Food sovereignty: The politics of what Filipinos eat
At a time when the Philippines remains deeply exposed to food imports, climate shocks, nutrition insecurity and the cultural pull of fast food and ultraprocessed diets, Dr. Teodoro C. Mendoza’s “Food. . .

At a time when the Philippines remains deeply exposed to food imports, climate shocks, nutrition insecurity and the cultural pull of fast food and ultraprocessed diets, Dr. Teodoro C. Mendoza’s “Food Nationalism: Nourishing the Nation” arrives as both an argument and a challenge. It asks Filipinos to rethink food not merely as a commodity or a matter of individual taste, but as a question of sovereignty, public health, ecological survival and national identity. Mendoza, a retired professor and agricultural scientist at the University of the Philippines Los Baños, builds the book around a powerful thesis: The country’s food insecurity cannot be solved by imports alone. Article continues after this advertisementFor him, food security must be rooted in local production, indigenous crops, culinary heritage, biodiversity, agroecology and the dignity of farmers. FEATURED STORIESNEWSINFONEWSINFONEWSINFOFilipino dishes such as pinakbet, dinengdeng, laswa, ginataan, tinola and sinigang are treated not simply as comfort food, but as living archives of ecological intelligence. They carry knowledge about seasonality, local vegetables, fermentation, low-waste cooking and community resilience. One of the book’s strongest contributions is its insistence that Filipino food traditions have policy value. Mendoza argues that neglected vegetables, perennial crops, wild greens, root crops, fermented foods and medicinal plants should not remain at the margins of agriculture and nutrition programs. Malunggay, saluyot, gabi, kamansi, turmeric, lagundi, oregano and other familiar plants are presented as practical resources for climate adaptation, household nutrition and public health. Article continues after this advertisementThis gives the book a grounded quality: Its nationalism is not abstract flag-waving, but a proposal to rebuild food systems from the soil, garden, kitchen and barangay upward. At its core, the book argues that food nationalism is the antidote to food imperialism, which it describes as the deliberate strategy pursued by former colonial powers after granting “mock and hollow independence” to their colonies. Article continues after this advertisementFood imperialism entrenched reliance on imports, eroded domestic sovereignty and ensured that newly independent nations remained tethered to global supply chains dominated by industrial powers, according to Mendoza, an advocate of sustainable agriculture. He situates this within the Philippine experience, where imported wheat, processed meats and sugary beverages displaced indigenous vegetables, heirloom grains and fermented staples, reshaping tastebuds and weakening sovereignty. Mendoza demonstrates that food nationalism is not isolationism but a reclamation of sovereignty, an insistence that food security is national security. He underscores how food imperialism functions as a mechanism of neocolonial control, transferring risks and externalities to import-dependent nations while surplus nations consolidate profit and power. By positioning food nationalism as the antidote to food imperialism, Mendoza reframes the struggle for sovereignty as one fought not only in parliaments and trade negotiations but also in kitchens, farms and communal tables. The manuscript is especially compelling when it connects food to energy. In its discussion of food energetics, it shows how modern agriculture depends heavily on fossil fuels through fertilizers, irrigation, mechanization, shipping, refrigeration and long supply chains. This broadens the meaning of food sovereignty. A country dependent on imported food is also vulnerable to oil shocks, currency swings and geopolitical disruptions. In this sense, Mendoza’s argument that “food security is national security” gains force. The book’s tone is urgent, sometimes polemical and deliberately activist. It is not written as a detached academic monograph, although it draws from research and policy literature. It reads more like a manifesto, a teaching text and a policy brief combined. Its intended readers appear to be policymakers, educators, farmers, food advocates, students, local governments and coalition builders. For these audiences, the book offers many usable ideas: school gardens, food heritage mapping, public procurement of local crops, seed banks, regional food hubs, community food forests, plant-powered public meals, cooperatives and agroecology-based nutrition campaigns. Its main weakness is also tied to its ambition. Because the book covers many fields — agriculture, nutrition, microbiome science, climate policy, political economy, culture, religion, energy and geopolitics — it sometimes risks becoming repetitive and overextended. Some claims would benefit from tighter sourcing, clearer hierarchy and sharper editing. The manuscript could also gain from distinguishing more carefully between advocacy, scientific evidence and policy feasibility. A more disciplined structure would make its already strong argument more accessible to general readers. Still, “Food Nationalism” is a timely and necessary intervention. It restores moral and political weight to questions often reduced to price, supply and import statistics. It reminds readers that what Filipinos eat is inseparable from who grows the food, who profits from the system, what landscapes are protected or destroyed, and what cultural memory is passed to the next generation. At its best, Mendoza’s book is a call to reclaim the Filipino plate as a site of resistance and renewal. It argues that the path to a healthier and more sovereign nation may begin with the foods many Filipinos already know: vegetables from the backyard, recipes from elders, crops suited to local soil and meals that nourish not only the body but also the land and the community. For readers concerned with food security, climate resilience and Philippine identity, “Food Nationalism: Nourishing the Nation” is an impassioned, useful and deeply Filipino work. /dmYour subscription could not be saved. Please try again. Your subscription has been successful. RELATED ARTICLE:Philippine heritage dishes as tools of resistance and reform