WHEN Vice President Sara Duterte came under fire for the ₱125 million confidential fund (CIF) of the Office of the Vice President—allegedly spent in just 11 days—she was met with a political firestorm.
Her accusers lined up, impeachment raps were filed, and every move she made was dissected by both traditional media and critics online.
But look just a few kilometers away, to Makati City, and one finds a glaring double standard.
Under Mayor Abigail Binay, Makati spent ₱240 million in confidential funds in 2022—and again ₱240 million in 2023—without attracting even a fraction of the outrage or scrutiny hurled at Duterte.
To be clear: ₱240 million per year, for two consecutive years. That’s nearly four times what the Department of Education—an entire national agency—was allocated in CIF under Duterte’s leadership, which stood at ₱150 million.
Let that sink in. A single city with a population of less than 700,000 residents was allocated more confidential funds than the entire Department of Education, which is responsible for over 27 million Filipino learners and one million teachers nationwide.
Justifications, But for Whom?
Mayor Binay has defended Makati’s bloated CIF by citing its role as the country’s financial center and the presence of over 60 embassies. That may be true, but does that justify confidential funds larger than national agencies? Should we not then question whether CIFs have simply become political slush funds under the guise of intelligence and peace and order?
Worse, the narrative seems selective. When Duterte was mayor of Davao, the city also had hefty CIF allocations—₱460 million in 2022, the highest in the country.
But unlike Binay, Duterte is being grilled mercilessly. When she carried that practice into national office, the pitchforks came out.
Why then does Mayor Binay, who has overseen ₱480 million in confidential fund spending in just two years, get a pass?
Crime and Context
If we measure impact, let’s consider crime. Davao City, for all its controversies, consistently ranks among the safest cities in the Philippines and even Asia.
Its crime index as of late 2023 was 27.64. Compare that to Makati, which scored a higher crime index of 38.8.
In recent months, Makati reported improvements in theft and robbery incidents, but these short-term gains do not explain or justify the continuous, high-level CIF spending.
Where exactly did the ₱240 million go each year? What tangible peace and order improvements have justified that kind of expense? Transparency is painfully lacking.
A Tale of Two Women
This isn’t just about numbers—it’s about how the political establishment picks and chooses its targets. Vice President Duterte has been put on the defensive for CIF use at the national level, while Binay quietly sails along despite far larger—and equally questionable—expenditures at the local level.
If we’re truly serious about accountability, then scrutiny should be even-handed. Makati’s CIF must face the same hard questions.
Otherwise, we are simply weaponizing transparency and turning oversight into a political tool. In a country drowning in double standards, it’s time we demand clarity, not just from those we dislike, but also from those we’re used to excusing.
