The word “justice” seems to apply only to those in power. Though it is proclaimed as a universal principle, it is not.

Take, for instance, the case of the plunderers behind the multi-billion-peso flood control projects. Their crimes demand urgent and decisive punishment, yet to this day, not one among the big fish has been arrested or held accountable. In stark contrast, the young stunnas who dared to protest this blatant corruption—many of whom come from the very communities suffering from floods and deep poverty—were swiftly accosted, detained, and even tortured on the very same day they raised their voices.

Former President Rodrigo Duterte now faces trial before the International Criminal Court (ICC) for crimes against humanity arising from the widespread extrajudicial killings committed under Oplan Tokhang. Thousands were officially reported killed, with many more cases unrecorded—bringing estimates of the total death toll to as high as 20,000 lives lost.

For crimes of such magnitude, the Government of the Philippines should have long built a strong domestic case—holding every perpetrator accountable, uniformed or civilian, including Duterte himself. Yet, instead of justice at the home front, the victims’ families have been forced to seek redress from international courts.

Today, the former president sits in relative comfort in detention—attended by medical staff, nutritionists, and a team of high-priced lawyers whose strategies are designed to delay the trial. Meanwhile, his daughter continues to serve as Vice President, trying to diffuse her own corruption scandal—the unexplained use of ₱125 million in confidential funds in a span of 11 days.

All this unfolds while the Filipino masses continue to endure rising poverty and oppressive taxation, paying inflated prices on basic commodities, only to watch their hard-earned money disappear into the pockets of those in power.

Are we ever to believe that justice will truly prevail in this country—that those in power will one day be held accountable for their crimes? Because in truth, not one past president implicated in grave offenses has ever faced real punishment.

Take Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, for example. She was exposed for electoral fraud to secure her presidency, and her administration was marked by blood and corruption—1,206 activists killed, 206 forcibly disappeared, and countless others silenced. Her regime reeked of scandal: the NBN-ZTE deal, the fertilizer fund scam, and the misuse of Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office intelligence funds, among others. Yet, after four years of hospital detention at the Veterans Memorial Medical Center, she walked free—acquitted by the Supreme Court at the start of Rodrigo Duterte’s presidency, who openly backed her release. Not only did she regain her freedom, she returned to power and even served as Speaker of the House in 2018.

Former president Joseph “Erap” Estrada was ousted for receiving bribes or “kickbacks” fromjueteng,an illegal gambling operations and from the misuse of tobacco excise taxes and other public funds. In 2007, he was convicted of plunder and sentenced to reclusion perpetua but was pardoned by President Arroyo that same year. With his restored civil and political rights, and obviously unlimited funds from all those kickbacks, he ran for the presidency in 2010, coming second to Noynoy Aquino. His political comeback came after he won Manila mayoralty in 2013.

Estrada made sure to keep the power in the family by putting his sons—not just one but two of them—in the Senate. And it was not a surprise that his junior, Jose “Jinggoy” Estrada, Jr. would also be involved in a massive corruption case. In 2014, Jinggoy was arrested for plunder and graft in the pork barrel scam amassing Php183 million. He was detained for three years in the Philippine National Police Criminal Investigation and Detection Group Custodial Center. He was later able to post bail. He ran for Senate in 2022 and won.

One of Jinggoy’s co-accused is Senator Ramon “Bong” Revilla Jr. His kickbacks amounted to Php224 on the pork barrel funds but the Sandiganbayan ruled there was no proof Revilla personally received the money. So yes, he continued to run for Senate and won by just dancing budots on national TV. The two are now implicated again in the corruption case of ghost flood-control projects.

And then there are the Marcoses. With all their crimes—the billions in ill-gotten wealth, the tens of thousands of human rights violations, and a conviction by the U.S. District Court—they were ousted through People Power, only to find their way back into the highest offices of the land.

No justice in a capitalist order

In capitalism, where wealth and profit dictate value, justice becomes nothing more than a commodity. Its universality is just an illusion. It is a privilege. The moneyed can buy influence, hire the best lawyers, and manipulate the very courts that are meant to uphold fairness, while the masses are left defenseless, criminalized, or silenced.

Marxism maintains that under capitalism justice is not designed to ensure equality. The justice system is structured to preserve hierarchy and protect the ruling class and maintain power and control over the working class. The system thrives on exploitation and oppression, sustained by its coercive apparatus—the police, the military, the laws, courts and prisons and even education and social institutions. These, alongside dominant narratives shaped by the elite, are weaponized against individuals, organizations, and movements that seek to disrupt or transform the existing oppressive and exploitative social order.

At times, bits and fragments of justice are granted—not to uphold accountability, but to pacify public unrest. The brief detention of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo or the arrest of Maj. Jovito Palparan, the notorious military general behind countless human rights violations, was meant to pacify the people’s outrage. This is why Arroyo and the Estradas walked free after only a few years, and why the Marcoses managed to claw their way back to power. The presidents keep pardoning their predecessors to keep the order of corruption and plunder as they too benefit from it.

Therefore, as long as the same capitalist structures remain intact, impunity will persist.

Build a new just society

We can only establish a just society when the structures that feed greed and impunity are dismantled. In the Philippines, a semifeudal and semicolonial society, it is through a people’s democratic revolution with a socialist perspective.

Yes, this revolution is armed, and rightfully so. It is not a matter of vengeance but rather a transformation. The machinery of the existing order will be used and weaponized to suppress and crush the people’s revolution to keep their economic and political power.

In constructing this new society, the state will be built to provide for its citizens its the basic needs—as it should always be. Our country will break free from the dictates of imperialism and pursue national liberation and genuine democracy. The state will take preference to the less privileged and impose graver and swift accountability on those in power.

Justice will serve a certain class in this society. This time justice will serve the working class—not the landlords, the comprador bourgeoisie, and the bureaucrat capitalists who for a long time have exploited and oppressed the Filipino people.

Justice can be possible, even a lasting peace, if the people’s demand for national liberation and democracy is satisfied. The National Democratic Front and its allied organizations envision that the people’s democratic government is to defend the people by enabling them to achieve all-around progress as enshrined in its 12 Point Program. (Mia Andres)