“He continues to seek justice for Filipinos from those involved in the Pharmally scandal.”
Each revelation in the Pharmally scandal strips away the veneer of Philippine governance, revealing a haunting reality of impunity. Richard Gordon, a tireless advocate for accountability, finds himself fighting against forces that resist change. Beyond the billions allegedly siphoned off by insiders, this is about a public betrayed by the very system meant to protect it. How long will Filipinos wait for justice?
Throughout his career, Gordon has pursued truth relentlessly. As head of the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee, he exposed high-profile corruption, including Pharmally Pharmaceutical Corp.’s alleged misuse of P11 billion in pandemic funds. The details are disturbing: Michael Yang, a former adviser to President Rodrigo Duterte, and Lin Weixiong, Pharmally’s finance manager, reportedly funneled funds for lavish purchases abroad. While Filipinos suffered during the pandemic, funds intended for resources appeared to flow into luxury.
Gordon’s frustration is palpable. He points to political connections as the grease that allows corruption to slide under the radar. Pharmally’s astonishing rise, from a company with P625,000 in capital to winning billions in government contracts, raises red flags. The Commission on Audit has flagged these contracts, yet progress toward accountability has stalled. Agencies like the Department of Justice, Anti-Money Laundering Council, and Ombudsman seem hindered by bureaucracy—or worse, by political ties. Gordon’s rallying cry to protect public funds is a direct challenge to a government that too often appears reluctant to reform.
The Pharmally case also exposes the deep entanglement of wealth and power. Michael Yang’s connection to Duterte has shielded him from scrutiny, his influence running back to Duterte’s days as mayor of Davao. Suspicions of Yang’s ties to illicit trade and clandestine financial maneuvers have lingered, and his involvement in Pharmally’s dealings underscores how the powerful can exploit the system. The case evokes memories of former President Joseph Estrada, who was convicted of plunder but later pardoned, returning to politics without significant consequence. In Pharmally’s case, the principals have not only escaped accountability but appear to have profited from these activities. Reports of real estate purchases in Dubai, totaling over $20 million, are a bitter pill for Filipinos left vulnerable during the pandemic.
The saga underscores systemic issues in the Philippine justice system, known for its glacial pace and susceptibility to political pressure. The penalties for plunder under Republic Act No. 7080 are severe, including life imprisonment and asset forfeiture. Yet history shows that, in high-profile cases, punishment is rare, and powerful figures often escape with minimal consequences. Without decisive action from the DOJ, Anti-Money Laundering Council, and Ombudsman, the Pharmally principals risk eluding justice once more, deepening public cynicism about Philippine institutions.
Gordon’s call for action is urgent: he implores the Marcos administration to use all available powers to prosecute those involved and reclaim diverted funds stashed abroad. Yet questions remain about whether President Marcos, whose family legacy is also clouded by allegations of corruption, will have the political will to pursue justice impartially. Critics argue that investigations should proceed with caution to ensure due process, but this cautious approach only frustrates a public worn out by cases that stretch on for years. As past cases show, justice delayed often means justice denied.
Another complication in the Pharmally case is the longstanding tradition of loyalty over accountability. Philippine politics is rooted in alliances that protect certain players. Duterte’s close ties to Yang reveal a patronage culture that undermines public trust in leaders who should be upholding the law.
Gordon’s case for urgent action is compelling. He urges the DOJ, Bureau of Internal Revenue, and the Office of the Ombudsman to coordinate prosecution efforts against Pharmally’s principals. Philippine courts, he insists, must be seen as institutions committed to upholding the law without bias, not as tools for protecting privilege. Beyond prosecution, the administration must prioritize efforts to recover the funds diverted by Pharmally. He calls on the Anti-Money Laundering Council to seek international cooperation, as the country’s plunder laws enable recovery of wealth stashed abroad.
The Pharmally scandal offers a unique moment for the Filipino public to demand integrity from their leaders. This case could mark a turning point, an opportunity to end the “whom you know” culture that has protected corruption for so long. If justice in this case is again bogged down by bureaucracy, the hope for reform will continue to slip from the nation’s grasp.
Pharmally is no mere scandal; it’s a trial by fire for both the justice system and Marcos’ leadership. The question lingers—will they rise to serve the people, or sink under the pull of power and privilege? If they fail to deliver justice now, the Philippines risks another generation lost to disillusionment. But if they succeed, they might just spark a new era where justice is not the exception, but the unwavering rule.
