The Midnight Hour for Philippine Democracy: Sara Duterte’s Impeachment Trial Stalls

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — June 4, 2025

IN Manila, the clock ticks toward midnight for democracy. The impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte, set to stagger forward on June 11, 2025, dangles by a thread, dribbled like a basketball for four months, as Senator Risa Hontiveros quips, while the nation’s constitutional shot clock nears zero. Senate President Francis Escudero’s maneuvers—pushing the trial to the brink of Congress’s adjournment—cast a dark shadow over the Philippines’ fragile democratic institutions. Is this governance, or a masterclass in political theater? The answer lies in a web of procedural gambits, dynastic warfare, and a Constitution stretched to its breaking point.

Unmasking the Playbook: Governance or Sabotage?

Escudero’s rescheduling of the Articles of Impeachment reading to June 11, 2025, followed by a 10-day response window for Duterte, squeezes the trial into a near-impossible nine days before the 19th Congress dissolves on June 30. He wraps this in lofty rhetoric, claiming to prioritize “pressing national concerns over partisan conflict” and urging lawmakers to focus on governance over “drama.” Yet the façade cracks under scrutiny. This is the same Escudero who jetted to Paris Fashion Week with his celebrity wife, Heart Evangelista, a move Akbayan Representative Perci Cendana mocked as treating impeachment like a “seasonal accessory.” The contradiction—preaching legislative duty while parading at haute couture—fuels suspicions of calculated obstruction.

This mirrors global democratic erosion, where leaders weaponize procedure to dodge accountability. Think Hungary’s Viktor Orbán, manipulating parliamentary rules to cement power, or Brazil’s stalled impeachment processes under Dilma Rousseff, which eroded public trust. Escudero’s past alignment with Rodrigo Duterte’s allies during elections hints at loyalties less to the Constitution and more to old political debts, raising questions about his impartiality.

Shredding Excuses with Constitutional Might

Escudero, a lawyer, leans on Senate rules, claiming the trial cannot outlive the 19th Congress. Yet this argument collapses under constitutional scrutiny. Article XI, Section 3(6) of the 1987 Constitution mandates that the Senate “shall have the sole power to try and decide all cases of impeachment,” with no explicit bar on trials spanning congressional terms. Former Senate President Franklin Drilon obliterates Escudero’s stance: Senate rules on “unfinished legislative business” apply to bills, not impeachment, a distinct constitutional mandate. Hontiveros brands the delays “obstructions dressed up as protocol,” while Minority Leader Aquilino Pimentel III insists the trial must persist until a verdict.

The irony stings: Escudero, legally trained, clings to procedural limits while flouting constitutional imperatives. Legal scholars at Respicio Law Firm affirm that impeachment’s unique status trumps Senate tradition. Senate Majority Leader Francis Tolentino’s counterclaim—that continuation is unconstitutional—prioritizes bureaucratic inertia over justice, a tactic Drilon calls “suppressing the truth with technicality.”

The Marcos-Duterte Blood Feud: Justice or Political Assassination?

Duterte’s impeachment is less about accountability and more a gladiatorial clash between dynasties eyeing 2028’s presidential throne. The UniTeam alliance, which united Marcos Jr. and Duterte in 2022, has crumbled, with House Speaker Martin Romualdez and First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos leading the charge against her. Polls position Duterte as a 2028 frontrunner, a threat to Marcos’s allies. Her impeachment—driven by allegations of misusing P125 million in education funds—could ban her from future office, a convenient strike against a rival. But is this justice or a political hit job? The charges carry weight, yet the House’s rushed timeline reeks of vendetta.

The human toll grounds this power struggle. In Tondo, a Manila street vendor named Belinda, 42, told me, “Those millions could have bought books for my kids’ school. Instead, we’re stuck with broken desks and no hope.” Teachers, like Ana in Quezon City, echo her despair: “We’re rationing chalk while politicians play games.” These voices crystallize the trial’s stakes: every delay betrays Filipinos struggling amid an education crisis.

A Battle Plan to Save Democracy

The Senate’s foot-dragging risks a replay of the Estrada impeachment crisis of 2000, when procedural games ignited People Power 2, toppling a government. To avert chaos, the Supreme Court must preemptively clarify Article XI’s ambiguity, affirming that impeachment trials outlast congressional terms. International observers, perhaps from the Inter-Parliamentary Union, should monitor the process to dispel perceptions of “local politics” tainting justice. And the Senate must heed Leila de Lima’s urgent plea: “Will evidence see daylight, or will the Senate slam the door?” Swift action will prove senators are not gatekeepers of convenience but guardians of a democracy on the brink.

The Final Shot: Truth or Tyranny?

The Senate holds the ball, with four months of dribbling testing a nation’s patience. As the June 11 deadline looms, Filipinos wait to see if truth will prevail or if political theater will smother accountability. The choice will echo through history, deciding whether the Philippines remains a beacon of democracy or slips further into the shadows of dynastic rule.