EDITORIAL: Governance Questioned

THE prospect that both the President and the Vice President may soon face impeachment complaints has once again thrust the House of Representatives into the political spotlight.

As February approaches, the talk of impeachment—against President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and Vice President Sara Duterte—underscores not only the volatility of Philippine politics but also the fragility of public trust in institutions meant to safeguard accountability.

Impeachment, by design, is an extraordinary remedy. It is not intended to be routine, reactive, or driven by the political weather of the day.

Yet the mere fact that discussions are reportedly underway against the country’s two highest officials suggests a deeper malaise: a governance environment where suspicion, mistrust, and unresolved allegations continue to fester.

In the case of President Marcos, the allegations center on “betrayal of public trust,” particularly his perceived inaction amid claims of massive budget insertions and diversions between 2023 and 2025.

Critics argue that by signing corruption-riddled budgets and failing to speak out decisively, the President allowed Congress and even members of his own Cabinet to “desecrate” the national budget.

The resignation—courtesy or otherwise—of key Cabinet officials last year only fueled these suspicions, even as no conclusive proof has yet been presented.

For Vice President Duterte, the impending end of the one-year constitutional ban following the Supreme Court ruling revives an impeachment effort that had been procedurally derailed but not politically extinguished. Her case, like the President’s, is now entangled in a broader narrative of accountability versus political manoeuvring.

The danger lies in allowing impeachment to be reduced to a tool of spectacle. Lawmakers who caution against basing complaints on rumors, speculation, or partisan pressure are right to sound the alarm.

Impeachment is not, as one House leader aptly said, a press release. It is a constitutional process that demands clear facts, solid evidence, and sober judgment. Anything less diminishes its gravity and risks turning the House into an arena of political theatre rather than a chamber of statesmanship.

At the same time, dismissing impeachment talk outright as mere “political maneuvering” is equally problematic. When allegations involve public funds, governance failures, and possible complicity at the highest levels, they deserve serious scrutiny—not blanket dismissal.

The public’s growing cynicism toward politics is fueled precisely by the perception that powerful officials are insulated from consequences while ordinary citizens bear the cost of corruption and misgovernance.

What is at stake, therefore, is not just the political fate of Marcos or Duterte, but the credibility of constitutional accountability itself. If impeachment complaints are filed without evidence, they will collapse under scrutiny and further erode trust in Congress.

If, however, credible complaints exist and lawmakers shy away from them for fear of political backlash, then impeachment becomes an empty promise enshrined in the Constitution but hollow in practice.

The House Committee on Justice will play a pivotal role should any complaint be filed. Its duty is not to protect personalities nor to amplify political noise, but to determine—calmly and impartially—whether the allegations meet the constitutional threshold of form and substance. From there, the burden shifts to the entire House, and potentially to the Senate, to rise above factional interests.

The Filipino people are watching. They are weary of scandals that lead nowhere and processes that feel performative. They demand accountability, but they also demand fairness. February may indeed be “exciting” in political terms, but it must also be instructive.

Impeachment should remind those in power that public office is a public trust—and remind legislators that wielding this constitutional weapon requires restraint, integrity, and an unwavering commitment to the national interest.