A Frankenstein or a Fortress?

Iloilo City is on the verge of a transparency breakthrough, but the path forward is paved with good intentions that could easily lead to a bureaucratic dead end. With two Freedom of Information (FOI) ordinances now pending in the City Council, Committee on Communication and Public Information chairperson, Councilor Sedfrey Cabaluna assures the public that reconciliation is moving in the “right direction.” However, a polite political compromise is not the same as effective legislation.

As the committee tackles the seven unresolved provisions between the proposals of Councilors Sheen Marie Mabilog and Jose Maria Dela Llana, they face a critical risk: creating a “Frankenstein” ordinance. If the Council merely stitches together the politically convenient parts of both drafts – stripping Mabilog’s funding mandates to save money while adopting Dela Llana’s longer list of exemptions to save face – they will birth a law that looks like transparency but acts like a wall.

The most glaring divergence lies in the medium of access. Mabilog’s version explicitly allocates funding for a “digital FOI portal,” while Dela Llana’s version is vague, relegating funding to “appropriate offices.” In 2025, a transparency law without a guaranteed digital infrastructure is obsolete upon arrival.

We cannot return to the era of the paper chase, where citizens must physically navigate City Hall to retrieve documents. This benefits gatekeepers, not the public. Research from the World Bank indicates that digitizing government services can reduce corruption susceptibility by limiting direct discretion and physical interaction. If the final ordinance drops the digital portal to save the city a few hundred thousand pesos, it will cost the public significantly more in lost accountability. The Council must adopt Mabilog’s hard funding mandate. Transparency is not free; it requires investment.

Conversely, the debate on exemptions reveals a troubling reliance on secrecy. Dela Llana’s draft lists 13 categories of exemptions, nearly double Mabilog’s seven. While national security and personal privacy are standard, a bloated list of exemptions risks codifying the “weaponization of executive privilege.”

We have seen this play out on the national stage. The restriction of access to Statements of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALNs) by the Office of the Ombudsman has severely hampered the ability of journalists and watchdogs to track illicit wealth. If Iloilo City adopts a broad 13-point exemption list, it mirrors this regression. The committee must harmonize these lists by adopting a principle of “Maximum Disclosure,” keeping the exemptions list as narrow as legally possible.

Perhaps the most contentious unresolved issue is “anonymous requests.” This is the make-or-break provision for whistleblowers who fear retaliation. A blanket ban on anonymity chills speech; a blanket allowance invites nuisance.

The solution is not to choose one or the other, but to adopt a “Public Interest Test,” a standard used in advanced FOI regimes globally. The rule should be simple: If the information requested is of clear public interest (e.g., procurement contracts, budget utilization, or decision-making documents), the identity of the requestor is irrelevant. The document speaks for itself. Identification should only be strictly required when the request involves sensitive personal data of private individuals.

Councilor Cabaluna and his committee are accountable not just to their colleagues, but to the future of Iloilo’s governance. They must not aim for a law that simply appeases both authors. They must aim for a functional tool.

A robust FOI ordinance for Iloilo must combine the “teeth” of Dela Llana’s procedural clarity with the “wallet” of Mabilog’s digital funding. It must reject the expansion of exemptions and protect the anonymity of those exposing public rot. Anything less is just performative legislation – a paper tiger that roars but cannot bite.