Is the Philippine President Asia’s Richest Man?
What comes to mind when you hear the Philippines? Bananas, Filipino domestic workers and tutors, or its call center industry?
Home to over a hundred million people, the Philippines rarely grabs global headlines. Most outsiders only associate it with bananas and migrant labor. The reality inside the country, however, is far more complex than most realize.
Aerial shots of Manila, its capital, reveal a world-class metropolis. Its central business district is packed with skyscrapers, rivaling Tokyo or Hong Kong, and hosts dozens of international organizations. The Philippines is not a wealthy nation; its per capita GDP falls below Ukraine’s, making this striking skyline all the more puzzling.
Yet beneath Manila’s gleaming high-rises lie some of the world’s most wretched slums. More than 35 percent of Manila’s population lives in informal settlements, their living conditions even worse than many poor communities in India. Luxury condos in the city sell for over $6,000 per square meter, while over four million residents struggle to afford enough food. Within a five-kilometer radius, some live like Europeans, while others survive in conditions akin to sub-Saharan Africa.
This extreme divide has earned the Philippines the nickname “Latin America of Asia.” It shares Latin America’s Catholic heritage…
The Philippines spans roughly 300,000 square kilometers. Though modest in size, its population is enormous — it topped 100 million in 2019.
Southeast Asia, small in land area with few nations, is a genuine cultural melting pot, shaped by Chinese, Islamic and Buddhist civilizations. The Philippines stands apart: it is effectively a Latin American outpost in Southeast Asia.
In 1521, Ferdinand Magellan reached the archipelago, after which Spain colonized the islands. Spanish colonial rule was crude and exploitative, focused on missionary work, mining and resource plunder. The religion and economic system Spain implanted made the Philippines closely resemble Latin American nations. The only difference was its greater distance from the United States. That gap would soon close, thanks to a fateful turn of history.
The Spanish-American War broke out in 1898. The US defeated Spain and took control of the Philippines. American rule lasted until World War II. After Japan’s surrender, the Philippines gained formal independence and became a republic in 1946.
Many colonies won independence after WWII, but the Philippines had a dream start. Even under American occupation, anti-colonial sentiment existed in the US. So while Washington held full sway over the islands, it did not exploit the Philippines as brutally as Britain or France exploited their colonies. Instead, it built the country up as a Far East outpost, investing heavily in infrastructure and industry. Many Americans still view US colonial rule over the Philippines as a financial loss.
After independence, the Philippines boasted one of Asia’s most advanced industrial bases. The Korean and Vietnam Wars brought massive war profits. Buoyed by its industrial foundation and wartime windfalls, the country thrived through the 1950s and 1960s. In 1960, its per capita GDP ranked second only to Japan and Singapore in Asia, far ahead of South Korea and China. The Asian Development Bank even placed its headquarters in Manila.
But this once leading Asian economy now has a per capita GDP lower than Mongolia. How did it fall so far?
To understand modern Philippine history, one president is unavoidable: Ferdinand Emmanuel Edralin Marcos. Filipinos sum him up simply: a capable president, just deeply corrupt.
Ferdinand Marcos was born in 1917.
Famous figures often carry disputed origins. Official accounts state his mother Josefa was a landowner’s daughter. She started school late and fell for Mariano Marcos at age 21, when he was only 14. Despite the seven-year age gap, Mariano was precocious. They had Ferdinand in 1916, and Mariano Marcos became Ferdinand’s father. A seven-year age difference between partners was unusual, though not unheard of.
But Filipino folklore tells a different story of Marcos’ birth. Locals agree his mother was Josefa, yet many claim his biological father was a Chinese man named Ferdinand Chua. Chua and Josefa were in love, but his family refused to accept a Filipino daughter-in-law and rejected her. By then Josefa was pregnant. Fearing shame from an out-of-wedlock birth, her family quickly found Mariano Marcos to marry her and cover up the pregnancy. Josefa named her son Ferdinand after his biological father, and Ferdinand Chua became the boy’s godfather. He bore his legal father’s surname and his birth father’s given name.
Whether Mariano was his biological father or not, Ferdinand was known as a devoted son. Philippine politics is dominated by hundreds of political clans, and the Marcos family ranks among them. Mariano Marcos poured every cent of the family’s savings into buying votes for his political campaigns, leaving the household perpetually poorer than ordinary Filipinos.
Young Ferdinand, though poor, was brilliant with an exceptional memory and outstanding academic records. He won admission to the University of the Philippines College of Law. Beyond academics, he received military training and was reportedly an expert marksman, skilled with handguns.
In 1935, Mariano ran for congress against a tax official named Julio. Julio defeated him easily. Not content with victory, Julio mocked young Ferdinand: he had a coffin built, arranged for an actor posing as Ferdinand to lie inside, and paraded it through the streets. The harm was slight, but the insult cut deep.
This was petty and cruel. Why humiliate the son after winning an election? Julio overlooked one detail: Ferdinand was a trained marksman. If Julio wanted to put Ferdinand in a symbolic coffin, Ferdinand would put him in a real one.
On September 20, 1935, Julio was brushing his teeth in his backyard when a bullet fired from nearby woodland struck his heart. He died instantly.
Most people suspected Ferdinand pulled the trigger. He was arrested three years later, yet never convicted. He spent only a short time in custody; officials cited his outstanding academic performance as reason for leniency.
The murder did not ruin his reputation. It turned him into a national celebrity. Filipinos talked about the young man so bright he escaped the death penalty after a killing. Teenagers across the country even joked: study hard for one hundred days, get into UP College of Law.
Marcos became a lawyer after release. His career was soon interrupted by the Japanese invasion. He traded his law books for arms and joined anti-Japanese resistance forces. A formidable fighter, he led key battles in the Philippine campaign. He became the most decorated soldier in Philippine history, earning 32 medals — even Brezhnev would have envied that haul.
By 1945, when the war ended, Marcos held the rank of colonel. General MacArthur appointed him administrator of eight provinces across Luzon. With this resume, his rise into politics was seamless. He soon worked as a presidential aide, then senator, then senate president.
Educated, war-decorated, handsome and a crack shot, he enjoyed massive public appeal. In 1954, after an 11-day whirlwind courtship, Marcos married Imelda, a beauty queen 12 years his junior, known as the “Muse of Manila.” This marked a turning point in his life.
Imelda was nicknamed the Iron Butterfly.
Marcos grew up in hardship because his father drained the family fortune for political bids. Imelda’s family struggled from simple poverty. Her father had no money at all. As a child, Imelda and her six siblings lived in a garage. She never got the chance to attend school. But she had one gift: extraordinary beauty.
In her youth, her looks perfectly matched the era’s ideal of beauty. Tall, standing over 170 centimeters at age 18, she was undeniably striking. Where other beauties were gifted by heaven, heaven practically spoon-fed her good looks.
In 1952, Imelda left for Manila with just five pesos. A chance magazine cover shoot rocketed her to fame, turning her into the beloved Muse of Manila and opening doors to elite social circles overnight. Among her many suitors, she picked the promising Marcos. Their quick wedding captivated the nation.
Imelda’s huge public popularity boosted Marcos’s political career enormously. In 1965, Marcos ran for president. Leveraging his war record and Imelda’s star power, he won the election and reached the peak of power.
Marcos started his presidency with meaningful reforms. He expanded education and pushed land reform, delivering tangible benefits to Filipino farmers. His supporters still praise him for these early achievements. In 1969, an international organization predicted the Philippines would become the world’s tenth-largest economy within 50 years.
But back then, the biggest celebrity in the country was not Marcos, but Imelda. She loved the spotlight, frequently appearing at diplomatic events. Sometimes she traveled abroad as a presidential envoy without Marcos. Life magazine dubbed her “Asia’s Jacqueline Kennedy.”
Her flair for glamour would have been harmless on its own. Imelda’s real fame came from her staggering extravagance. She once said her idea of setting an example was to set an example in luxury. She owned at least 5,000 dresses and changed outfits constantly, sometimes up to ten times in a single day.
Her jewelry collection held priceless pieces: a Cartier ruby necklace, a Cartier diamond tiara, a 30-carat Bulgari diamond bracelet. These high-value treasures were only a fraction of her stash. By rough count, her jewelry weighed more than 100 kilograms.
Still, jewelry was just the tip of the iceberg of her spending sprees. When she shopped in New York or Paris, stores would close to the public to serve only her. She once spent five million US dollars in a single night in New York, and dropped $2,000 on chewing gum in one trip at San Francisco Airport. While traveling in Rome, she once made a plane turn around mid-flight because she forgot her cheese. In Paris, she sometimes bought entire jewelry shops rather than picking individual pieces. If she liked a hotel, she bought the whole building. On a trip to Kenya, she admired giraffes on the savanna and bought some to ship to her private zoo back home in the Philippines.
At this point, readers may wonder: how did Imelda afford all of this?
After a few years of promising reforms, Marcos and Imelda turned to their real priority. Marcos once put it plainly: “I became president for three things: to steal money, steal money, and steal money.”
Even as a congressman, Marcos earned the nickname “Mr. Ten Percent.” Any project passing through his hands required a 10 percent kickback. Once president, he imposed this rule nationwide. Under his rule, every investment, business deal and government expenditure in the Philippines required a 10 percent cut for the president, no exceptions. Fair price, guaranteed service.
In 1972, Marcos declared martial law to extend his hold on power indefinitely. Embezzlement grew even more brazen. He siphoned off $500 million in Japanese war reparations owed to the Philippines, diverted more than a billion dollars in World Bank loans, and helped himself to national gold reserves and US military aid.
The cash flow became so massive that he set up dozens of banks locally and overseas to manage his tangled assets. Eventually, Marcos skimmed money directly from import tariffs. Every imported good, from baby cribs to coffins, fed his graft. The presidential palace even mandated a 1,500-peso “donation” to the palace for every can of sardines imported into the country.
Beyond mandatory kickbacks, Marcos customized laws for wealthy businessmen. “Tell me what legislation you need, and I will get Congress to pass it.” A streamlined, direct service. As a result, nearly every major Philippine enterprise sought ties with the presidential clan. The Marcos family became a mythic force in Philippine business.
Marcos’s mother ran shipping firms and lumber mills; his uncle owned gold and copper mines; his nephew controlled record labels and entertainment complexes; his sister oversaw tourism and freight; his brother served as president of over 20 corporations.
Imelda took the largest share of the wealth. Marcos appointed her Minister of Human Settlements, and she was later groomed as his successor. Imelda wielded immense power in the Philippines, and many believed she was the true hand behind the Marcos regime.
Why did Marcos defer so much to Imelda? Rumor says she controlled him with a clever trick. Marcos once had an affair with an American woman, and Imelda planted listening devices to record their conversations. Whenever they fought, Imelda would threaten: “Shall we play the recording?” To avoid public humiliation, Marcos always backed down.
Under the couple’s relentless plunder, the Philippine government turned into a large looting ring. At least 40 percent of all government spending was siphoned off by officials at every level. The economy steadily deteriorated. Worse, the Philippines missed its critical window for industrial transformation during the global shift of manufacturing, as officials fixated only on enrichment. This laid the groundwork for the country’s later collapse.
After two decades under Marcos, the Philippines went from having no foreign debt to owing $26.5 billion. Out of 55 million Filipinos, 70 percent fell into poverty. Thousands of young women were forced into sex work to survive. Meanwhile, government officials grew rich. Manila’s stark wealth gap today traces its roots directly to this era.
When Marcos finally fell, the public learned just how enormous the family’s stolen fortune really was.
1983 marked Marcos’s 18th year in power. Though he crushed opposition, one brave figure stood up for the people: Benigno Aquino Jr., of the powerful Aquino political clan and father of Benigno Aquino III.
Aquino lived in exile in the United States. In 1983, he chose to return and confront Marcos. Aquino commanded huge public respect, and Marcos feared him deeply. He tried threats and bribes, warning Aquino: “Come back to Manila, and I will have you killed.” Aquino refused to back down.
On August 21, 1983, Aquino flew back to Manila aboard a Boeing 767 from the US. One of the most famous moments in modern Philippine history unfolded on the tarmac.
The Philippine government deployed 5,000 soldiers to surround Manila International Airport. When the plane landed, three soldiers boarded the aircraft to escort Aquino out while other passengers were locked inside. As Aquino reached the 11th step of the air-stair, a shot rang out from behind. He collapsed in a pool of blood. Gunfire erupted across the tarmac, and a man in work clothes also fell dead.
The assassination of Benigno Aquino Jr. is one of the most famous events in modern Philippine history, comparable to the killing of Park Chung-hee in South Korea. Who pulled the trigger remains a historical puzzle. But to the public at the time, the culprit seemed obvious: Marcos.
Aquino’s death triggered a storm of public anger in the Philippines and abroad. Crowds clashed with police.
The next day, Marcos addressed the nation on television, denying any role in the killing. Later analysis suggests Marcos may have told the truth. While he had strong motive to eliminate Aquino, he was not foolish; he understood the catastrophic backlash such a murder would spark. When he first heard the news, he looked genuinely stunned and accurately predicted his fate: “Now every blame will fall on me.”
Historians point to Imelda and the CIA as parties with motive and capacity to harm Aquino. Imelda, in particular, had a bitter history with Aquino — he had once been her boyfriend.
But the identity of the killer no longer mattered. Aquino’s death ignited public fury. Two million Filipinos joined his funeral procession, walking more than 20 kilometers behind the hearse and refusing to leave. Manila’s Catholic archbishop celebrated his requiem mass and publicly condemned Marcos. The opposition surged, and Marcos’s grip over the military and state weakened sharply.
In 1986, Marcos was forced to hold a snap presidential election. Aquino was dead, but his widow took up his banner. Corazon Aquino had never held office before; she was merely a housewife. Still, she drew massive support riding on her husband’s legacy and her gentle public image.
Marcos, by contrast, campaigned across eight provinces in poor health but drew fewer than 100,000 people. Many attendees only came for free meals and appearance fees. These crowds could pad rallies, but they would flip their votes at the ballot box.
Marcos knew he had to cheat. On election day, February 7, he deployed every trick: ballot boxes seized, voter registers altered, voters intimidated. Election violence killed 31 people. In the end, local officials helped Marcos declare victory by a margin of 1.5 million votes.
The public saw this as blatant fraud. Corazon Aquino rejected the result. The Filipino people rejected it. The international community rejected it. Most importantly, the United States rejected it. After 20 years of Marcos’s rule, Washington would not defend a rigged election. The US president issued a public statement opposing Marcos’s regime.
With US disapproval, the opposition grew bolder. On February 22, 1986, senior military officers defected to support Corazon Aquino. Marcos was stunned and broadcast an appeal: “Turn back before it is too late.”
On February 23, armored units joined the rebellion. On the 24th, air force and army troops switched sides. Marcos made another televised plea for mutineers to return to duty, only for his broadcast feed to be cut mid-speech. The public message was clear: save yourself.
By the evening of the 24th, most of the government and military had defected. Even his presidential spokesperson publicly urged Marcos to resign. That afternoon, a White House spokesperson released a statement on behalf of President Reagan.
On February 25, Marcos was cornered. He sent a final plea to the US: could he remain as honorary president and share power? Could the US arrange his escape?
The Americans replied: “You cannot be honorary president. That is impossible. But we can arrange your departure.”
That afternoon, rebel forces fired a rocket at the presidential palace. Marcos decided to flee. At nine that night, four US military helicopters landed at Malacañang Palace. Marcos, Imelda and over 90 loyalists escaped to a US military base.
News of Marcos’s flight spread quickly. Citizens and soldiers stormed the palace. Imelda’s storage rooms shocked the nation. Her basement held 2,500 tops, 3,500 pairs of trousers, countless undergarments, 500 parasols, 65 pairs of gloves, 2,000 pairs of glasses, 71 handbags, 1,500 large suitcases, and more than 3,000 pairs of luxury shoes. The collection rivaled the inventory of a large department store. And this was only what Imelda left behind.
When the Marcos party reached Hawaii, US customs seized their 300 pieces of luggage. Their inventory included clothing filling 67 closets, $1.2 million worth of Philippine pesos, 413 pieces of jewelry, 24 gold bars, plus countless artworks, securities, deposit slips and land deeds. This still represented only a small fraction of their total wealth.
After taking office, Corazon Aquino immediately froze and began seizing the Marcos clan’s assets. The Presidential Commission on Good Government spent three grueling years mapping the scale of their fortune.
The Marcos family’s known assets included, in the Philippines: 4,500 acres of real estate, another 5,000 acres of land, farms, 23 corporations, 232 television stations, 18 radio stations, 36 private jets, 29 yachts and 13 vessels; $100 million in cash, tons of gold, and jewelry valued at $1 billion.
In the US: four office towers in Manhattan, villas in Beverly Hills and Hawaii, plus cash and jewelry worth $700 million. Swiss bank deposits totaled $1 billion; Australia held $500 million, Brazil $300 million. Additional properties and deposits sat in Hong Kong, Indonesia, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands and more.
No one can pin down the exact total of the Marcos fortune. Conservative estimates put it at no less than $10 billion, roughly equal to three years of the Philippine government’s total revenue. If Marcos earned that sum solely from his official presidential salary, he would have needed to start working in the Middle Paleolithic to save it up.
Marcos settled in Honolulu, Hawaii after exile. Frail in his later years, he begged repeatedly to return home, but successive Philippine governments refused to allow his repatriation. He died in Hawaii in 1989 at age 72.
The Marcos story might have ended there, but this is the Philippines. Political clans dominate national politics; purges may target individuals, yet family power survives.
Marcos died, but Imelda lived on, surviving to old age. She returned to the Philippines in 1990. Rather than lying low, she ran for president twice. Though corruption charges against her persisted, her political skill and massive wealth kept her out of prison. Well into her eighties, she campaigned publicly for her son.
Ironically, Imelda became known for philanthropy in her later life, generously funding hospitals and cultural centers for the poor. This won her and her son significant support among low-income Filipinos. Her son, Bongbong Marcos, rode that political capital back into the country’s highest circles. Future Philippine presidencies would feel his influence, and Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s public reputation has improved; he now enjoys respectable approval ratings among Filipinos.
You may wonder: are poor Filipinos foolish? Why would they support a family that once exploited them?
The answer is simple: ordinary Filipinos still endure crushing hardship, leaving little room to dwell on the past. Over 35 percent of Manila’s population lives in slums. Tens of thousands of poor residents rely on food scraps discarded by wealthy households. At city landfills, scavengers hunt not for recyclable metal or plastic, but restaurant food waste. They pick edible scraps out of garbage, clean them, and resell them to slum dwellers. This food is known as pagpag, the daily staple for many poor Manila residents.
The health risks are severe. Pagpag has fueled outbreaks of hepatitis and cholera, sometimes killing consumers outright. The government repeatedly warns people not to eat it, yet such appeals fall flat amid extreme poverty. No one would eat garbage scraps if they could afford proper food.
Manila ranks among the world’s most international cities. This globalized character, however, benefits only elites and foreign residents. Like Bangkok, wealthy outsiders and local magnates hoard most of the wealth. Both cities serve as hubs for intelligence exchange and underground sex industries. The glittering international veneer masks a population pushed to desperation, forced to sell their labor and bodies to serve the rich.
Marcos’s rising approval ratings also stem from weak governance by his successors. Leaders after Marcos, including Corazon Aquino and Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, tried reforming the system, yet faced immense barriers. No matter who sat in the presidential palace, local power remained in the hands of provincial elites. Corruption, poverty and crime remained the country’s persistent curses.
The Philippines needed a strong leader capable of sweeping reform to break this deadlock and rebuild the nation. Against all odds, such a figure emerged: Rodrigo Duterte.
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