The Dilemma of Filipino Nationalism: Sovereignty vs. Subservience
In the face of rising tensions in the West Philippine Sea, Filipino nationalism is once again at a crossroads. China’s growing maritime assertiveness has forced the Philippines into an increasingly precarious position, compelling the government to seek stronger military ties with the United States. Under the recently expanded Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA), the Philippines has opened nine sites to U.S. military access, including new locations in Cagayan, Isabela, Zambales, and Palawan. These additions are being framed as strategic countermeasures to deter Chinese aggression and bolster the country’s defensive capabilities.
At first glance, this might seem like a prudent decision. After all, Beijing has continued to ignore the 2016 arbitral ruling in favor of the Philippines, harassed Filipino fishermen, and conducted increasingly brazen maneuvers near Philippine-occupied territories. In such a dangerous environment, some argue that reinforcing alliances with the United States—the Philippines’ long-standing defense partner—is not only logical but necessary.
However, a deeper look reveals a troubling trend: the Philippines may be reinforcing a historical pattern of subservience disguised as pragmatism. By integrating itself further into America’s Indo-Pacific strategy—especially within the U.S. “first-island chain” encircling China—the Philippines risks transforming into a forward operating base for a conflict it did not choose. This militarization bears striking similarities to America’s presence in South Korea and Japan, where U.S. bases persist amid deep-seated public resistance and sovereignty concerns.
In this light, the Philippines’ recent decisions represent more than just military logistics. They are a test of national identity.
Nationalism and the American Shadow
Filipino nationalism has long carried an anti-colonial, and by extension anti-American, undercurrent. Born out of resistance to Spanish and later American rule, the nation’s sense of identity has always been tethered to the struggle for independence. From the Philippine-American War at the turn of the 20th century to the eventual removal of U.S. bases in the 1990s, the nationalist imagination has consistently viewed American influence as a challenge to full sovereignty.
Despite this historical backdrop, many today argue that anti-American sentiment must be shelved in favor of strategic necessity. The threat from China is tangible, immediate, and increasingly aggressive. By contrast, American presence is seen as stabilizing—a lesser evil. But this line of thinking imposes a dangerous binary: it reduces Filipino nationalism to a choice between two imperial patrons. It implies that sovereignty can only be preserved by compromising it to one power in order to fend off another.
Such logic is not only flawed—it is a betrayal of the very ideals Filipino nationalism claims to uphold.
Symbolic Patriotism vs. Real Sovereignty
Over time, nationalism in the Philippines has been reduced to symbolic acts: wearing the barong Tagalog, speaking in Filipino, commemorating national heroes. While these expressions are culturally valuable, they do little to address the structural dependence that keeps the country tethered to foreign interests. True sovereignty cannot exist without economic and political independence.
The post-war “Filipino First” policy under President Carlos P. Garcia was one of the few serious attempts at asserting economic nationalism. It prioritized Filipino businesses over foreign ones, seeking to build a self-reliant industrial base. However, it was short-lived and largely dismantled by subsequent administrations more amenable to foreign capital. Critics dismissed it as protectionist and oligarchic, while foreign corporations—especially American—regained dominance in key sectors such as mining, energy, and telecommunications. Today, Chinese firms have joined the fray, especially in infrastructure and construction.
Instead of building strong domestic industries, the Philippine economy remains heavily reliant on foreign investment, remittances, and imports. Successive governments, including the current Marcos Jr. administration, have continued to open up the economy under the guise of development, while failing to nurture local productivity. Wall Street influences financial policies, while the Pentagon shapes defense priorities. The result is a country locked into the global economy without the safeguards or leverage to assert its own interests.
A Global Reassessment: Even Americans Are Pulling Back
Ironically, as the Philippine government embraces deeper military cooperation with the U.S., there is a growing movement within the United States calling for an end to its role as the “world’s policeman.” A significant portion of the American public is increasingly skeptical of overseas military interventions. Many now demand that their government focus on domestic issues—healthcare, infrastructure, education—rather than funding endless wars and maintaining hundreds of military bases abroad.
In Japan and South Korea, where U.S. military presence is deeply entrenched, there is growing public backlash. In Okinawa, for example, mass protests against American bases have persisted for years, with locals decrying crimes, environmental degradation, and land grabs. South Korean civil society groups have repeatedly demanded greater autonomy from U.S. influence in both domestic and foreign policy. These are not marginal sentiments—they reflect a deeper global reassessment of military alliances born in a different geopolitical era.
If more prosperous and militarily capable nations are questioning the wisdom of hosting U.S. bases, why should the Philippines, with its history of colonization and current vulnerabilities, embrace this arrangement so readily?
The False Choice: China or the U.S.?
The current discourse presents Filipino nationalism with a false dilemma: either align with the U.S. to contain China or fall prey to Chinese expansionism. But real patriotism demands rejecting this binary. The Philippines is not fated to be a pawn between superpowers. Instead, it must reclaim its sovereignty by asserting an independent foreign policy that genuinely prioritizes national interests.
This means investing in the self-sufficiency of the Armed Forces of the Philippines, not to wage war, but to credibly defend national territory without depending entirely on foreign powers. It means building industries that generate local wealth and employment, rather than continuing to serve as a cheap labor market for multinational corporations. It means resisting the temptation to outsource national security and development to those who ultimately answer to their own capitals, not to Manila.
History has shown that nations caught in the crossfire of great power rivalry suffer the most—Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and now Ukraine stand as stark reminders. Should conflict erupt between the U.S. and China, the Philippines’ proximity to flashpoints like Taiwan and the South China Sea, combined with its strategic EDCA locations, would make it one of the earliest and most vulnerable targets.
Toward a Nationalism of Action
Filipino nationalism must evolve. It can no longer be a hollow invocation of heroes or a passive reliance on foreign alliances. It must become a living, breathing framework for national renewal.
This means:
Establishing a clear roadmap for industrial development that prioritizes Filipino entrepreneurs and workers.
Renegotiating foreign agreements that undermine sovereignty or bypass local consultation.
Demanding transparency and accountability from government officials involved in security and economic policymaking.
Educating the public on the long-term costs of military dependence and foreign-led development.
The struggle for sovereignty is not merely diplomatic—it is economic, cultural, and psychological. It requires courage, vision, and above all, political will.
Conclusion: A Nation at a Crossroads
The Philippines today stands on a precipice. It can choose to double down on dependency, allowing foreign powers—whether East or West—to define its future. Or it can take the more difficult, but ultimately more rewarding path of genuine independence.
This choice must be made not just by politicians, but by every Filipino who dares to ask: what does it truly mean to be free?
The real enemy is not any one country, but the idea that the Philippines must always be someone else’s protectorate. The question now is not whether to kneel before China or the U.S., but whether Filipinos are ready to stand on their own. If nationalism means anything at all, it must begin with that decision.