‘This year’s Shangri-La Dialogue was a diplomatic litmus test for the Philippines. And we passed, not because we were loud, but because we were clear. We did not ask for a fight.’
JAMES Hilton’s fictional Shangri-La was a mountaintop sanctuary, serene, timeless, and removed from the world’s turmoil. Ironically, its namesake in the real world, the Shangri-La Dialogue held annually in Singapore since 2002, is anything but detached. Instead, it is a frontline of diplomacy, where nations grapple with the chaos of the present to preserve a fragile peace in the Indo-Pacific. And yet, the echo of Hilton’s utopia lingers: this too is a space where peace is imagined, negotiated, and defended.
This year’s edition was particularly momentous for the Philippines, not just for our presence, but for our poise and principle, all unfolding at a time when we are also actively campaigning for a seat at the UN Security Council.
In 2024, President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. made history by opening the 21st Shangri-La Dialogue, marking the first time a Philippine president had done so. But it was more than ceremonial. His keynote address was a foreign policy landmark, where he declared the Philippines’ full commitment to a rules-based international order, especially in the context of the South China Sea.
Without naming names, he pointed to “illegal and coercive actions” clearly referencing Chinese activities in Philippine waters and elevated the nation’s legal victories under UNCLOS and the 2016 arbitral ruling. More importantly, he issued a moral call: for middle powers like the Philippines to take active roles in defending peace, not by force, but by upholding international law.
This moment marked the Philippines’ transformation from a reactive player to a principled actor not unlike our stance in the United Nations, where our UNSC bid champions peacekeeping, multilateral cooperation, and lawful order. In both arenas, our message is clear: we bring the moral voice of a small but serious nation.
In 2025, that moral voice was carried further by Defense Secretary Gilbert Teodoro Jr., who led the Philippine delegation to the 22nd Shangri-La Dialogue. A seasoned statesman and strategist, Secretary Teodoro’s return to the defense portfolio added depth to our position. During bilateral meetings with Singapore and Australia, he reinforced the Philippines’ readiness for deeper cooperation not just in military hardware, but in shared principles.
More notably, in a plenary session marked by sharp words, he directly responded to Chinese criticism of the Philippines’ defense posture and alliance with the United States. Secretary Teodoro, calm and unflinching, pointed to the “deficit of trust and credibility” in China’s conduct, emphasizing that the Philippines’ actions are anchored not in provocation but in law, transparency, and sovereignty. His diplomacy was sharp yet dignified, anchored in credibility, not volume. And while the Dialogue did not yield dramatic breakthroughs, it left the Philippines with something far more valuable: recognition as a consistent, coherent, and confident voice in a region where consistency is rare.
This year’s Shangri-La Dialogue was a diplomatic litmus test for the Philippines. And we passed, not because we were loud, but because we were clear. We did not ask for a fight. But neither did we shrink from one. We chose clarity over confusion, cooperation over compliance, and law over brute power.
For a nation sitting in contested waters, the ability to speak not only in the language of hardware and alliances but in the moral vocabulary of sovereignty, responsibility, and peace is perhaps our greatest asset. What the Philippine delegation projected in Singapore wasn’t defiance: it was dignity.
The world noticed.
And maybe that’s the point: The Philippines is no longer content to be a spectator. It’s ready to shape the game.
