Threshold, BARMM Elections and Political Dynasty Law

Three significant events unfolded this week, within three days, all touching on democracy, constitutional government and the continuing struggle to make our institutions work for the people.

Let me devote this column to three: the first Bangsamoro parliamentary elections, the amicus curiae proceedings on the voting threshold in the impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte, and the Supreme Court’s action on political dynasties.

September 14. The Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) held its first regular parliamentary elections, replacing the appointed Bangsamoro Transition Authority. For me, this is more than just another election. It is an important step in the long journey toward self-government and peace after decades of conflict in Mindanao.

The 80-member Parliament consists of 40 party representatives, 32 district representatives and eight sectoral representatives. The Parliament, rather than the voters directly, will choose the Chief Minister. But the election also reminds us that having elections does not automatically mean having democracy work for the people. Reports from observers and civil society groups, including CenPEG, raised concerns about election-related violence, accessibility and possible disenfranchisement in some areas. Rivalries involving political clans also remain a reality. More than 20,000 police and military personnel were deployed because of security concerns.

I am happy with the fact that Bangsamoro voters finally had the opportunity to choose their parliamentary representatives in a society where patronage and clan politics still have a strong hold. But I also hope that this new political system will gradually move beyond traditional politics and deepen genuine democratic participation. Whether the new Parliament can translate the people’s mandate into better governance, peace and opportunities for ordinary Bangsamoro.

September 16. The Senate impeachment court heard four retired Supreme Court justices and constitutional experts as amici curiae, or “friends of the court,” on the controversial question of the voting threshold for conviction. I watched the entire proceedings, and I could not help but wonder whether the senator-judges, especially those who sometimes get caught up in technicalities and political jargon, would come away more enlightened and exercise the impartiality and fairness expected of them. After all, an impeachment court should be about the collective search for truth and accountability.

The Constitution says that no person shall be convicted in an impeachment case without the concurrence of two-thirds of all the Members of the Senate. Since there are 24 senators, the presiding officer had ruled that 16 votes are required. But what happens when some senators are legally unable to participate?

Three of the four retired justices—Hilario Davide Jr., Artemio Panganiban and Reynato Puno—said the required number need not necessarily remain fixed at 16, depending on which senators are legally qualified to participate. This shows how a seemingly simple question of mathematics can become a serious constitutional question about representation and meaningful participation.

September 16. And then came this third historical development. The Supreme Court ruled that Congress had committed grave abuse of discretion by failing for 39 years to fulfill the constitutional mandate to enact a law prohibiting political dynasties. The Court said Article II, Section 26 is not merely an aspiration but imposes a constitutional duty on Congress to legislate.

I welcome these developments, especially at this time of the Peñafrancia Feast in Bicol, a time of prayer and hope. They are signs that our constitutional institutions are being compelled to do their respective roles. But I remain unconvinced. A court can remind Congress of its constitutional duty. It can order Congress to act. But ultimately, the quality of the law will depend on those who write it.

And here is the irony: Congress itself is where political dynasties are deeply represented. Congress has the discretion to define what constitutes a political dynasty and determine the scope of the prohibition and how it will be enforced. We must therefore remain vigilant that compliance does not become merely compliance on paper. I have read several versions of the proposed Anti-Political Dynasty Law. What strikes me is that much of the discussion seems to revolve around redefining what constitutes a political dynasty—who is related to whom, who may run and who may not—rather than confronting the substance of how political dynasties operate and how power is accumulated and maintained.

So, here they are: three events in three days. Three reminders about democracy and governance at work in our country. Does this mean we can expect anything real to happen now?