IN today’s time, progress tends to be tallied in factories, fortunes, and futuristic technology, which is why, for smaller economies, it can feel necessary to follow in the footsteps of wealthier nations. As progress cannot be judged by how closely it resembles someone else’s,  the proposed Pax Silica hub in Capas, Tarlac, poses a pressing question: Is the Philippines’ ability to pursue technology while protecting its indigenous roots the true measure of how the country will tally its progress?

Big Promises, Bigger Questions

The Philippines joined the United States-led Pax Silica initiative in April 2026. The Philippine News Agency reported that the initiative aims to strengthen semiconductor and artificial intelligence supply chains. The proposed hub in New Clark City would draw advanced manufacturing and related investment. 

Channel NewsAsia also reported last Oct. 16 that the government has committed to a 1,620-hectare site, with construction expected to begin in 2028. Besides Indigenous residents, farming families also face possible displacement, with a Senate hearing citing around 266 farmers who till land the Bases Conversion and Development Authority (BCDA) says it owns. Furthermore, in accordance with BCDA, the project is expected to attract between USD 40 billion and USD 70 billion in investment and generate more than 130,000 jobs. 

Yet, beyond this economic prosperity, national projections say nothing about who will benefit locally. This includes whether affected residents can reach the promised jobs or how resources will be shared. Additionally, water and energy remain unresolved, as Channel NewsAsia reported that the BCDA estimates the hub could need three gigawatts of electricity. 

The hub is expected to require 65 million to 90 million litres of water daily. To make the hub sustainable, the BCDA states it is studying a dedicated, largely solar-powered plant and plans to harvest, store, and recycle surface water from nearby rivers instead of tapping groundwater. Still, concerns about the toll on communities that rely on rivers, rainfall, and wells are shared by both residents and experts.

For the Aeta Hungey community, the proposed development has raised concerns about possible displacement and the loss of livelihoods tied to ancestral land. Community leader Petronila Muñoz told Agence France-Presse (AFP) in September that residents remained uncertain about the extent of the affected area and the future of their homes and livelihoods. 

These concerns place a central question before policymakers: how can the country pursue economic development while ensuring that affected communities are informed, protected, and included in decisions that shape their future?

Roots Before Riches

For the Aeta community, the concern stretches well beyond relocation. The land’s status is contested, since officials describe it as government land while Aeta residents say their families have lived there for generations and have submitted documents backing an ancestral-domain claim. As reported in GMA News, community representatives presented evidence of an application with the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples. Nonetheless, the proposed site overlaps with ancestral-domain claims. This could affect at least three Aeta villages. 

What Pax Silica risks overlooking is that progress must account for the meanings ancestral land holds beyond what its price per square meter can capture. Under the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act of 1997, ancestral domains encompass both the physical territory and the cultural and spiritual ties Indigenous Peoples maintain with their land. This makes free, prior, and informed consent essential. Communities must first understand a proposed project's purpose and scope.

The BCDA, the state agency leading the hub’s planning, has met with Capas officials and begun updating a census of affected households. Nevertheless, Community leader Petronila Muñoz likewise told AFP that the tribe had neither received a master plan nor been consulted beforehand. Consultation, thus, holds little meaning when families remain uncertain about key aspects. This comprises land boundaries, project impacts, possible relocation, and their rights. Furthermore, Aeta residents must have the opportunity to ask questions, consider alternatives, and participate in decisions. As these aspects will shape their homes and livelihoods, this is how consent becomes meaningful. Their personal concerns must carry equal weight alongside government claims.

Tomorrow’s Promise, Today’s Responsibility

Aeta children, too, stand to inherit the consequences. Losing land, water, and familiar surroundings threatens more than livelihoods; it risks severing cultural ties that no job offer can readily restore. The Philippines need not turn away from technology, but it must determine what technological progress should achieve and whom it should serve. Specifically, promised jobs must be accessible to local residents, just as environmental safeguards must be secured before construction commences.

The Philippines can draw lessons from international models of technological development while accounting for its own history, resources, and communities. For the Aeta Hungey, that means recognizing ancestral land not merely as a site for investment but as a foundation of cultural continuity and future generations' well-being. 

The proposed hub's long-term value will depend not only on its contribution to global technology supply chains, but also on how the government addresses the rights, concerns, and welfare of communities living in and around the development site.

Progress must reflect the country that pursues it. A Filipino vision of progress must advance innovation, protect ancestral identity, and preserve every community’s right to shape its future. After all, when the Philippines tallies its progress, its greatest gains must be measured not only in factories built and fortunes made, but in the people it uplifts, the heritage it protects, and the generations it brings into the future it promises.