Why There's Real Power Behind Vice Ganda's Speech in EDSA

(SPOT.ph) It seems Jose Maria Borja Viceral was always meant for this moment.

It’s very easy to discount Viceral (his surname alone is an almost perfect homonym for “visceral,” an adjective for anything that punches close to the gut), aka the comedian more popularly known as Vice Ganda. After all, he’s just a noontime show host whose living is to make people laugh. But if you know anything about his background, you would do well not to write him off so easily.

Vice grew up in the hardscrabble streets of Santa Cruz, Manila, the son of a murdered barangay captain and an OFW mother. He stayed for two years of college at the Far Eastern University, but left to pursue his dreams of being a standup comedian. What course did he leave? Political science.

A stratospheric rise to stardom may dissuade other celebrities from being political for fear of tarnishing their four-quadrant approval, but Vice has always been unafraid of using the platform his fame has given him to comment on current events. Perhaps it’s because his very existence incites political debate: Identifying as non-binary in a country that merely tolerates homosexuality and knows next to nothing of other sexualities on the spectrum, Vice is an outspoken advocate for LGBTQ+ causes.

The philosophy behind his sarcasm seems to be “I piss them off anyway, might as well go all the way.” He’s gotten into scrapes with the late and lamented Nora Aunor (who backed out of a judging slot at the last minute for the Tawag ng Tanghalan segment of It’s Showtime! in 2017 because she deemed his brand of insult comedy to be against her moral beliefs), the Kingdom of Jesus Christ founder Apollo Quiboloy (for poking fun at his assertion that he stopped the swarm of earthquakes that plagued Cotabato in 2019), and the legion of ex-President Rodrigo Duterte’s supporters (for his “jet ski holiday” gag alongside Regine Velasquez at the Superdivas concert last August).

And so, when Vice Ganda marched up the stage in front of the People Power Monument along EDSA last Sunday—the 53rd anniversary of Martial Law—to address the thousands of protesters who had come to participate in the Trillion Peso March against the contractors, government employees and politicians who are alleged to have pocketed trillions of pesos’ worth of kickbacks from unfulfilled flood control projects, observers were expecting an entertaining, irreverent speech. What they got instead was an expletive-laden masterclass in firebrand proselytizing.

“What’s down? Ang down, ang babang-baba—‘yung mga Pilipino,” he began. “At sa lahat naman ng mga pulitiko at bahagi na ng gobyerno na nagnakaw sa atin, nagnanakaw sa atin, mga nakatingin habang may nagnanakaw sa atin, mga kasama ng mga nagnanakaw sa atin, mga may alam na nagnanakaw pero hindi nagsasalita, mga kasama ng mga nagnanakaw, mga nagtatago ng magnanakaw, isa lang ang gusto naming sabihin sa inyong lahat.” Turning to the officiating priest of the just-finished Mass, he offered his repentance in advance: “Patawad kay Father, pero p**ang ina n’yo!” And to lusty cheers from the crowd: “Kap**a-p**ahan ng mga p**ang ina n’yo!”

If there has to be a brand ambassador for citizen outrage in the face of corruption, you won’t find anyone more credible at this moment than Vice. This past March, he was recognized as the top celebrity taxpayer of 2024 by the Bureau of Internal Revenue, his second consecutive year to snag the recognition. “Tama pong magbayad ng buwis,” he said during the awarding ceremony. “Obligado tayong magbayad ng buwis. Dapat nating gawin ‘yun. At pagkatapos nating magbayad ng buwis, karapatan din nating obligahin ang hahawak ng buwis na binabayaran natin. Hindi madali kung paano natin kinita ang ipambabayad natin ng buwis… tayo ay may karapatang magtanong saan ang binabayaran nating buwis.”

After leading the crowd in a chant of expletives, Vice skewered not just one, but two cherished Filipino traditions—the beloved melodramatic figure of the long-suffering heroine, and the much-vaunted Filipino virtue of resiliency: “Tapos na ang panahon ng mga mababait at ng mga resilient! Ang mga mababait...ginago! Ang mga resilient...tinarantado! Hindi na uubra sa atin ‘yung bait-baitan, kimi-kimian, tahimik-tahimikan. Patawad, pero hindi po. Hindi ko babaitan ang mensahe ko ngayon dahil hindi naman sila mababait. Sa katunayan, mga hayop sila! So bakit natin babaitan ang mensahe natin? Hindi natin kakalmahan ang mga salita at kilos natin dahil deserve nila ang galit, ang pikon, at poot ng mga nanakawang Pilipino. Hindi tayo puwedeng kumalma. Hindi puwedeng iiyak lang. Hindi puwedeng magtitiis lang.”

And then he made an impassioned plea for long-term vigilance, admittedly a tall order in a news cycle that turns on the truncated attention spans of social media consumers: “Kaya tama ‘yan! Sumigaw lahat ng galit! Lahat ng galit na galit! Ang hindi matatapos ang galit bukas! Ang iparirinig ang galit hanggang hindi makulong ang mga p**ang inang magnanakaw! Hindi tayo puwedeng magalit lang ngayon, kailangan hanggang bukas, kailangan sa susunod na lingo, kailangan sa susunod na buwan, hanggang umabot nang ilang taon hangga’t hindi sila nauubos. Walang mawawala sa atin dahil ubos na tayo. Kaya ang gagawin natin ngayon ay babawi na tayo. Ikulong ang mga magnanakaw.”

At this point, Vice’s speech takes on shades of the French Revolution: “Para sa akin, hindi nga sapat ang kulong eh. Dapat patayin ang mga korap na magnanakaw! Ibalik ang death penalty para sa mga korap! Para patayin ang mga magnanakaw, ikulong pati pamilya nila! Dapat gumawa ng batas ang pamahalaan para ibalik ang death penalty!”

And this is the part of the speech where Vice’s two years of political science education comes to the forefront: “Ibalik ang death penalty para sa magnanakaw dahil ang magnanakaw...ang korap na pulitiko ay higit pa sa mamamatay-tao. Ang corrupt na politician ay higit pa sa magnanakaw. Ang korap na politican—ang korapsyon—ay higit pa sa terorismo! Ang mga terorista, namimili lamang ng lugar at panahon kung kailan aatake. Pero ang mga magnanakaw sa Pilipinas walang pinipiling araw. Araw-araw nila tayong ninanakawan. At ang inaatake ng mga terorista ‘yung mga iba ang pananampalataya, iba ang paniniwala, iba ang lahi. Pero ang mga korap, kapwa Pilipinong kalahi ang ninanakawan.”

It takes an astute political mind to parse the nuances of corruption and terrorism. If there’s anything I will fault Vice’s parallels here, it’s that he didn’t go far enough. Terrorism is a momentary burst of violence meant to make a political statement; corruption is a banal evil whose damage lasts generations and—as floods in a disaster-prone country like the Philippines shows—costs countless lives.

And then he delivers the coup de grace, aimed straight at Malacañang with a voice dripping with contempt: “Kaya hinahamon ka namin, Pangulong Bongbong Marcos. Kung gusto mong magkaroon ng magandang legasiya ang pangalan mo...ipakulong mo lahat ng magnanakaw. Nakatingin kami sa iyo, Pangulong Bongbong Marcos, at inaasahan ka namin. Hindi dahil idol ka namin, kung hindi dahil sinuswelduhan ka namin at inaasahan namin na tutuparin mo ang inuutos naming mga employer mo.”

A final parting shot, courtesy of V for Vendetta by Alan Moore: “Tapos na ang panahon na natatakot tayo sa gobyerno. Takutin natin ang gobyerno dahil ang kapangyariha’y nasa sa atin at wala sa kanila. Nakatingin kami sa inyo. Ipakulong lahat, lahat ipakulong. Bawiin ang mga ari-arian. Bawiin ang mga ari-arian, pati ang atay i-donate! Ibigay ang atay! Pati ang mata, i-donate, walang ititira! Kasi nga hindi tayo puwedeng maawa dahil mga p**ang ina nila!”

It seems Vice is not done being political. On the Monday after the Trillion Peso March, he awarded a teary-eyed contestant hundreds of thousands of pesos in a game show segment in It’s Showtime! for getting the answer right to the question of who heads the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee investigating these anomalous flood control projects. (Answer: Ping Lacson.) It’s an astute blend of entertainment and civics lesson that I’m certain had everything to do with the host.

It's fearlessness like this that makes people take notice. During a sit-down with fellow director Antoinette Jadaone on her “Ang Walang Kuwentang Podcast”, internationally acclaimed auteur Lav Diaz said, “Napaka-bleak ng future kapag hindi natin nawasak ang Sara Duterte wall which is coming. The nightmare is coming. So, it’s only two years away. We have to act. Sino ba ang pinaka-icon sa Philippine pop culture ngayon? Si Vice Ganda.”

It's more likely that what makes Vice Ganda such an authentic spokesperson for a nation exhausted and disillusioned with corrupt leadership will be watered down by the Byzantine maze of bureaucracy and the tap dance of politicking. But what we can take from Vice’s example is an embrace of righteous indignation: We’re fed up, we’re angry as hell, and we’re not going to take it anymore!