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Senators used a fair number of delaying tactics to postpone the impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte.
Impeached by the House of Representatives as early as February 5, Duterte’s impeachment trial still hasn’t begun. It was only on June 10 (more than four months later) that the Senate convened as an impeachment court. And on the very last day of session on June 11, in an unprecedented move, senators voted to “remand” the articles of impeachment to the House of Representatives.
This is not an option provided for in the 1987 Constitution. Understandably perplexed, House lawmakers urgently certified that the original impeachment complaint did not violate the 1987 Constitution. They’ve also deferred accepting the remanded complaint pending further clarification from the Senate.
All this puts in limbo a process that, as far as the Constitution is concerned, should be started immediately.
Section 3(4), Article XI of the Constitution says: “In case the verified complaint or resolution of impeachment is filed by at least one-third of all the Members of the House, the same shall constitute the Articles of Impeachment, and trial by the Senate shall forthwith proceed.”
But rather than proceed forthwith (or without haste), the Senate decided to sit on it. Senator Bato Dela Rosa even pushed to dismiss the case outright, as good as lawyering for VP Sara — thus contravening their roles as supposedly impartial “senator-judges.”
On the part of Senate President Francis “Chiz” Escudero, law experts say he should have shepherded the senators into forming an impeachment court as soon as they received the articles of impeachment. Instead, Chiz used as an excuse the fact that Congress went on recess from February 7 to June 2, time they could allegedly use to better prepare. Chiz also blamed the use of the word “forthwith” in the Constitution (he says it should have been “immediately” — a synonym). Law experts’ jaws dropped.
All these legal and political shenanigans can be taken as manifestations of the Philippines’ continuing problems with the rule of law.
According to the World Justice Project, the rule of law “is a durable system of laws, institutions, norms, and community commitment that delivers four universal principles: accountability, just law, open government, and accessible and impartial justice.”
What this means in practice is that: (1) government is accountable to the people; (2) laws are “clear, publicized, and stable and is applied evenly”; (3) implementing the law is governed by practices that are “accessible, fair, and efficient”; and (4) “justice is delivered timely by competent, ethical, and independent representatives and neutrals…”
Let me give a few examples. When politicians are just as likely to be stopped for traffic violations as Cabinet secretaries or senators, rule of law is at work. When you don’t feel compelled to bribe officials or fixers just to register your business or vehicle, rule of law is at work. When the rich can’t get away with paying their taxes, rule of law is at work. When police can’t just enter your home or arrest you for no reason, rule of law is at work.
In economic development, the rule of law is correlated with prosperity: countries with a higher computed rule of law index also have a higher level of income per person (though this could go the other way, too: prosperity could inspire better rule of law).
In 2024, the country with the highest rule of law index was Denmark (rank 1), followed by Norway, Finland, Sweden, Germany, and New Zealand. On the other extreme, those who were at the bottom five in the rule of law index were war-torn or authoritarian regimes like Myanmar, Haiti, Afghanistan, Cambodia, and Venezuela.
In the Philippines, sadly, it’s always been said by scholars that we have a “weak rule of law.” Our rule of law index in 2024 was 0.46 (1 is the highest), putting us at rank 99 out of 142 countries in the list.
I guess we’re all familiar with what weak rule of law looks like.
In the streets, for example, public officials are caught violating traffic rules but get away with it. In April, a vehicle of Senate President Chiz Escudero was caught using the EDSA lane exclusive for buses. Escudero apologized but didn’t get so much as a slap on the wrist. (Ironically, Escudero used “forthwith” correctly: he said at that time, “I do not personally use the protocol license plates issued to me, and forthwith the protocol plates involved in the incident will be surrendered to the LTO.”)
Bribing public officials (whether at the local or national levels) to lubricate transactions (e.g., registrations, permits, licenses) is also the norm in our society. Corruption is so widespread, it’s almost like we live and breathe it as a society. We’re more likely to expect it than not. In 2024, the Corruption Perceptions Index of the Philippines was 33/100, ranking us 114th out of 180 countries. This continues to be a major turn-off for prospective investors, who would rather put their money in countries where laws are implemented fairly and predictably.
When it comes to paying taxes, the ultrarich can sometimes get away with it. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., for instance, ignored for a long time an order from the Bureau of Internal Revenue to pay estate taxes amounting to at least P203 billion. If the President himself can get away with not paying his taxes, how can he expect Filipinos to happily pay taxes, especially new ones like the one on digital services?
Weak rule of law was in plain view as well during the term of former president Rodrigo Duterte: from the bloody war on drugs to the draconian pandemic lockdowns. The poor, especially, were at risk: authorities could arrest or even kill their loved ones almost on a whim. Justice was most elusive for them.
Today, in 2025, the uber-prolonged impeachment of VP Sara is but another manifestation of the Philippines’ weak rule of law. According to law experts, including Paolo Tamase of the UP College of Law, the 1987 Constitution is supposed to be an “accountability Constitution,” and impeachment is one of the strongest accountability devices in the country’s organic law. But senators as good as treated the Constitution as a mere scrap of paper, and sh*t on it collectively. Why will investors want to put their money in the Philippines when even the lawmakers themselves can’t bring themselves to treat the Constitution with respect and deference?
Those pushing for impeachment allege that the trial is still very much alive and will likely carry over to the 20th Congress. But as they say, justice delay is justice denied. Each day the trial is denied, we allow Sara Duterte to get off the hook.
Lamentably, the incoming batch of senators looks like they will add to the pro-Duterte bloc, and likely end up voting to acquit Sara Duterte. But the impeachment trial ought to proceed if only to serve as a public venue (broadcast on TV, radio, and the web) through which the people can see the evidence themselves.
Let the public stay glued to their TV or smartphone screens and follow the proceedings like they would a teleserye. If public pressure is strong enough, perhaps an acquittal won’t necessarily be a foregone conclusion. – Rappler.com
JC Punongbayan, PhD is an assistant professor at the UP School of Economics and the author of False Nostalgia: The Marcos “Golden Age” Myths and How to Debunk Them. In 2024, he received The Outstanding Young Men (TOYM) Award for economics. Follow him on Instagram (@jcpunongbayan) and Usapang Econ Podcast.