Former Senate president Franklin Drilon’s lament about the Philippine Senate being a “confederation of 24 republics” is not just a clever metaphor — it is a sobering diagnosis of the state of the political party system in the country.

His statement cuts to the heart of a dysfunction that has plagued the upper chamber for decades — the lack of ideological consistency, party loyalty, and institutional discipline — all replaced by shifting alliances, personal ambition, and political convenience.

In principle, a strong political party system is essential for a functioning democracy. It provides a framework for coherent policy platforms, ensures accountability, and allows voters to make informed decisions based on party ideologies.

In contrast, what we see today in the upper chamber is a revolving door of opportunistic alliances, where party affiliation is more of a vehicle to win elections than a commitment to a set of beliefs and principles. Senators regularly switch parties, coalesce into blocs for convenience, or even run as independents only to align themselves later with the majority, depending on who holds the reins of power.

Drilon, in a television interview, traced the erosion of the party system to the martial law period under Ferdinand Marcos Sr., who abolished the existing political parties in favor of his Kilusang Bagong Lipunan (KBL). By so doing, Marcos dismantled the pre-martial law two-party system dominated by the Liberal Party (LP) and the Nacionalista Party (NP).

What replaced it was a rubber-stamp legislature and a political culture that emphasized loyalty to personalities over institutions. After the People Power Revolution, attempts to revive party politics never fully succeeded. Instead of rebuilding parties with clear platforms and internal discipline, politicians continued the trend of party-hopping, creating “rainbow coalitions” and opportunistic mergers.

The result? A Senate where leadership struggles are not fought on the basis of competing visions for the country but on behind-the-scenes deals, favors owed, and ambitions nursed.

The recent jockeying for the Senate presidency, for instance, was less about legislative direction and more about who could secure enough personal pledges from their peers. It underscored Drilon’s claim that senators are more akin to independent republics — sovereign actors who prioritize personal agendas, protect turf, and wield influence individually rather than as part of a collective mission.

This political fluidity weakens the Senate’s institutional integrity. Without party cohesion, it becomes difficult to push for long-term reforms or maintain consistent oversight over the executive branch. It also makes the Senate vulnerable to pressure from Malacañang and interest groups as lawmakers seek individual gain over legislative independence.

So, what’s the solution? Institutional reforms are needed to rebuild a credible party system. This includes strengthening anti-turncoat provisions, providing incentives for party loyalty, requiring clear ideological platforms, and educating voters to support candidates based not on popularity but on party programs and performance.

It’s a long road, but without a firm foundation in party politics, the Senate risks becoming what Drilon warns of: a chamber of 24 republics, each pulling in its own direction, with no unified compass to guide the nation’s legislative agenda.

In a democracy, politics must be more than personalities. Until that truth is restored, the Senate will remain a fragmented federation — symbolic of a fractured political landscape.