Even Friendly Reporters Aren’t Safe: What Eden Santos’ Ban Says About Press Freedom

There’s something strange about watching a government try to silence a reporter who, by most assumptions, should be on its side.

That’s what makes the Eden Santos–NET25–Malacañang saga more than just a case of protocol violation.

Because if a journalist from a pro-administration network can be pushed out for asking too many questions, what does that say about the space left for everyone else?

The Ban That Raised Eyebrows

On June 25, 2025, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. oversaw the destruction of billions worth of illegal drugs in Capas, Tarlac. During this event, Eden Santos of NET25 reportedly broke protocol by approaching the President twice, despite designated press boundaries.

A few days later, the Presidential Communications Office (PCO) formally asked NET25 to remove her from the Malacañang beat, citing “courtesy” and “decorum.”

But courtesy was never the issue. The real problem was control.

And the press knew it.

The Malacañang Press Corps (MPC) pushed back hard, calling the request a clear overreach. The NUJP added that maybe the Palace should be asking why journalists resort to ambush interviews to begin with. Maybe it’s because access has become so tightly scripted, reporters are left with no choice but to chase sound bites like they’re fugitives.

The Twist: Santos Wasn’t Supposed To Be a Threat

Here’s where it gets interesting.

NET25 is no opposition channel. It’s owned by Eagle Broadcasting Corporation, which is controlled by the Iglesia ni Cristo (INC)—a bloc-voting religious group known for backing whoever’s in power. In 2022, INC endorsed Marcos-Duterte. In 2025, they backed a slate of administration-aligned candidates. Their voting patterns are strategic, consistent, and massively influential.

And NET25 reflects that.

It has a history of favoring pro-establishment candidates and red-tagging opposition figures like Leni Robredo. A 2025 academic study even labeled it, alongside SMNI, as a platform for disinformation and state propaganda.

So why ban a reporter from your own cheering squad?

Eden Santos, Between the Lines

Unlike her network, Eden Santos doesn’t have an obvious personal political stance. There’s no record of partisanship, no grand declarations.

What she does have is a style: persistent, direct, and often uncomfortable for those in power.

She’s grilled PCO officials during press briefings. Asked hard questions about subsidies, corruption, accountability. She pushes—sometimes a little too hard for the taste of officials used to being obeyed.

And maybe that’s the issue.

Maybe even pro-administration media becomes disposable when one reporter forgets her place and acts like... well, a journalist.

Loyalty Has Limits—Even Among Allies

This incident is a warning: even allies can be punished for asking the wrong question at the wrong time.

If you’re from the opposition, you already expect to be marginalized.

But if you’re part of a network owned by the same institution that helped install the President into power? That’s supposed to be a shield. A cushion. A quiet understanding.

Yet Eden Santos was still pushed out. Not by a court, not by a ruling, but through a letter—a gentle request laced with unspoken threat.

That speaks volumes.

The Bigger Picture

This isn’t just about one reporter. Or even just about press freedom.

It’s about what happens when power gets too comfortable. When even loyal voices are silenced for daring to press record at the wrong moment.

And it’s about what it means to be a journalist in 2025: you can be part of a network aligned with the Palace, and still lose your seat in the room—for simply doing your job.

So the next time we see a reporter "ambush" the President for answers, maybe we should stop asking, “Why are they so aggressive?”

And start asking, “What answers are being hidden behind all that courtesy and decorum?”

(Credit to the owner of the photo.)