WHEN geopolitics invades the classroom, education stops being a bridge between peoples and risks becoming another battlefield of suspicion and bigotry. When teachers, scholars and students are viewed primarily through a national security lens rather than on the basis of evidence, knowledge itself can become collateral damage.
Confucius offered an enduring reminder: “To know what you know and to know what you do not know — that is knowledge.”
Applied to the Philippines today, this Confucian wisdom is especially relevant amid the Marcos administration’s hostile, heightened scrutiny of Chinese citizens, institutions and China-related activities in the name of national security. Genuine security concerns deserve investigation, but wisdom and responsible statecraft require distinguishing what is established from what is merely suspected. Institutional connections may warrant scrutiny; they are not, by themselves, proof of espionage, subversion or disloyalty. When suspicion begins substituting for evidence, the danger is that national security ceases to protect the classroom and instead allows geopolitics to colonize it.
The classroom: New geopolitical frontline
Apparently, the Philippines has discovered a new frontline in the great geopolitical struggle of the 21st century. Not the South China Sea. Not Scarborough Shoal. Not Second Thomas Shoal. But the classroom. The strategic targets? Chinese schools in the Philippines and the teaching of the Mandarin language.
After months of increasingly securitized rhetoric about practically anything connected with China, Defense Secretary Gilberto “Gibo” Teodoro Jr. has now turned his attention to educational exchanges, scholarships, Chinese-language programs and academic partnerships. Perhaps his next national security operation will be to inspect dictionaries — especially Chinese-English and Filipino-Chinese editions. After all, if Mandarin itself is becoming suspicious, who knows what dangerous geopolitical secrets might be hiding between A and Z? How profoundly pathetic.
The controversy started after SeaLight director Ray Powell (a Central Intelligence Agency [CIA] operative in the Philippines) published an article alleging that Chinese institutions connected with the so-called Communist Party’s United Front have developed extensive relationships with Chinese-language schools and Filipino-Chinese organizations. Powell argues that teacher training, educational cooperation and cultural programs can function as channels through which Beijing promotes its narratives and political perspectives.
Conveniently for Powell, his narrative soon found a government official megaphone, a louder one at that, full of suspicion, no evidence or proof, but offered by the Philippine defense secretary himself. Gibo did not merely echo the bigot’s alarmist anti-China rhetoric; he amplified it, warning that educational exchanges could supposedly provide China a “foothold” and opportunities to gather information. And voilà — academic exchanges between the Philippines and China are suddenly recast as a national security suspect and vulnerability. What a ridiculous geopolitical hysteria masquerading as analysis or intelligence.
At this rate, one wonders whether the next great national security threat that Gibo and Powell will suspect will be a Confucius or Sun Tzu quotation written on a classroom blackboard. Goodness gracious!
Recalling Chinese teachers
But on a serious note, mind you, when insinuation travels from a CIA operative in the Philippines to the mouth of the defense secretary, speculation acquires the costume of official intelligence. Except there is a rather obvious problem: Once Gibo repeatedly places teachers, scholars, academic exchanges and cultural organizations inside a national security frame, there may be consequences.
On Oct. 1, the Immaculate Conception Academy informed parents that the FFCCCII (Federation of Filipino Chinese Chambers of Commerce and Industry Inc.) had advised it that its Chinese teachers needed to return to China immediately. Jubilee Christian Academy separately announced that its Chinese volunteer teachers had been unexpectedly recalled by their sending organization. Both schools began scrambling for substitute teachers, online instruction and other arrangements.
On Oct. 2, it was reported that something potentially much larger had happened: FFCCCII and other relevant Philippines-Chinese educational institutions, in consultation and coordination with the Chinese Embassy in Manila, had decided to withdraw Chinese volunteers and dispatched teachers from Chinese schools nationwide. Reports indicate roughly 150 teachers were leaving, and the decision was attributed to safety concerns raised by teachers’ families following the attacks and allegations surrounding Chinese-language education, citing articles by Powell in Sealight about Chinese-language schools and recent statements by Gibo. It was further reported that the decision came from the inviting organizations, not an expulsion by Manila or an order from Beijing. Just as a caveat, these reports still require independent confirmation from the organizations concerned.
Collateral damage
Seriously speaking, this turn of events is deeply counterproductive. The collateral damage from indiscriminate suspicion and insinuation coming from the defense secretary himself could be considerable: fewer scholarships, visiting professors, language teachers, academic conferences, research collaborations, scientific partnerships, and professional exchanges between the Philippines and China. Worse, it creates a chilling effect where Filipino academics begin wondering whether studying China, speaking Mandarin, collaborating with Chinese universities or attending conferences there will make their patriotism and nationalism suspect.
There is nothing objectionable about examining foreign-funded programs. But there is an important line between investigating specific evidence and treating association with China or anything Chinese as suspicion or evidence of wrongdoing, influence operations or espionage.
A Mandarin teacher is not automatically an influence operative. A Filipino scholar attending a Chinese university or attending conferences held in China is not therefore an agent of Beijing. A Philippine university or school partnership with China does not by itself constitute espionage. National security deserves vigilance, but accusations require evidence/proof. There is an enormous logical distance between “foreign influence exists” and “educational engagement with China is presumptively suspicious.” That distinction seems increasingly blurred by people like Powell and Gibo. And this is where national security discourse becomes intellectually lazy and dishonest. Connections are not crimes, associations are not evidence of espionage, and studying another civilization is not disloyalty to one’s country. National security requires evidence, not suspicion; vigilance, not paranoia and Sinophobia; and sound intelligence, not guilt by association.
Take note: Department of Education-National Capital Region (DepEd-NCR) records show that Chinese-language instruction is not some mysterious underground operation discovered yesterday by counterintelligence sleuths. The government itself has maintained a Special Program in Foreign Language-Chinese, including teacher training and mentoring. DepEd documentation explains that Chinese volunteer teachers have served as trainers for prospective Filipino Mandarin teachers and that the training structure included Philippine instruction and immersion programs in China.
Conclusion
The Philippines absolutely should protect itself against espionage, covert foreign interference or influence and disinformation from any country. But national security cannot become a magic phrase that transforms speculation into evidence and classrooms into counterintelligence theaters.
The Philippines should stop allowing an entire universe of legitimate educational exchanges with China to exist beneath a cloud of insinuation and suspicion. Because when geopolitical suspicion reaches the classroom, everyone eventually loses. The Philippines loses language expertise, scholarships, research partnerships and access to one of the world’s largest academic systems: China.
Countries may disagree over geopolitics. But education should remain a bridge, not become another casualty of it.
Perhaps Confucius offers the lesson our defense establishment most needs: Wisdom begins by knowing the difference between what you know and what you merely suspect. In national security, confusing the two does not make a country safer; it can simply make ignorance an official government policy.