The impeachment complaint against Sara Duterte has once again stirred confusion about what impeachment truly is. Many ask: Why does it not look like a regular trial? Why are there political speeches? Why does public opinion seem to matter? The answer is simple but uncomfortable for some: Impeachment is a constitutional political process. It is not a judicial proceeding in the ordinary sense.
Under the 1987 Philippine Constitution, an impeachment is entrusted to Congress. The House of Representatives has the exclusive power to initiate cases. The Senate has the sole power to try and decide them. Notice what is absent: regular courts. No trial court judge. No Court of Appeals. No Supreme Court reviewing the facts midstream. That design is intentional.
A criminal case asks one central question: Did the accused commit a crime defined by law, proven beyond reasonable doubt? The rules are rigid. Evidence must follow strict standards. Objections are technical. A single procedural misstep can nullify years of work.
Impeachment asks a different question: Is this official still fit to hold public office? The standard is political accountability, not criminal guilt. It is less like a courtroom determining whether someone stole a car, and more like a board of directors deciding whether a CEO has lost the trust of the company. Even if no crime has been proven, the board may conclude that confidence has eroded beyond repair.
Think of it this way. A courtroom is like a laboratory. Everything is controlled. Rules are precise. The objective is scientific certainty. Impeachment, on the other hand, is like a town hall meeting with constitutional guardrails. Evidence is presented, yes. Witnesses testify, yes. But the senators ultimately vote based on a mixture of law, facts, constitutional duty and their judgment of public trust.
This does not mean an impeachment is lawless. The Constitution provides structure. The Senate adopts rules. The Chief Justice presides when the President is on trial. Oaths are taken. But the proceeding remains political because the remedy is political. Removal from office is not imprisonment. It is not a fine. It is the withdrawal of public mandate.
Expecting impeachment to mirror a criminal trial is like expecting a congressional hearing to function like a courtroom cross-examination. They serve different ends. One punishes crime. The other protects institutions.
This distinction matters in the case of Vice President Duterte. Whatever one’s view on the merits of the complaint, the process will inevitably reflect the political character of Congress. Speeches will be made. Alliances will shift. Public opinion will exert pressure. That is not a defect in the system. It is the system working as designed.
In a democracy, not all accountability is judicial. Some of it is political. And impeachment sits precisely at that crossroads, where law meets governance and where the ultimate question is not merely legality, but trust.