Third and Final Instalment
Memory, Transformation, and the Work Ahead
If the first instalment of this series challenges simplified narratives of EDSA, and the second instalment traces the uneven and contested trajectories that followed, then the question that remains is not whether EDSA succeeded or failed, but how it should be situated within a longer process of transformation—one that remains unfinished.
To see EDSA only as a triumph is to overlook its limits. To see it only as a failure is to ignore what it made possible. A more grounded view is to recognise it as a milestone: a decisive moment that altered the political landscape, but did not ensure a transformative direction of what would come next.
What EDSA restored was political space—the possibility of contestation, participation, and institutional rebuilding. What it did not resolve were the deeper structures that shape inequality, exclusion, and the concentration of power. These were carried forward into the post-EDSA period, where they interacted with shifting domestic and global conditions in ways that produced both gains and contradictions.
The decades that followed revealed both the potential and the limits of liberal democratic governance. Institutions were rebuilt, elections were held, and periods of economic growth were achieved. Yet these advances did not consistently translate into structural transformation. Inequality persisted, public services remained uneven, and accountability mechanisms were often constrained by entrenched interests. Over time, this gap between institutional form and lived experience contributed to erosion of trust.
It is within this context that the appeal of populist politics can be more clearly understood. As discussed earlier, populism did not emerge in isolation; it drew from accumulated frustrations, unanswered questions, and a growing sense of betrayal (real and imagined). At the same time, it reshaped those grievances into simplified narratives and immediate promises that often bypassed institutional safeguards. The result was not a resolution of underlying issues, but a reconfiguration of how they were expressed and acted upon, and in most occasions, the further entrenchment of those exact same issues.
This dynamic was further intensified by changes in the broader information environment. The increasing role of digital platforms in shaping public discourse has altered how history is remembered and contested. Narratives about both the EDSA People Power Revolution and the Marcos dictatorship have been reframed, circulated, and, at times, distorted in ways that blur the line between historical record and political messaging. Memory itself has become part of the terrain of political struggle.
At the same time, the conditions within which the Philippines operates have changed significantly. The global environment is more complex and more volatile than it was in 1986. The rise of China as a major economic and geopolitical actor, tensions in the West Philippine Sea, and the broader reconfiguration of global power have introduced new pressures that intersect with domestic governance challenges.
Perhaps more fundamentally, the nature of the challenges themselves has evolved. Climate change is no longer a distant concern but an immediate and intensifying reality, affecting livelihoods, ecosystems, and economic stability. Persistent poverty and inequality remain, but are now compounded by new forms of vulnerability. At the same time, democratic systems around the world—including liberal democracies—are under strain, facing questions about their capacity to respond effectively to complex, fast-moving crises.
Taken together, these developments suggest that the task ahead is not simply to defend or reject the legacy of EDSA, but to build on it with a clearer understanding of both its possibilities and its limits.
This requires, first, a more honest reckoning with the past. Recognising EDSA as a milestone allows for a more balanced assessment—one that acknowledges its role in restoring democratic space, while also examining why deeper transformation proved more difficult to achieve. It also requires confronting the ways in which political narratives have been simplified, polarised, or instrumentalised over time.
Second, it calls for renewed attention to the question of collective agency. The fragmentation of progressive forces, as noted earlier, limited the capacity to sustain pressure for structural reform. Moving forward will depend not on the reassertion of singular leadership, but on the ability to build broader, more inclusive coalitions that can engage both institutions and communities. This is less about ideological uniformity than about shared commitments to equity, accountability, and inclusion.
Third, it requires rethinking the relationship between national and global challenges. Issues such as climate change, economic inequality, and geopolitical tension operate beyond national boundaries. Responses to these challenges will need to be similarly interconnected, combining domestic reform with regional and global engagement. The Philippines’ experience is part of a wider set of transitions affecting many societies, each grappling with similar tensions between growth, equity, governance, and sustainability.
More fundamentally, it raises a question about the direction of political development itself. If the past four decades have shown the limits of both technocratic reform and populist reaction, then the work ahead may lie in finding ways to move beyond this binary—toward approaches that are both structurally grounded and responsive to lived realities.
At a time when the world appears increasingly fragmented—marked by rising authoritarian tendencies, deepening geopolitical competition, and uneven responses to global crises—the need for collective action becomes more urgent. The challenges facing the Philippines are not isolated; they are part of a broader set of existential risks that require cooperation across societies and across borders.
The unfinished nature of EDSA is not only a national condition, but part of a wider global process. The struggle to build more just, inclusive, and resilient systems is ongoing, and its outcomes remain uncertain.
EDSA did not complete that work. It created the conditions in which it could continue. What remains is the question of how those conditions are used—how political space is engaged, how institutions are strengthened or reshaped, and how collective action is mobilised in response to evolving challenges.
Forty years on, the task is not to return to EDSA as a moment, but to carry forward what it has taught us—more consciously, more critically, and with a clearer sense of what transformation requires.
