As President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. prepares to deliver his fourth State of the Nation Address (SONA) on July 28, one decision is already casting a long shadow over his legislative legacy: the veto of the proposed amendment to Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP) Charter, a bill that would have transformed the country’s largest state university into a National Polytechnic University (NPU).
The Palace, through the Presidential Communications Office (PCO), explained that the veto was based on several concerns. Chief among them: PUP’s “low performance” in the 2016 State Universities and Colleges (SUC) leveling exercise conducted by the Department of Budget and Management (DBM) and the Commission on Higher Education (CHED). PUP received only a Level II rating, compared to other SUCs that achieved Level III or IV. The Palace also cited that former President Benigno Aquino III had suggested a reassessment of PUP’s suitability for national university status, an assessment that, to date, has not been completed.
In addition, the Palace raised issues such as the creation of 14 PUP campuses through Board of Regents resolutions rather than acts of Congress, leading to expectations for increased national government support. Finally, the administration expressed concern that granting institutional autonomy might “weaken CHED’s regulatory oversight” over SUCs.
On the surface, these reasons may seem rational, even responsible. But taken in context, the veto reveals a troubling pattern of bureaucratic rigidity, institutional distrust, and political tone-deafness, especially for an administration that claims to champion education, inclusion, and reform.
First, it undermines the principle of differentiated development. Not all institutions are the same. PUP’s size, reach, and social mission merit a governance structure that is agile and responsive. If we expect a university to serve more than a hundred thousand students with quality and relevance, we must give it tools that match the scale of its responsibility.
Second, it weakens the administration’s youth engagement narrative. Young people are watching. Many of them are PUP students and alumni who understand the daily challenges of crumbling facilities, limited resources, and overburdened faculty. The veto not only erodes hope. It fuels resentment. And in a country with a young demographic majority, alienating the youth is a political liability.
Third, it reveals a persistent discomfort with institutional independence. This is not the first time the administration has pushed back against frameworks that grant autonomy to state-funded institutions. But universities are not agencies. They are meant to be bastions of critical thinking and public service, not bureaucratic appendages awaiting national memos for relevance.
And finally, the veto reopens the historical wound of Marcos-era education policy, which many critics argue prioritized control over empowerment. Whether intentional or not, the optics of vetoing PUP’s charter, an institution known for its activist tradition and resistance roots—revives the ghosts of the past.
Let us not forget: PUP is not just any state university. It is the largest in the country, a sanctuary for students from working-class and low-income families, and a symbol of academic aspiration for the masses. To dismiss its charter based on a nine-year-old performance rating is not only shortsighted. It is simply unjust. If PUP’s status was last evaluated in 2016, who is responsible for the failure to reassess it since then? Certainly not PUP alone.
Moreover, the Palace’s critique of campus expansion via Board resolutions reeks of selective scrutiny. Many state universities, faced with growing demand and limited legislative action, have done the same out of necessity. Penalizing PUP for attempting to serve more students, without the benefit of legislative formalization, misses the point. The issue is not about procedural orthodoxy; it’s about meeting educational demand in a country with a youth bulge and limited state support.
The claim that granting institutional autonomy may undermine CHED oversight is also a slippery slope argument. The University of the Philippines (UP) and Mindanao State University (MSU) enjoy special charters and considerable autonomy, yet they remain accountable to CHED, COA, and Congress. Autonomy is not immunity. It is a mechanism that enables agility, innovation, and mission-driven governance, particularly critical for institutions serving underserved populations.
And then there’s the Palace’s statement that PUP “must first demonstrate exceptional quality in faculty, programs, and academic standards.” This is a valid ideal, but one that overlooks reality. You cannot demand excellence without equipping institutions to achieve it. PUP has operated under decades of resource limitations, overcrowded classrooms, underpaid faculty, and crumbling infrastructure. Yet it continues to produce high-performing graduates, board topnotchers, and civic-minded leaders. Instead of withholding a charter as a reward for perfection, the government should enable structural reform as a pathway toward excellence.
The veto sends a chilling signal to public education advocates: that scale, social mission, and legacy mean little without an updated metric or paper trail. It suggests that institutions that cater to the poor must first reach elite standards without elite resources before being deemed worthy of structural reform.
And finally, the optics cannot be ignored. A President bearing the Marcos name has just vetoed the modernization of a university known for its tradition of activism, dissent, and resistance against authoritarianism. Whether intentional or not, this decision reopens the wounds of history and reinforces perceptions that this administration prefers obedient institutions over empowered ones.
The President missed an opportunity to uplift the Filipino working class by equipping its most iconic university with a 21st-century charter. What could have been a shining moment of reform and progress has instead become a case study in misplaced priorities.
It is not too late to reverse course. Congress can revisit the bill. CHED and DBM can accelerate the reassessment process. The Palace can clarify its education priorities with more depth and less defensiveness.
But the greater responsibility lies with us. We must continue to ask: What kind of education system do we want? One that waits for perfection before acting, or one that acts in pursuit of it? The students of PUP, and the future they represent, deserve better than a veto built on delay, doubt, and deference to bureaucracy.
In vetoing the PUP Charter, the administration has vetoed more than a policy. It has vetoed hope, urgency, and the chance to reimagine what public education can become.