The air was thick with chants and conviction. Manila’s arteries pulsed with people—flags waving and fists raised. At Luneta, the crowd surged like a tide, a living monument of resistance. EDSA Shrine echoed with prayers and protest songs, a chorus of outrage and hope.
But just beyond the din, tucked behind the gates of Camp Aguinaldo, a different scene unfolded.
No roaring crowd. No swelling anthem. Just a handful of retired generals and a bunch of Duterte Diehard Supporters (DDS), their rally paling in comparison—quiet, awkward, and, truth be told, painfully underwhelming. It was the other rally. The one that didn’t quite fit. A square peg in a round hole.
It was supposedly to be a show of force. Instead, it became a symbol of disconnect.
Organized by retired military generals aligned with former President Rodrigo Duterte, the Camp Aguinaldo rally felt like out of sync with the national mood, tone-deaf to the public’s growing demand for genuine reform, and weighed down by the very privileges its organizers hoped to defend.
Anatomy of the Camp Aguinaldo Rally
Let’s break it down.
The rally was led by retired Armed Forces officers, many of whom had served under or supported Duterte. Their message? Condemn corruption, call for President Bongbong Marcos Jr.’s resignation, and defend Vice President Sara Duterte from criticism.
But the turnout was dismal. “Nilangaw,” as we say in the local dialect. Compared to the mammoth crowds at Luneta and EDSA Shrine, Camp Aguinaldo looked like a forgotten corner of a party no one wanted to attend.
Even worse, tensions flared. A brawl broke out between DDS and anti-Duterte factions. Chants of “Marcos, Duterte walang pinagkaiba” echoed, challenging the very narrative the retired generals were trying to push.
Strategic Undertone: A Veiled Succession Play
Let’s not kid ourselves. The call for Bongbong to resign wasn’t just about corruption—it carried a strategic undertone.
In our political system, if the President steps down, the Vice President takes over. So, when pro-Duterte retired generals chant “Marcos resign!” while insisting that VP Sara Duterte is “different,” it’s hard not to see the succession play behind the curtain.
But the public didn’t bite. The rally’s failure to gain traction showed that Filipinos are no longer easily swayed by veiled endorsements or dynastic maneuvers. We’re asking harder questions now. We’re looking for substance, not slogans.
The Pension Gap: A Silent Undercurrent
Here’s another reason why the rally flopped—and it’s personal.
During a family reunion, a teacher cousin met her retired general relative, who proudly shared his P200,000 monthly pension, lavish travels, and early retirement at 56. No contributions. Full benefits. All courtesy of the Military and Uniformed Personnel (MUP) system.
Compare that to the rest of us.
As a civil engineer, I belong to the SSS class of retirees averaging a measly monthly pension of P4,528. GSIS retirees fare slightly at P13,600. But none of us come close to the MUP average of P40,000—and certainly not to the elite tier of retired generals.
The gap isn’t just unfair. It’s unjust.
And it was built deliberately. As the Inquirer editorial pointed out, the system was designed “to reduce the chances that restive military officers would perhaps take affairs into their own hands and stage coup d’ etats.” Columnist Joel Ruiz Butuyan added that Duterte “doubled the base pay of active MUP’s, to reportedly endear himself with military and police personnel.”
In fact, the MUP pension package poses a fiscal challenge for the government and a burden for the taxpayers since it is unsustainable and unaffordable in the long run. Former Secretary of Finance Ben Diokno warned: an imminent government fiscal collapse will come about if no reforms are instituted.
So, when these same retirees call for political change, many of us see privileges, not principle.
Twin Damocles Swords Over VP Sara
VP Sara’s 2028 presidential ambition faces two looming threats:
1. Her father’s trial at The Hague for crimes against humanity—a global reckoning for the drug war that defines his presidency.
Today’s headline—“ICC details Duterte charges: murder, attempted murder across PH”—rubs salt in the gaping wound. It tells of the International Criminal Court having released the summary and details of the charges filed against her father.
2. Her own impeachment threat, stemming from allegations of misused confidential funds.
These aren’t just legal issues. They’re symbols of a shifting political tide. The Duterte brand, once formidable, is now tainted by international scrutiny and domestic fatigue.
A Shift in Political Discourse
What the Camp Aguinaldo rally failed to grasp is that the conversation in the political landscape is changing.
We’re moving away from personality-driven politics. We’re demanding policy, transparency, and fairness. The pension gap, the Hague trial, the impeachment buzz—they’re all part of a larger reckoning.
Filipinos are waking up. We’re no longer content with being spectators. We want accountability. We want reform. And we’re not afraid to call a spade a spade—calling out privilege, even when it wears a uniform.
When Power Misses The Pulse
The Camp Aguinaldo rally was billed as a show of strength. What it revealed instead was a profound disconnect—a cautionary tale of how power, when divorced from public sentiment, becomes a hollow echo.
In a time when Filipinos are demanding transparency, equity, and genuine reform, the old playbook of veiled ambitions and elite entitlements no longer holds sway. The spectacle of privilege parading as principle fell flat, not because people weren’t listening—but because they’ve learned to listen more critically.
Real change doesn’t trickle down from podiums or parade grounds. It rises from the streets, the classrooms, the quiet corners where ordinary lives are lived and dreams are built. It’s shaped by those who’ve felt the sting of inequality and still choose to speak up.
And if the Camp Aguinaldo rally taught us anything, it’s this: the future belongs not to those who cling to legacy, but to those who earn trust. Leaders who listen. Leaders who reform. Leaders who understand that the square pegs of privilege no longer fit in the round holes of a nation awakening to its people power.
Content and editing put together in collaboration with Bing Microsoft AI-powered Co-pilot
Head collage photos courtesy of Tindig Pilipino & Wikipedia; design by Canva
Still photos courtesy of Inquirer, Alab ng Maynila, You Tube, Facebook, & Philippine Defense Forces Forum/The ABL Group
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