In the thorny corridors of Philippine politics, few events stir the pot as much as a shift in Senate leadership. Recent developments have provided a spectacle worth dissecting. Senator Francis “Chiz” Escudero’s ascent to the Senate presidency has been marred by allegations that he is a mere puppet of the Palace. Escudero’s protestations against this label, however, ring hollow, and his defense is fraught with cynicism and contradictions.

In an interview with ANC’s “Headstart,” Escudero decried the accusations of being a Palace lackey as “unfair,” invoking the tenure of his predecessor, Juan Miguel Zubiri, to bolster his argument. “Nobody ever accused Senator Zubiri of being a Palace lackey,” Escudero insisted, pointing out that the senators chose Zubiri themselves. This retort, though ostensibly reasonable, glosses over a fundamental hypocrisy. The very essence of Escudero’s defense lies in the unstated implication that political machinations are somehow above reproach when they favor him.

Escudero’s assertion that the Palace has no vote in the selection of the Senate president is a masterclass in political theater. The senators may indeed cast the ballots, but to suggest that the executive branch exerts no influence is to deny the very nature of political patronage and backroom dealings that characterize Philippine governance. Escudero’s claim is disingenuous at best, and at worst, a cynical attempt to mask the realpolitik that underpins his rise to power.

Adding to this political drama is the conduct of the unseated Senate President Juan Miguel Zubiri. His resignation speech on May 20 was a masterful display of wounded pride and defiance. “I fought the good fight,” Zubiri declared, evoking the image of a martyr cast out by the whims of shadowy “powers that be.” This portrayal of himself as a principled warrior rings hollow when one considers the context of his ousting. Zubiri’s subsequent behavior has been anything but sportsmanlike. Instead of gracefully accepting his ouster, he has chosen to hint at conspiracies and external pressures, thus fueling the very narrative that casts Escudero as a Palace puppet.

The political coup that was not a coup is yet another chapter in the Philippines’ storied tradition of political intrigue. Escudero claims to have had no interest in the Senate presidency until May 16, when he “initiated” the change in leadership. This conveniently timed change of heart smacks of premeditation. His narrative of calling Senator Ramon “Bong” Revilla Jr., who in turn roped in Senator Jinggoy Estrada, reads more like a script from a political drama than a spontaneous call to duty. The fact that Estrada was rumored to be involved in a supposed coup plot earlier in the year only adds to the air of inevitability surrounding this leadership change.

Escudero’s clarification that he was not part of the alleged coup plot because he was abroad at the time is almost laughable. Distance has rarely been a barrier to political maneuvering in an age where communications technology obliterates geographical boundaries. His attempt to distance himself from the coup rumors is as transparent as it is unconvincing.

In this melodrama of shifting allegiances and power plays, what is sorely missing is a sense of genuine leadership and vision. Both Escudero and Zubiri appear more concerned with their personal political survival than with the substantive issues facing the nation. The Philippines deserves a Senate leadership that is not mired in allegations of subservience or beset by the unsportsmanlike conduct of deposed leaders.

The path forward requires a recommitment to the principles of transparency, accountability, and genuine public service. Escudero must prove through actions, not just words, that he is more than a Palace lackey. He must champion legislation that addresses the pressing needs of the Filipino people and show a willingness to stand up to the executive branch when necessary.

As for Zubiri, he would do well to adopt a more statesmanlike demeanor in his post-presidency role. Instead of insinuating dark conspiracies, he should focus on constructive opposition and collaboration, demonstrating that his tenure was not just about personal power but about advancing the national interest.

In this high-stakes game of political chess, the Filipino people are the pawns who stand to lose the most. It is high time for all players to rise above petty squabbles and power plays, and to act with the integrity and foresight that their positions demand. Only then can the Senate hope to regain the trust and respect of the people it is meant to serve.