August 21st, 2025
When we speak of Ninoy Aquino, we often remember the tarmac in 1983. But if we reduce him to his death alone, we miss the deeper transformation that made his life so meaningful.
As a young politician, Ninoy was the model of brilliance and ambition. He was the youngest mayor, the youngest governor, and the youngest senator of his time. Many thought he was destined to be president. His speeches dazzled, his political skills were unmatched, and he played the game with intensity.
But imprisonment in Laur changed him. Those years stripped away the trappings of ambition and forced a reckoning. In his own words, he emerged a Christian socialist. He no longer spoke of politics as a ladder of power but as a vocation of justice. He began to write and reflect on the deeper historical and social inequities that bound our people to poverty regardless of who was in power. He realized that changing leaders was not enough. What was needed was to confront the structures that kept Filipinos poor, voiceless, and excluded.
That transformation gave him a new kind of courage. I remember very vividly the interview he gave in Taipei on his way home from exile. He told the journalists that they had to be very quick, because anything could happen to him within minutes of landing in Manila. To face life and death with such equanimity is only possible when one is animated by greater and nobler objectives, chief among which is the building of a nation.
I trace some lineage of service with Ninoy through my own mentor, Raul Roco. Roco, whom I served as Chief of Staff, had once been Chief of Staff to Ninoy. From them I learned a conviction that both carried into their work: that law is an instrument of social transformation towards justice. Ninoy authored the Study Now, Pay Later program because he believed every young Filipino deserved the chance to learn regardless of means. That vision, that law can expand opportunity and restore hope, continues to inspire all who play a role in the shaping of national policy.
So when I think of Ninoy, I do not think only of the man who died for democracy. I think of the man who changed, who turned from ambition to authentic humanism, who discovered that leadership is measured not by power but by service. That is the Ninoy we need now.
He once said, “The Filipino is worth dying for.” But his life reminds us of an even deeper truth: the Filipino is worth living for, worth working for, worth serving with honesty, humility, and hope.