A President who vowed that “not even a whiff of corruption” would be tolerated in his

term will not like what an international corruption watchdog has determined halfway
through his tenure—that he’s failing at the promise big-time. According to the 2019
Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI) of Transparency International (TI), corruption in
the Philippines is becoming worse, not easing up. In fact, the country now ranks among
the most corrupt countries in the world. Out of 180 countries surveyed, the Philippines
came in at number 113, several notches below its ranking in previous years: 14 slots
down from 2018, 18 down from 2015, and its lowest ranking since 2012. Dirtier and
dirtier the country’s affairs seem to be getting—or at least that’s the consensus among
those polled by the TI, which reviews countries and territories through experts’ and
businessmen’s perception of government corruption.
Malacañang, quick to take umbrage at any hint of criticism from international bodies,
seemed among the least surprised at the results this time. Instead of bothering to work
up an indignant denial, presidential spokesperson Salvador Panelo offered what
sounded like a begrudging acknowledgment that the problem has indeed been hard to
lick.

The President’s hands are “tied by the due process clause of the Constitution,” this
“tedious process that demands evidence to get dishonest officials out of power,” Panelo
claimed. “We’ve been fighting corruption and the President has been firing top
government officials… (who) have been charged in the Ombudsman and in the courts.”

Yes, he has—but mostly those conveniently not close to him, who don’t have his ear,
or are far down the governmental totem pole. The list of recycled favored officials,
however, tell a different story. There’s former Customs chief Nicanor Faeldon, who
“resigned” after a P6.4-billion shipment of crystal meth managed to slip into the country
in 2017, but was then appointed to the Bureau of Corrections (where he also made a
royal mess). Faeldon’s successor, Isidro Lapeña, was relieved as customs chief after
allegations that some P11-billion worth of shabu were smuggled inside magnetic lifters
during his watch—but was just as quickly ensconced at Tesda, the government agency
for technical and vocational training. A presidential free pass for the two, while it was
the lowly warehouse caretaker in the P6.4-billion drug smuggling case that was thrown
in jail.
That selective anticorruption campaign blights as well the fate of government
transactions that have all the earmarks of conflict of interest, such as the multimillion
security services deals the company owned by Solicitor General Jose Calida’s wife
Milagros had clinched with at least three government agencies. Rather than enforcing
the Code of Ethics prohibiting conflict of interest among public officials, however, the
President even defended Calida: “Why should I fire him? He’s good. And doesn’t he
have a right to go into business?”