Challenging everyday ‘unfreedoms’

This June 12 marks the celebration of the Philippines’ 128^th Independence Day. The Philippines has often been criticized as being nominally independent and free — in that while we are free from the formal governance of colonial powers, it remains questionable whether we are truly “free.”

Understandably, a lot of our attention is on the chaos (an understatement) in the legislative branch in the last few weeks. The lack of good governance and corruption are issues at the forefront of everyone’s minds. This piece is not an attempt to provide a synthesis on current events in Philippine politics, but instead some food for thought: equal attention should also be paid towards the “unfreedoms” that plague our everyday lives and inform the way we interact with the government, and with each other.

First, consider the surface level “unfreedoms” that manifest in our political spaces. We can observe the lack of choices available in terms of political leadership. The choice of who we can vote for is often limited by factors outside an individual voter’s preference. Political dynasties persist because of the lack of real alternatives — not everyone is able to mount a large-scale campaign because of the massive financial resources required. Voter choices become limited to those who are able to mobilize resources (or those whom resources are mobilized for).

Second, consider economic “unfreedom.” Recently, a World Bank report found that 28% of Filipinos remain vulnerable to falling into poverty. While crises are inevitable, what remains alarming is the rising number of people who do not have the means to cushion themselves from shocks. Further, the Octa Research’s Tugon ng Masa survey in Q1 of 2026 found that 35% of Filipino families consider themselves “poor.” More than thresholds identified by policymakers and academics, people themselves highlight experiences of hunger and uncertainty about their future. Poverty disempowers — more than the ability to do and afford something, it is largely the inability to do things and the lack of choices available to people with no means. It is the inability to choose the food that you eat, the education you can avail of, and the healthcare available to you. Economic inequality is deeply intertwined with political participation (or the lack thereof).

Beyond elected officials, scholars such as Wataru Kusaka and Marco Garrido have also problematized social divides that manifest in urban spaces. Kusaka’s Moral Politics in the Philippines (2019) locates this divide in the “moralization” of politics — that is, when middle class citizens see themselves as “moral” and upstanding citizens fighting for democracy. However, this construction of a moral identity inadvertently creates an “out” group — those who are outside this moral citizenry (typically the urban poor) are seen as “other,” “deviant,” and the enemy. In The Patchwork City (2023), Garrido analyzes the relationship between urban space and class interaction. He highlights how even the way we structure our cities — gated subdivisions that only periodically interact with urban poor communities — can reveal deeper tenuous relationships between the middle class and urban poor. The urban poor can feel discriminated against by these physical and social barriers, and this can in turn translate into political sentiments.

Locating these ideas in our contemporary discourse, think of the staunch opposition on social media to aid programs (ayuda). While valid criticisms have been levied against these programs as short-term and as a tool to further political patronage, these criticisms have become a means to surface anti-poor sentiment. In April, Malacañang held a press briefing explaining why subsidies for the oil crisis are focused on the poorest of the poor and not the middle class, social media exploded with commentary criticizing how taxes paid by the middle class go to the poor who do not work, or are deemed “lazy.” This resentment worsens when the poor are blamed as the reason for corrupt politicians being kept in office despite the reality that our choices are, in fact, limited.

These burgeoning resentments and social divides form a third kind of “unfreedom.” A social unfreedom characterized by the static divides that limit awareness on how interconnected problems are between the middle class and the poor. The resentment becomes shorthand and constitutive of the issue of good governance. The lack of good governance becomes explainable by personal choices of the poor rather than structural economic unfreedom and weak institutions. This unfreedom leads to failing to realize that the problem of corrupt leadership affects the poor just as much (if not more) than it does the middle class — it translates directly into the lack of decisive policies to address poverty.

But therein lies the rub: when something disappears into everyday routines, we’re less likely to problematize it. We have become so used to the cacophony of rising prices and hardship and worse, yet the instinct seems to be to point fingers towards each other and not upwards towards the leadership and structures that maintain these unequal relationships. It is ironic how we look upwards towards issues of good governance and corruption yet assert that these systemic problems are because of choices made by people on the ground. That is the kind of “unfreedom” we need to challenge — that the issues we face are the faults alone of the choices we make — instead of deeper systemic unfreedoms. Indeed, the call should be towards good governance, but located within the context of everyday experiences of the absence of choice and free from moral judgment of the poor.

As we approach this 128^th Independence Day, I argue the challenge is to move towards solidarity beyond these unfreedoms that characterize our everyday life. The independence we should seek should not just be to rid ourselves of corruption and push for good governance, but to challenge the resentment that inhibits us from seeing the possibilities for common ground.

Beatriz “Trixie” Beato is an instructor at the Department of Political Science, Ateneo de Manila University. She is also a research associate at the Institute of Philippine Culture at the same university.