The political spectacle unfolding in Congress has introduced a new player: Representative Leandro Legarda Leviste. Young, articulate, and driven by a narrative of reform, he has positioned himself as the anti-corruption champion of his generation. His recent exposé, which led to the resignation of DPWH Undersecretary Arrey Perez, an associate of Secretary Vince Dizon, was delivered with the skill of someone who understands the power of showmanship. Yet beneath this public confrontation lies a contradiction too glaring to ignore.
Leviste’s denunciation of Perez, whom he accused of benefiting from contractor collusion, was not just a political move. It was a deliberate attack that led to a resignation and brought public focus to the corruption within the Department of Public Works and Highways. But as the turmoil died, the question remained: who is the man behind the accusations, and what moral standing does he truly have?
The congressman’s background is well known. He is the son of Senator Loren Legarda, a seasoned lawmaker whose political influence is notable and often examined. His father, Antonio Leviste, once led Batangas and later served time for homicide, controversially living in a mansion while in prison. These are not just minor details in Leandro’s story but key parts of the privilege he now holds.
In 2019, a franchise bill for Solar Para sa Bayan Corporation, founded by Leviste, passed through Congress unusually quickly. Advocacy groups raised concerns about the bill’s approval, citing possible conflicts of interest. Senator Legarda abstained from voting, citing delicadeza, but her abstention was insufficient to prevent the bill from becoming law. The company thrived, and Leviste sold billions in shares before entering politics, a move presented as a sign of independence. However, independence is hard to claim when one’s rise is built on dynastic power.
The 2022 elections uncovered another layer of entanglement. Leviste donated ₱100 million to his mother’s Senate campaign, the most significant contribution she reported. Legally, yes. But legality doesn’t eliminate the optics of influence. The son funded the mother, whose legislative influence helped elevate his business to national prominence. This isn’t reform. It’s reinforcing the very structures that promote patronage.
As Leviste targets DPWH officials, the irony becomes obvious. A man whose wealth and political power are connected to family privilege now portrays himself as a champion of integrity. The exposé on Usec. Perez might have been justified, but righteousness loses its force when wielded by those who have benefited from the same system they now criticize.
And then comes the question too troubling to ignore: Where did the billions come from?
Leviste founded Solar Philippines in 2013 at the age of 20. By 2025, he had sold over ₱34 billion shares in its publicly listed subsidiary, SP New Energy Corporation (SPNEC). The company’s rapid rise was driven by strategic partnerships, including a significant investment from Meralco PowerGen Corporation, which purchased 14.6 billion shares for ₱18.26 billion. Leviste also sold shares to public investors, raising an additional ₱2.23 billion. While these transactions are impressive, they also raise questions about valuation, timing, and the influence of political connections in accelerating business success.
Was Leviste simply lucky? Or was his luck engineered by access, influence, and legislative facilitation?
Solar Para sa Bayan, another entity he controlled, was granted a 25-year franchise by Congress in 2019. The bill’s passage was quick, and critics argued that it bypassed regulatory safeguards. The franchise allowed Leviste to operate mini-grids in underserved areas, giving his company a competitive advantage in a heavily regulated industry. The perception of this legislative favor and his family’s political influence suggests that Leviste’s billions were not made in a vacuum. They were built in an ecosystem where power and profit are interconnected.
As a businessman, Leviste is undeniably shrewd. As a politician, he is calculating. As a public servant, he is wrapped in reformist rhetoric that hides a dynastic plan. His fight against corruption may be genuine, but sincerity does not equal purity. The machinery that built his empire is the same machinery he now claims to dismantle.
In the Philippines, reform often comes wrapped in privilege. Congressman Leviste’s fight against corruption might resonate with a public tired of scandal, but resonance doesn’t mean it’s genuine. His billions didn’t appear out of nowhere; they were amassed within a system that values closeness to power and punishes transparency. The franchise his company acquired, the campaign he financed, and the resignation he prompted all demonstrate a man who knows how to play the game. But knowing the game isn’t the same as changing it. The actual test of reform isn’t in the enemies you expose, but in the willingness to dismantle the structures that helped your rise. What the public sees is not real change, but performance.
Leviste’s law of leverage can be understood as an unwritten principle that governs the trajectory of individuals who ascend to power not solely through merit but through the strategic use of inherited privilege, political proximity, and institutional access. It is not a codified statute but a pattern. This pattern reveals how influence, when concentrated in dynastic hands, can be repurposed to simulate reform while preserving the very structures that enabled it.
In a system where power is inherited and influence is currency, those born into privilege can convert political proximity into private capital and rebrand that capital into public virtue without ever dismantling the machinery that made it all possible.
This “law of leverage” encapsulates the paradox of Leviste’s public persona. As a businessman, he capitalized on legislative favors and market positioning that were arguably facilitated by his family’s political stature. As a politician, he now wields the moral cudgel of anti-corruption, targeting the very institutions that once enabled his ascent. Leviste’s law of leverage suggests that in Philippine politics, the appearance of reform can be as potent as reform itself, especially when it is leveraged for further power.
The spotlight remains on Leviste’s law of leverage.