The Promise That Failed: Why the 1987 Constitution No Longer Serves the Filipino Dream

The Promise That Failed: Why the 1987 Constitution No Longer Serves the Filipino Dream

(From FB post of Teddy Adarna on 05/02/2025)

In 1987, the Filipino people stood at the crossroads of history. Fresh from the shackles of a brutal dictatorship, they raised their ink-stained fingers and gave birth to a charter that promised to uphold democracy, defend civil liberties, and deliver justice to all.

It was a moment of light after years of silence, torture, and fear.

But three decades later, that light has dimmed.

The 1987 Constitution, once hailed as the beacon of post-Marcos freedom, now stands as a relic—revered in theory, ignored in practice, and weaponized by the very forces it sought to restrain. It has become a castle of noble words built on the swamp of elite control. Its promise remains unfulfilled. Its principles hollowed out. Its soul hijacked.

Let us ask without fear: Has this Constitution truly served the Filipino people—or has it served as a shield for the few, a tranquilizer for the masses, and a smokescreen for betrayal?

A Dream Deferred

Yes, the 1987 Constitution enshrined freedoms—speech, press, religion. It reestablished the three branches of government. It created independent commissions. It empowered the people with initiative, referendum, and recall. On paper, it is brilliant.

But the Filipino does not live on paper.

In reality, the law has been a polite suggestion to the powerful and a cruel joke to the powerless. The poor still beg for justice in courts that speak in delay. The farmer still tills land he will never own. The laborer still works without security. The jeepney driver still fights just to be heard.

The law is not blind in the Philippines—it is merely blindfolded while thieves rob the nation with impunity.

Oligarchs in Democracy’s Clothing

The Constitution’s gravest failure is its inability to dismantle the elite democracy it inherited. Political dynasties—explicitly prohibited—have only multiplied. Elections have become reality shows, dominated by celebrities and warlords, not visionaries and statesmen.

Meanwhile, the same families who monopolized land, power, and wealth in 1972 are the ones writing laws, cornering contracts, and funding campaigns in 2025.

Democracy was restored—but only for those who could afford it.

Economic Shackles in a Global Age

While Southeast Asian neighbors sprinted ahead with open markets, bold infrastructure, and inclusive growth, the Philippines clung to economic protectionism embedded in its Constitution. Foreign ownership limits were meant to guard sovereignty—but in truth, they’ve protected monopolies and blocked opportunity.

We have fenced ourselves in with patriotism while the world has passed us by.

Unitary Decay and the Case for Federalism

Metro Manila, bloated and bursting, controls the budget, the narrative, the future. The provinces remain beggars, waiting for the trickle of development from Imperial Manila. How can a nation of 7,641 islands be governed by one center, one voice, one capital?

Federalism isn’t just a governance model—it’s a moral imperative for a country fractured by geography, culture, and inequality.

The Constitution is Not Sacred. The People Are.

Let this be said plainly: The Constitution is not the gospel. It is not infallible. It is not sacred.

What is sacred is the Filipino people—the mother feeding three children with sardinas and panis rice; the teacher who walks miles to reach a rural school; the OFW who sacrifices her soul for dollars. If the law no longer serves them, then the law must change.

A Call to Reimagine

We must begin the national conversation—not of convenience, but of courage.

Should we shift to a parliamentary system where parties and platforms matter more than name and fame?

Should we open the economy wisely to real competition, not just foreign exploitation?

Should we federalize power so regions can rise with dignity?

Should we finally build a justice system that punishes the guilty—even if they wear a barong or a robe?

And most of all: Should we write a new Constitution—crafted not in the halls of privilege, but in the plazas and classrooms of a participatory republic?

Final Word

The 1987 Constitution was born from revolution. Perhaps it is time for its successor to be born from awakening.

The Filipino is not doomed to a cycle of broken promises. But as long as we mistake legal documents for deliverance, and confuse symbolic democracy with authentic justice, we will remain prisoners of our own illusions.

It is time to stop worshipping a paper god.

It is time to build a living charter—written not just by lawyers, but by the people; defended not just by words, but by will.

Only then will the Philippines rise—not as a cautionary tale, but as a nation finally worthy of its own dream.