It is a melancholic sight to anyone observing the state of our Congress that it is overrun by families. Husband and wife, cousin and uncle, all occupying seats that ought to be held by those of merit and industry.
These people, having little else to contribute, nevertheless enjoy the offices, salaries, and privileges of government — much to the detriment of the public, which must endure both the expense and the incompetence.
One need only glance at the Dutertes of Davao to understand why reform is urgent. Three family members in the House of Representatives: Paolo, Omar, Harold James. Rarely filing bills — until, of course, the family required legislation.
Months after their capo, the former president, was shipped off to the International Criminal Court, the trio proposed criminalizing the surrender of Filipinos to foreign entities, with penalties reaching death.
Three Dutertes in Congress produced 34 bills. Add 10 more cousins and the number might creep toward 50. When one family hoards representation, the country suffers.
We have been assured by competent observers that anti-dynasty laws — most recently the Marcos-Dy House Bill 6771 — are pending in Congress. They are supposed to limit one family member per level of government. Supposed.
Yet, as any competent observer could predict, such restrictions merely invite ingenious circumvention.
One Marcos occupies the presidency. Another holds a governorship. A few more sit in Congress, sprinkled across districts. Mayors are scattered at leisure. Barangay captains are unlimited. Term limits? A mere formality. Wife, child, cousin step in, as if by natural law.
Partylist groups — hallowed vessels for the marginalized — remain untouched, by design. They have become veritable nurseries for political vermin. What appears to be reform is, in truth, a delicate and profitable infestation.
The Marcos-Dy bill pretends to reform, relying entirely on an ingredient unknown in politics: shame.
Congressman Leandro Leviste’s proposal does not. Grounded in simple math — the natural enemy of nepotism — his “Anti-Politician Bill” suggests halving the number of House seats.
Pause in wonder, even horror, at the audacity of a member of this very class daring to attack his own kind. Is he mad? Certainly — if measured by the customary laws of self-preservation.
Dynasties love Congress because of space. Plenty of it. Everyone fits. Leviste’s idea shrinks the room. The family that once commanded four chairs now fights over one. An inconvenience, to be sure. Suddenly, they are negotiating at home. “You go.” “No, you go.”
That is reform.
The public will be spared the spectacle of multiple Dutertes, Yaps, Sottos, Dys and Marcoses occupying contiguous offices. Hereditary politics will be blunted. Competence, rather than bloodline, may again determine office.
Objectors will cry, “But this will leave honest men without opportunity!” Precisely. Seats are limited for a reason. Merit must compete. The infants of dynasties, once assured a place, must now negotiate like ordinary citizens.
Should this proposal be adopted, Congress may yet resemble an institution of governance — rather than a banquet hall for relatives.
We leave it to those in power to act, though we suspect they will require no small encouragement 0 — or a mirror — to recognize the absurdity of their own convenience.