022, which, based on their testimony, meant that raiding the National Treasury was the plan from the beginning of the Marcos presidency.
The hearing nearly did not happen. Conflicting Senate orders, a contested leadership reorganization, and the abrupt installation of a new Blue Ribbon chairperson put the witnesses’ appearance in doubt.
Before a single Marine had spoken on the record, the government had issued subpoenas not to the alleged architects of the multibillion-peso flood control racket, but to the 18 witnesses, their lawyer Levito Baligod, and even the notary who signed their affidavits.
Malacañang, for its part, dismissed their claims as a “lousy script.”
In a functioning system of accountability, the standard response to explosive allegations is to summon the witnesses, test the claims, and let the evidence speak for itself.
What the public saw instead was a cascade of maneuvers that, in essence, was meant to poison the well. Taken together, the maneuvers were part of a containment strategy, a pre-emptive strike to cast doubt on the squealers.
The aim was to undermine the witnesses’ credibility with the claim that each Marine was paid P5 million.
Their allegations are hard to dismiss. Former Department of Works and Highways engineers had testified that flood control and infrastructure projects were deliberately made substandard or overpriced, with at least 20 percent in kickbacks flowing back to officials and legislators.
The so-called Brave 18’s motives may be questioned, but the proper place for that scrutiny is the courtroom. The standard is to test the evidence, not to destroy the witness first.
If their affidavits were fabricated, a sworn cross-examination would expose it. If the Marines were paid to lie, evidence of this would surface.
If the whole affair was being orchestrated, prove it in the open — with sworn testimonies, documentary evidence, and public records.
The group was not even invited by the Independent Commission for Infrastructure before it disastrously folded after being exposed as another cover-up tool.
Corruption destroys nations, but when power moves to silence witnesses before they can speak, what is destroyed is the public’s trust that the truth can still fight back.
The group of informers’ willingness to appear — risking retaliation, perjury charges, and reputational ruin — carries weight.
More significantly, the effort of those in power to suppress the forum is symptomatic of their need to block scrutiny at the door when the stakes are existential.
