Idolatry, Inc.

We are a nation of worshippers, and it is not just about religion. We learned it from our lolas who prayed the rosary for politicians they never even met. We learned it from our titos who voted for the same surname for decades. We learned it from our teachers who told us that questioning authority was bastos. So we bow to billboards, genuflect to names, build shrines out of campaign jingles, and grant offertories out of our votes.

The Philippines is a false democracy. This is unadulterated cultism and fanaticism. But it all requires devotion. A devotion that we can only offer without question because it is the sole practice we have inherited since the colonial age.

Scrutiny is not treason at all. It is the price of public office—the very Constitutional backbone expected of every public servant of the public trust. But so shamelessly, in this country? The moment you demand accountability, you become the enemy. Activists are “terrorists” and critics are “communists.” The system of suppression has not changed since Rizal’s time, when “erehe” or heretics and “pilibustero” or subversives, were used to disdain and detain dissidents. 

We learn to worship before we even learn to read. To think that the barangay captain is a good man because he gave us ayuda during the pandemic. But we don’t even ask why the ayuda was late or why it was only half of what was promised. Wow, the mayor drives a McLaren while we waste half of our day on an uncomfortable commute. We were taught to say salamat. Salamat po. Maraming salamat po. To be grateful for crumbs when we deserve better.

And we avoid the fact that the system does not need to kill us. It only needs us to kill each other. We do its dirty work for it by shaming the whistleblower, mocking the activist, calling the critic maingay. Maarte. Bida-bida. We tell them, “Andaming dada, wala namang nagawa.” When really, them speaking up has done us more justice than the hollow promise of service from who we appointed in the first place. We protect the powerful because we are afraid of becoming the powerless.

From here and on, it will only get worse. The red-tagging will escalate, the killings will increase, and the disappearances will become more efficient. All the idols will grow taller if we continue to bow lower. And that is what we do because that is who we are. A nation of devotees who sacrificed their democracy for the comfort of kneeling and staying quiet.

No one is coming. Not Marcos. Not Duterte. Not even Leni or Risa. Not any politician with a kind smile and a campaign promise. Not the Church. Not celebrities we praise. Not influencers we follow. No one is our savior. Only our self who is too afraid to speak, too comfortable to act, too tired to fight. And we are failing right now. We are failing every single day.

So what do we do? We stop kneeling. We stop bowing. We stop clapping. We stop pretending that silence is neutrality, that complicity is safety. We start asking bakit? We start demanding nasaan? We start insisting sino? Because if we do not start now, then when? If we never stop kneeling, we will never be free.