Centrist Democracy Political Institute - Items filtered by date: November 2026


First in a five-part series

OUR geopolitical series ended last week with a question: How does the Philippines protect itself in a world without a reliable referee? Alliances matter. So do ships, trade routes, and diplomacy. But none can substitute for a functioning state.

We now turn from the dangers outside our shores to the institutions we must build within them with another five-part series, called “Lessons from nations that chose competence.” These are countries that cultivated it, and what we can learn from them.

We begin with Norway, a quiet country that chose tomorrow. Every few years, the world becomes fascinated by the latest economic miracle — Japan. South Korea. Singapore. China. Today, artificial intelligence (AI) dominates discussions about the future.

Yet one small nation on Europe’s northern edge offers a less fashionable lesson: prosperity depends upon how a country governs opportunity. Norway’s importance lies beyond its wealth. It lies in the institutions that helped turn extraordinarily good fortune into lasting public benefit.

For the Philippines, where debate revolves around personalities, scandals, and dynastic quarrels, this raises an unfashionable question: What kind of nation are we trying to build 50 years from now?

Wealth before oil

Norway’s geography offered no easy living for people. Mountains restricted agriculture. Winters demanded preparation. Scattered coastal communities depended upon fishing, shipping, and trade.

Long before petroleum, dried cod connected Norway to European markets. Bergen became an important trading center within the Hanseatic commercial network. The sea provided livelihoods, but also demanded skills, cooperation, and the ability to plan beyond tomorrow’s weather.

Hardship alone, however, does not explain good government. Many countries have endured poverty without producing accountable institutions. Cold winters do not automatically manufacture honest politicians. Otherwise, we could reform Congress by adjusting the air conditioning.

Norway’s achievement was political and institutional. Over time, it developed a representative government, public administration, education, and habits of accountability that gave citizens a stake in how their country was governed.

We should also discard the comforting fairy tale that oil rescued an impoverished fishing village. Before the petroleum boom, Norway already possessed shipping, hydropower, industry, and a developed economy. Oil arrived in a country with institutions capable of managing it. That sequence matters. Petroleum enlarged Norway’s opportunities; it did not invent Norwegian competence.

This distinction also prevents a lazy Philippine excuse. We need not wait for an oil discovery before repairing government. The preparation comes first: capable agencies, enforceable rules, educated citizens, and public accounts that can withstand scrutiny. A windfall tests these foundations. It cannot pour them after the building has already begun to collapse.

The moment history smiled

In 1969, the discovery of Ekofisk beneath the North Sea opened a new chapter. Production began in 1971. Enormous petroleum revenues would follow, bringing both opportunity and danger.

Other resource-rich countries have discovered that abundance can finance extravagance more readily than development. Easy revenues allow governments to postpone reforms, reward supporters, and mistake a commodity boom for permanent prosperity.

Economists call the familiar danger the “resource curse.” Wealth can concentrate power, weaken accountability, and leave economies vulnerable when prices fall.

The curse is no geological inevitability. Oil does not fill out fraudulent procurement documents. Minerals do not appoint incompetent relatives. People do these things, assisted by institutions too weak or too accommodating to stop them.

Norway’s task was, therefore, larger than extracting petroleum. It had to prevent a temporary resource from dictating the country’s permanent habits.

The question was not simply how much money could be earned. It was who owned the benefit, who controlled its use and what would remain after the wells dry up.

The Philippine mirror

The Philippines should recognize the problem. We possess resources, strategic geography and people whose abilities have been demonstrated across the world.

Our nurses staff hospitals. Our seafarers keep commerce moving. Our engineers, teachers and other professionals contribute to economies whose institutions make better use of their skills.

Our tragedy is the repeated failure to convert that potential into durable national strength.

We announce opportunities with remarkable enthusiasm. Delivering them requires less photogenic work: reliable electricity, competent agencies, enforceable contracts, functioning schools, and officials who understand that public money belongs to the public.

A groundbreaking ceremony takes an afternoon. Building a capable state takes longer than a campaign jingle.

Norway offers a useful reversal of our political habits. Resource wealth became a question of public stewardship across generations, rather than merely a larger budget for the government of the day. That did not happen overnight. The Norwegian parliament established the petroleum fund in 1990; its first transfer arrived in 1996. The interval between discovery and saving reminds us that institution-building involved decisions, debate, and learning.

There was no single miraculous afternoon when every Norwegian politician acquired wisdom.

The eventual achievement rested on rules and arrangements that could outlast particular leaders. The ambition was to turn finite petroleum wealth into financial assets capable of benefiting future generations.

We will examine those arrangements more closely next week. For now, the essential point is that saving required a political commitment to people who could neither vote nor applaud: citizens not yet born.

The temptation to spend is understandable. Citizens have immediate needs, and governments must address them. Stewardship does not mean leaving schools unrepaired while congratulating ourselves on a healthy balance sheet. It means weighing present needs against future obligations, explaining those choices publicly and preventing today’s necessities from becoming an excuse for permanent political indulgence. A government can invest in its people while saving for their children. What it cannot honestly do is promise everything, spend everything, and send the bill to the unborn.

The choice of tomorrow

We should resist romanticizing Norway. Its experience cannot be detached from its history, population, economy, or political development. Petroleum prosperity also raises difficult environmental questions.

Nor does its success prove that national character is fixed, with some peoples born disciplined and others condemned to dysfunction. That explanation would excuse every failed government by blaming its citizens.

Competence must be cultivated, rewarded, and protected. Accountability must have consequences. Rules must restrain the powerful when restraint becomes inconvenient.

The Philippine lesson is practical. Recruit public servants for ability. Promote them for performance. Protect professional work from partisan interference while enforcing responsibility for failure.

Make public spending traceable. Build institutions that preserve useful policies across administrations. Give political parties programs that survive their founders and purposes beyond securing the next appointment.

Above all, stop treating every election as permission to restart the Republic.

Opportunities will continue arriving through technology, trade, resources, and our people’s abilities. Their value will depend upon whether institutions can protect them from politicians who think in election cycles and dynasties that in family successions.

The unanswered question has never been whether Filipinos are capable. It is whether our institutions can convert their capabilities into national success.

That is why Norway matters. Confronted with extraordinary good fortune, it built ways to preserve benefits beyond the present generation.

It chose tomorrow.

National greatness is not always announced by speeches, slogans, or ceremonies. Sometimes, it is built by the discipline to say no, the wisdom to save, and the humility to govern as trustees rather than owners.

To be continued on Nov. 18, 2026
Published in LML Polettiques
Wednesday, 04 November 2026 15:56

The Philippines in a world without a referee



Last in a four-part series

IN the preceding three installments, we have watched the world’s architecture change. America remains immensely powerful but cannot police every crisis. Sea lanes are contested. Regional powers are building their own arrangements. The Iran war has demonstrated that overwhelming military power does not necessarily produce political control.

We kept asking who would replace America. Perhaps nobody will. Which brings the argument home: What does the Philippines do when no reliable referee controls the field?

Geography has already decided

We can choose our policies. We cannot choose our geography. We remain 7,641 islands beside one of the world’s most contested bodies of water. The West Philippine Sea is not a distant abstraction; it is outside our front door.

Our economy depends upon maritime trade. Fuel, food, fertilizer and machinery cross oceans before reaching us. The Iran war showed how quickly distant disorder becomes domestic pain. Disrupted shipping raises transport costs; the bill reaches a Philippine gasoline station. A missile fired thousands of kilometers away can still send its invoice to Davao. Geography never accepted our application for neutrality.

Alliance is not dependency

Recognizing the limits of American power does not mean abandoning our alliance with the United States. The Mutual Defense Treaty remains fundamental. American capability, intelligence and regional presence provide deterrence we cannot reproduce alone. On Oct. 28, Philippine, American, Japanese and Australian defense leaders agreed to deepen cooperation, including joint exercises. Cooperation with South Korea, India, Indonesia and Vietnam gives us further options.

But alliance and dependency are different. An alliance combines strengths. Dependency rents somebody else’s strength because we neglected our own.

America has Europe, the Middle East, Taiwan, Korea and its domestic priorities. Even the strongest ally has finite ships, missiles, money and political attention. Our alliance must remain a pillar of Philippine security. It cannot become the entire building, particularly when we have forgotten to pour the concrete.

Strategic adulthood

The alternative to dependency is not isolation. It is strategic adulthood. A mature Philippines would preserve its American alliance while deepening regional relationships. It would engage China economically and diplomatically while defending sovereignty and maritime rights. It would work through the Asean without pretending that another communiqué can intercept a missile.

Small and middle powers survive turbulent periods by accumulating options. They use alliances to enlarge their freedom of action. The more capable we become, the more valuable we become to partners, and the less likely they are to treat us as useful geography.

Our real vulnerability

Our greatest weakness may not be the shortage of ships, aircraft or missiles. It may be the institutions behind them. Weapons are instruments. Institutions determine whether they are purchased honestly, maintained properly and deployed coherently within a long-term strategy. A government can buy a modern fighter. Keeping it flying after the ribbon-cutting requires the less photogenic arts of budgeting, logistics, training and competence.

Energy security, food resilience, infrastructure, cybersecurity, education and disaster preparedness all require institutions. A weak state can purchase impressive equipment. Only a competent state can convert resources into national power.

Corruption belongs in this discussion. Every inflated contract buys less protection. Every appointment based on loyalty rather than ability weakens the machinery expected to respond when trouble arrives. We cannot call corruption a national habit at home and then wonder why we lack national strength abroad. The enemy need not sink a ship that procurement has already prevented us from buying.

The first line of national defense is competent government.

From strategic location to strategic value

We describe the Philippines as strategically located, almost as though geography were an accomplishment. It is not. Strategic location without national capability becomes strategic vulnerability.

A harbor matters if it is modern. A population matters if it is educated. Natural resources matter if developed wisely. Alliances matter if we contribute meaningfully. Geography becomes an advantage when institutions convert location into capability.

Otherwise, we become the address where larger actors conduct their quarrels. That should be unacceptable to more than 110 million Filipinos.

The strength we already possess

Fortunately, we do not begin from nothing. Filipinos have demonstrated their abilities everywhere, too often without systems capable of multiplying those abilities at home.

Our nurses serve the world’s hospitals. Our seafarers move commerce. Our engineers and technicians compete internationally. Entrepreneurs build businesses despite bureaucracy, sometimes succeeding before government discovers another permit it forgot to require.

We do not lack talent. We lack institutions that consistently organize, reward and retain it. Strong institutions multiply competence. Weak institutions export it.

That is both the tragedy of our national failure and proof of what remains possible.

Resilience is the new security

National security means more than defending territory. Insecure energy supplies, dependence on imported food, a fragile electrical grid and limited technological capacity expose us to disruption. Citizens unable to distinguish information from manipulation are vulnerable. A political system unable to make difficult long-term decisions is profoundly vulnerable.

Yes, modernize the Armed Forces and Coast Guard. But also diversify energy, strengthen agriculture, modernize ports, defend digital infrastructure, build domestic industries, improve education and maintain strategic reserves.

By Oct. 30, the International Maritime Organization had recorded 122 confirmed incidents and 24 seafarer deaths in the Strait of Hormuz and surrounding Middle East waters. The cost extends beyond oil. Filipino seafarers face these dangers directly. Resilience means protecting supplies and the people who carry them. Disruption must not easily break us.

No one is coming

The deepest lesson of this series can be stated in four words: No one is coming.

Not literally. Allies have treaty commitments. Their response to any crisis will depend on its circumstances and their decisions. Partners will assist. Friends will cooperate. But nobody is coming to build the Philippines for us.

No American aircraft carrier can reform our bureaucracy. No Japanese investment can eliminate corruption. No Australian frigate can improve our schools. No Asean communiqué can create energy security. And no Chinese loan, however generously photographed, will teach us how to govern ourselves.

Those responsibilities are ours. They always were. The unipolar era merely allowed us to pretend otherwise.

When the whistle no longer blows

We began this series with America and end it with ourselves. For the Philippines, geopolitics is not primarily about predicting which great power will dominate the century. It is about building enough national capacity to survive whichever one does.

America will remain powerful. China will remain formidable. Regional powers will rise. Alliances will shift, sea lanes will be contested and wars will erupt where PowerPoint presentations predicted stability.

We cannot control that world. We can control the kind of Philippines that confronts it.

A weak state will keep reacting to decisions made in Washington, Beijing, Tokyo and elsewhere. A competent state will possess choices. That is the difference between being strategically located and strategically relevant.

A world without a referee should awaken us. When the whistle no longer blows, nations rediscover what they should never have forgotten: The first responsibility for defending a country’s future belongs to the country itself.The world has changed. It is time the Philippines did too.
Published in LML Polettiques