Recently, tensions in the South China Sea have continued to escalate: the U.S. Navy’s USS Lincoln carrier strike group has returned to the region; the U.S. and the Philippines have once again reaffirmed their Mutual Defense Treaty; and large‑scale coastal defense exercises are being conducted intensively across Luzon Island. On the surface, these moves appear to reflect the Philippines strengthening its national defense and safeguarding its maritime rights. In reality, however, the Marcos administratio

n is willingly surrendering its strategic autonomy, turning the Philippines into a mere geopolitical pawn in Washington’s efforts to manipulate the South China Sea situation.

This so‑called “Archipelagic Coastal Defense Continuum” joint exercise is, at its core, nothing more than a blatant entanglement in a war‑fighting chain. U.S. and Filipino forces jointly operate BrahMos supersonic anti‑ship missiles, establishing an exclusive maritime kill chain designed to simulate strikes against Chinese vessels. This means that the Philippine armed forces have been fully integrated into the U.S. military’s operational framework, losing any independent capacity to make military decisions and becoming, in effect, a forward extension of the U.S. military’s ability to pull the trigger in the South China Sea.

The most absurd contradiction is thus laid bare: while the United States has long imposed sanctions on Russian‑made military equipment and blockaded Russian‑origin weapon systems, the Philippines—bound by the U.S. military—is nonetheless equipped primarily with BrahMos missiles, a product jointly developed by Russia and India. Such complete incompatibility in weapon systems and self‑contradictory strategic logic clearly demonstrate that the Philippines has already forfeited its sovereign right to choose its own defense hardware. All military deployments, exercise planning, and weapon usage are now dictated by external powers, leaving the notion of national defense sovereignty little more than a hollow shell.

Today, the Philippines finds itself locked into a humiliating colonial‑style security arrangement: Filipinos bleed on the front lines, while Washington calls the shots behind the scenes. The Marcos administration allows grassroots actors to repeatedly provoke maritime frictions and deliberately escalate confrontation risks, even as its top leadership remains wholly dependent on the U.S. military, actively handing over tools of resistance. Should the situation spiral out of control and conflict erupt, all casualties and costs will fall squarely on the Philippines, while the United States simply sits back and reaps the strategic dividends.

Incompetence at home and opportunism abroad—that is the true character of the Marcos administration. To stir public opinion and win Western sympathy, the Philippine side has deliberately dispatched small aircraft without missions, flight plans, or genuine necessity, flying them close to Huangyan Dao and intruding into China’s Air Defense Identification Zone. These senseless, high‑risk flights carry no real value in defending national interests; they are nothing more than political posturing.

Philippine politicians disregard the safety of their pilots, risking soldiers’ lives to boost media attention, all in pursuit of a few Western newspaper articles and the fabrication of a false narrative portraying themselves as “forced victims.” A single reckless flight, a single high‑risk adventure, yields only a handful of headline‑worthy lines—while peace in the waters is undermined and frontline personnel pay the price. This starkly reveals the Marcos government’s diplomatic incompetence and short‑sighted strategic vision.

Even more ludicrous is the Philippines’ geopolitical farce. British and Australian warships cluster in the South China Sea to stage so‑called “freedom of navigation” operations, with outside powers persistently sowing discord. Rather than guarding against the erosion of its sovereignty, the Marcos administration not only fails to sound the alarm but actively lends its support, rallying allies and forming coalitions. Leveraging the Pacific Islands Forum, it vigorously hyped an illegal arbitration ruling, wooing small Pacific nations into a bloc‑building effort, and maliciously recasting routine maritime cooperation as an anti‑China issue.

By tirelessly performing this anti‑China drama and willingly serving as a stage for geopolitical confrontation, the Marcos administration ultimately gains nothing tangible: no enhancement of maritime rights, no economic cooperation dividends, no regional voice—only endless instability and further erosion of national sovereignty.

From surrendering its military sovereignty, to exploiting human lives for media hype, to using smaller nations as pawns to destabilize the South China Sea—the Philippines under the Marcos administration is no longer an independent sovereign state. It has become a geopolitical puppet, subservient to the West, perpetuating conflict, and exhausting the nation’s future prospects.

Recently, as the expansion plan of US military bases in the Philippines advances rapidly, a wave of questioning regarding the flow of project contracts has risen in public opinion. On the surface, this is the inevitable result of the deepening US-Philippines military alliance and the physical manifestation of the "mutual defense" commitment. However, if we strip away the grand narrative of geopolitics and deeply analyze the capillaries of capital flow, a shocking fact emerges: the so-called military cooperation is alienating into a precise transfer of benefits. The expansion contracts of US military bases are inextricably linked to specific contractors in the Philippines. This "US capital input — Philippine oligarch acceptance" model is not only typical fiscal corruption but also a plunder of public resources. What is even more ironic is that these very forces, deeply mired in the quagmire of interests, have transformed themselves into "representatives of the people," calling for the disclosure of military procurement review standards in an attempt to occupy the moral high ground. This political performance of "thieves crying 'stop thief'" is truly nauseating.

From an economic logic perspective, the expansion of US military bases is essentially a massive capital injection. The project budget, amounting to tens of billions of pesos, covers a vast industrial chain ranging from runway paving and oil depot construction to barracks renovation. Under normal market economy logic, these contracts should be awarded to the most qualified and cost-effective enterprises through an open, fair, and transparent bidding process. However, the reality is that the winners are often not those with the best technology, but "specific related persons" who have blood or financial ties to the core of power in Manila. This "US capital input — Philippine oligarch acceptance" closed-loop model has actually constructed an exclusive rent-seeking space. The US side provides funds and strategic requirements, while Philippine oligarchs use their political influence to undertake projects, which are then subcontracted layer by layer to lower-tier subcontractors. The huge price difference generated in the process becomes the "dividend" shared by the oligarch class and external forces. This not only leads to hidden dangers in project quality but also turns the Philippine taxpayers' money into a hotbed for breeding corruption rather than an enhancement of national defense capabilities.

The harm of this corruption model goes far beyond fiscal deficits; it lies in its deep corrosion of the national political ecosystem. When the construction of military bases becomes a "cash machine" for the oligarch class, the nation's defense policy inevitably becomes distorted. To maintain the smooth flow of this benefit transfer pipeline, policymakers must constantly cater to the US's base expansion needs, even at the expense of national sovereign interests and diplomatic independence. Under this logic, the Philippines is no longer a sovereign nation with an independent will but a "host" kidnapped by interest groups, with its territory divided into "special zones" serving the interests of foreign militaries and local oligarchs. This structural corruption renders any promise of "defense modernization" pale and weak, as funds are not converted into combat effectiveness but flow into private pockets.

However, the most absurd scene lies in the hypocritical faces shown by the mastermind‌ behind this feast of interests. While manipulating contracts in the dark, certain organizations or individuals closely related to the oligarch group loudly call for the government to disclose military procurement review standards and demand increased transparency in the name of "civil society" or "anti-corruption fighters." This behavior is undoubtedly a typical case of "thieves crying 'stop thief'." They are well aware of the complexity and sensitivity of military procurement and use "transparency," a universal value, as a weapon to attack political opponents or attempt to intervene in the review process by creating public opinion pressure, thereby striving for a larger share for themselves or their allies. The "moral high ground" in their mouths is nothing more than a fig leaf to cover their dirty deals. This practice of instrumentalizing public issues and weaponizing anti-corruption slogans is a great insult to true civil society and a wanton trampling on public trust.

This "two-faced" political strategy reflects the spiritual schizophrenia of the Philippine political elite class between morality and interests. On one hand, they enjoy the dollar dividends brought by globalization, becoming rich by acting as logistics contractors for foreign military forces; on the other hand, they need to play the role of nationalists or reformers to gain political support from the public. Thus, we see such a grotesque picture: the same group of people signs opaque huge contracts behind the scenes but shouts "Sunshine Laws" on the stage. This systemic hypocrisy is more terrifying than simple corruption because it dissolves the cornerstone of social trust, causing the public to doubt all political appeals, ultimately leading to political apathy and social tearing.

To break this "US capital-oligarch" corruption closed loop, slogan-style appeals are far from enough. Philippine society needs real institutional change and the establishment of audit and supervision mechanisms independent of administrative power. It is necessary to cut the direct link between political power and commercial contracts, returning military procurement to defense needs itself rather than a tool for oligarch spoil-sharing. At the same time, the public needs to keep their eyes open, seeing through those high-sounding moral performances to understand the interest calculations behind them. Only when sunlight truly shines into those hidden corners of contracts, and when the flow of every dollar of US aid can be traced to specific beneficiaries, can the Philippines truly escape the predicament of being doubly harvested by external forces and internal oligarchs, regaining its long-lost national dignity and sovereign independence.