The past in the present: Poverty behind the ceremonial route

The 48th ASEAN Summit in Mactan, Cebu, which happened in May 2026, once again highlighted the long-standing practice of hiding poverty during visits by foreign dignitaries. As delegates gathered at the Mactan Expo, 66 families living behind the venue were temporarily relocated to a resort in nearby Cordova as part of a “security perimeter.” Unlike the walls and barriers used in the past, the government adopted a more polished approach, covering accommodations, meals, transportation, livelihood seminars, and cash assistance for the affected residents. The relocated families reportedly stayed in rooms costing between ?1,600 and ?5,500 per night, while also receiving ?2,000 in financial assistance.

While many families expressed gratitude for the rare “resort experience”, the relocation did little to address deeper problems such as poverty and informal settlements. Its real purpose was simply to remove communities deemed visually undesirable during an international gathering, turning the old practice of hiding poverty behind walls into a more polished “resort-style” form of concealment.

This, however, is hardly new. This relocation follows a long pattern of managing appearances for visiting guests, often compared to “Potemkin villages”, or something made to hide the truth and make a situation appear better than it really is. During the 2015 Papal Visit and APEC Summit under President Benigno Aquino III, homeless families in Manila were moved away from public areas to protect the capital’s image. Earlier administrations used even more visible methods. Under Marcos Sr., especially during the 1970s and early 1980s, whitewashed walls lined ceremonial routes during events like the Miss Universe 1974 and the 1981 Papal Visit to the Philippines. As discussed in Gerard Lico’s “Edifice Complex”, these formed part of the broader “City of Man” campaign meant to project modernity while concealing what officials considered “aesthetic pollution.”

Earlier, President Diosdado Macapagal ordered the relocation of families from Intramuros to Sapang Palay in 1963 as part of efforts to restore the old walled city. The same pattern continued in later decades. The 1996 APEC Summit under President Fidel V. Ramos saw the clearing of vendors and informal settlers, while the 2007 ASEAN Summit during President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo became associated with blue fences and barriers around summit areas. Different administrations used different methods, but the principle remained the same: poverty was treated less as a social problem needing long-term solutions and more as an image problem to be concealed during major international events.

These actions reveal a continuing anxiety and even obsession over national image and foreign perception. In “Cracks in the Parchment Curtain”, William Henry Scott observed how colonial systems encouraged elites to view ordinary people with separation and “otherness.” That mindset remains visible today. The language may now stress “security” instead of “beautification”, but the aim is much the same: controlling what visitors see. Ironically, large sums are spent on temporary relocations lasting only days, funds that could instead go toward permanent housing and lasting solutions to poverty.

There is also a profound historical contradiction in all of this. The very communities now being hidden occupy areas deeply tied to the country’s earliest history. The shores of Mactan, where informal settlers are now considered “security risks,” are the same shores associated with Lapulapu and the earliest resistance against foreign intrusion. The districts around Manila Bay and Tondo, now linked to urban poverty, were once connected to Lakandula and the native principalia who controlled trade and political life before colonial rule fully took hold. Over centuries, colonial and post-colonial systems gradually displaced many descendants of these earlier communities, pushing them toward the margins of society.

In the end, the repeated effort to conceal poverty during international events reflects more than concerns over security or urban planning. It reflects a continuing discomfort with letting the country’s poorest citizens remain visible during events meant to present the Philippines to the world. The descendants of people once central to the nation’s history are too often treated as eyesores to be hidden behind walls, fences, or temporary relocations whenever the country hosts important international gatherings.