A numbers game, a brewing feud
As they sit as judges who will vote to either convict or acquit, our senators must be reminded that their allegiance is to the Constitution and to the Filipino people.
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As they sit as judges who will vote to either convict or acquit, our senators must be reminded that their allegiance is to the Constitution and to the Filipino people.
Long before Presiding Officer Senator Chiz Escudero bangs the gavel to call the proceedings to order, both sides are already posturing before the cameras, previewing witnesses and framing the day’s expected testimony.
And like clockwork, once the hearing adjourns, both camps declare victory and tell Filipinos what they were supposed to have seen. Somewhere in between — lost in the spin — lies the actual merits of the trial. Last week’s proceedings laid bare this dynamic in all its theatrical glory.
Impeachment is a numbers game. With three senators absent — Marcoleta and Estrada detained on graft and plunder charges, and Dela Rosa having evaded Senate custody in May like a fugitive from a telenovela — only 21 can actually sit as judges.
Escudero has ruled that 16 votes are needed to convict, interpreting the Constitution literally. Others argue the threshold should be lowered to 15 based on actual physical attendance. The debate has become a legal labyrinth with no clear exit.
Enter Senator Marcoleta, who filed a manifestation asking the impeachment court to recognize his vote even while in detention. He cited a rule supposedly adopted during the Estrada impeachment trial that allowed senators who cannot vote in person to still do so. The matter was eventually referred to the Senate sitting as a legislative body in a regular session.
Senator Alan Peter Cayetano, never one to miss an opportunity, branded Marcoleta and Estrada as “political prisoners” and hinted that Estrada may have elevated the Sandiganbayan’s denial of his attendance bid to the Supreme Court.
Should the Senate amend its rules to allow remote voting, Marcoleta and Estrada’s vote could be counted. But another complication looms: the Sandiganbayan has imposed a 90-day preventive suspension on Estrada (and may soon do the same to Marcoleta), effectively barring him from performing official duties.
A preventive suspension moots the entire debate insofar as Estrada is concerned. What is certain is that at some point, the Supreme Court must finally settle how the phrase “all the members” should be interpreted. Every possible scenario for its interpretation now becomes a weapon in this political chess match.
But wait, a developing sideshow threatens to overshadow the main event. What began as bickering between Senator Ping Lacson and Senator Alan Peter Cayetano has escalated into a full-blown feud on social media. Lacson has vowed to build a case against Cayetano, whom he branded a “disgraced ex-Senate President,” declaring that he intends to put Cayetano “in his proper place — the Payatas, QC jail.”
The trigger? Cayetano questioned the sharp increase in Lacson’s declared net worth. Lacson countered by exposing alleged ghost flood control projects in Taguig, where Cayetano’s wife is mayor. Cayetano, for his part, has branded Lacson and Senator Erwin Tulfo as Malacañang “attack dogs.”
Personal animosities and political ambitions now intersect with the most consequential vote of their careers. As they sit as judges who will vote to either convict or acquit, our senators must be reminded that their allegiance is to the Constitution and to the Filipino people.
In this impeachment, the trial doesn’t stop when the court adjourns. It merely pauses until the next press conference — or the next accusation. The race is for which side’s narrative will be bought hook, line, and sinker by the masses. Beyond these public spectacles, we should ask: Is this really about justice, or just another episode in the never-ending soap opera of Philippine politics?
