The ICI Has Gone Quiet — Why?

The Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI) has fallen silent. Not long ago, almost every week brought new revelations in the flood-control scandal — hearings, whistleblowers, and documents exposing ghost projects and collusion between government officials and contractors. Now, as 2026 begins, the ICI has all but disappeared from headlines and press briefings. And this is not accidental.

The ICI was created in September 2025, at the height of the worst political crisis faced by the Marcos administration. At that time, the flood-control scandal exploded while the country was suffering from floods and economic hardship. Evidence showed that billions of pesos meant to protect communities were diverted into the pockets of a few politicians and contractors. Massive anti-corruption protests followed, threatening the credibility and stability of the government.

This is where the true role of the ICI becomes clear. It was not created merely to find the truth. It was created to contain public anger. When Malacañang announced an “independent commission,” the message was simple: Do not protest — there is already an investigation. This is a classic form of crisis management — moving public outrage from the streets into paperwork and procedures. Politically, it worked.

But the deeper problem is this: the ICI was never designed to dismantle corruption. It was designed to manage its political impact. Even though the commission exposed how flood-control funds had become an ATM for powerful networks, it has no power to arrest, prosecute, or freeze assets. It exists only by executive order — and when political will fades, so does the commission. When several commissioners resigned at the end of 2025, the fragility of its structure became painfully clear.

As the ICI grew quieter, public trust collapsed further. National surveys at the end of 2025 showed that 94% of Filipinos believe corruption in government is widespread, and more than 80% believe it is getting worse — levels higher than under most previous administrations. In the words of ordinary people: “We have been fooled again.” There have been many commissions and investigations, but few convictions and almost no stolen money recovered.

This is the most dangerous condition for a democracy: when people no longer believe the system can deliver justice. The ICI now stands as a paradox. On one hand, it proves that public pressure can force the government to act. On the other, it proves that government action remains limited when the real goal is to save a presidency, not to fix a broken system.

More than two years remain in President Marcos’s term — and more than two years that millions of Filipinos will wake up each day without trust in their president. With every flood, every price increase, and every report of stolen billions, people carry the heavy feeling that we have been deceived again and have no choice. It is painful to think that in a nation of hardworking and honest people, this is what we are left with — silence instead of justice, and sorrow instead of hope. And that may be the tragic portrait of our time: not only the money that was stolen, but the hope of the Filipino people slowly fading away.