By: Tita C. ValderamaFacebook photoOn April 12, a 53-year-old construction worker named Jhony Lanquino was trying to beat the 38-degree heat by shedding his tee-shirt while mixing cement outside his home in Mandaluyong City in the Manila national capital region when he was surrounded by barangay officials and police officers including SWAT members trained for high-risk operations.Lanquino was fined ₱500 (US8.33) for violating a local ordinance on public decency by being shirtless, although two days later, Interior Secretary Jonvic Remulla descended on Lanquino at home and personally apologized, returning the ₱500 fine amid public outcry and acknowledging lapses in the initial implementation of his “Safer Metro Manila Plan,” also called the “Safer Cities” initiative.Jhony and Jovic. Photo from Manila BulletinJonvic, suspected of being the Marcos camp’s candidate to take on Sara Duterte in the 2028 presidential sweepstakes, rolled out the plan on April 6 with the fanfare of a national event to take on one of the world’s most chaotic, polluted, traffic-choked, slum-ridden cities, which for decades has cheerfully resisted all attempts to redeem or reform it.While designed to instill discipline, Remulla’s drive has faced criticism for allegedly targeting poor individuals, leading to calls for better police discretion, compassion and refinement in its implementation. Over 72,000 individuals were flagged in Metro Manila alone within the first 10 days, with a daily average of 6,000–7,000 apprehensions.If there is a certain nostalgia, a balik-tanaw spreading in Metro Manila, something people here have seen before, it is justified. Manila saw it under Imelda Marcos, then first lady, governor of Metro Manila and minister for human settlements and mother of the current President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. She was nicknamed the Steel Butterfly, sometimes the Iron Butterfly for her unique combination of fragile beauty, lavish lifestyle and iron-fisted, unyielding political ambition.Appointed governor of Metro Manila (1975–1986) by her strongman husband Ferdinand Marcos Sr, she led the Manila Cleanup Crusade” to polish the city’s streets, waterways and public spaces in preparation for major international events, a failing effort to put a shine on the chaotic conurbation of 15 cities, suburbs and slums into a “City of Man” including construction of the Cultural Center of the Philippines and a “Great Wall of Manila” to hide poverty-stricken slums behind white walls from the view of visiting foreign dignitaries.Imelda and Ferdy in cleanup daysAlas, Manila, often noted for its high levels of happiness and contentment, cheerfully resisted all attempts to redeem or reform it, lost as she focused on aesthetics to mask deep-seated social issues and ignoring actual sanitation and welfare needs.Remulla’s new attempt, led by his Department of the Interior and Local Government and the Philippine National Police, aims to bridge the gap between crime statistics and the public’s sense of security through high-visibility policing and strict enforcement of “quality-of-life” ordinances. In short, make police more visible and streets more orderly to fix the feeling of insecurity. His modern echo, flagging shirtless workers and shutting down late-night karaoke parlors amid public outcry, is driven by the Philippines’ hosting the ASEAN Summit. Once again, Manila is being dressed up for the world, and poverty is treated as a public relations problem.After his apology to Lanquino, he insisted that his initiative would be strictly enforced, albeit with clearer guidelines. Men going shirtless without practical reasons will be fined, he said, even in secluded alleys.“Working shirtless men are allowed,” Remulla told the Manila Bulletin. “But those just hanging out topless outside, walking that’s prohibited.’’ However, he said, “anything goes, even shirtless men roaming the streets may be allowed during special celebrations like fiestas, as long as no troubles or violent incidents transpire during these festivities.Where Imelda reshaped what people saw, this policy targets how people behave, which immediately has drawn condemnation from progressive and human rights groups, describing it misdirected and a crackdown against the poor. Critics say the pattern is clear. The plan’s visible targets are not major criminals but minor violations: public drinking, curfew breaches, noise complaints, and “indecent exposure.”“This is not about safety,” said Secretary General Cristina Palaba of the human rights NGO Karapatan. “This is a crackdown on the poor, plain and simple. We have seen this before. Thousands were rounded up in the name of ‘order,’ yet nothing changed for the better in the lives of the people. Instead, the poor were harassed, detained, some of them even get killed in these operations.”The irony is hard to miss. In a city where trillion-peso flood control projects disappear into the ether and high-profile fugitives slip through international borders with the grace of Olympic gymnasts, enforcement zeroes in on small, visible offenses. It’s easier to police behavior than dismantle systems that make the city unsafe.Much like Imelda’s rush to hide “eyesores” before international conferences and beauty pageants, Remulla’s initiative seems less about long-term crime reduction and more about presenting a sanitized, “disciplined” facade to ASEAN delegates.Enforcement also reveals a class divide. Shirtless laborers are fined, but joggers in gated villages are not. Curfews apply in poorer districts, while nightlife districts run late. Order, it seems, depends on where you live.The Interior Department plans to expand the program to other cities after its Metro Manila pilot. As it does, the question becomes clearer: do we want a city that is truly safe, or one that simply looks orderly? Until deeper inequalities are addressed, these patrols risk becoming little more than performance—highly visible, tightly enforced, and aimed at those with the least power to resist.