Our country today is exhausted. Worn thin by a near-constant drumbeat of scandal, accusation and counterattack, a majority of citizens are asking a blunt, overdue question: why is the nation being pushed into another convulsion when the law, the constitution and the calendar already provide the proper avenues for accountability and transition?
For months now, what should be a sober contest of facts and institutions has instead been turned into a non-stop fatal attraction of political theater. One faction pictures a quick, extra-constitutional removal of President Ferdinand ‘Bongbong’ Marcos Jr. (PBBM) to make way for Vice-President Sara Duterte. Another concedes no principle in pursuit of that goal – dredging up family quarrels, recycling unproven allegations, and parading viral exposés in place of court filings. Another group pushing for a transition council or a military- backed ‘reset’. Meanwhile the public watches with increasing impatience, knowing full well that the stakes are not only who sits in Malacañang before 2028, but which foreign axis will benefit from the chaos.
Make no mistake: this is not merely domestic soap opera. It looks, smells and acts like a coordinated campaign to destabilize an elected government and to position an alternate leader – Vice-President Duterte – for an early, contested succession. Everything in the recent sequence of events points to that objective. When political impulses coincide with institutional failures, cynicism spreads. Citizens rightly ask whether these ‘revelations’ are genuinely about exposing corruption and malfeasance, or about grabbing power now, before voters have their say again.
There are two threads to view separately but simultaneously: the substantive allegations and the method of addressing them. Substantively, the vice president faces impeachment moves that were, by many accounts, deferred by political maneuvers from allies in the Senate; the president – through a dramatic video exposé by a former House appropriations official – has been accused of receiving kickbacks tied to purported flood control insertions. These are grave claims. If true, they would be catastrophic for public trust. They should be pursued relentlessly, transparently and in court.
But the manner in which these claims are being used reveals a poisonous impatience. When allegations become headline instruments of political theater instead of evidence in a court of law, democracy loses. The attempt to manufacture a public consensus for removal through soundbites and rallies undermines the very accountability it claims to seek. It replaces deliberation and due process with viral outrage, and in doing so it sets the country on a path where the loudest faction – or the most sophisticated foreign actor – decides who governs.
Complicating the scene is the spectacle of family against family. Senator Imee Marcos’ shocking public assault on her brother alleging drug use – and her theatrical demand for hair-follicle tests. It was a political grenade lobbed into an already hot field, timed to feed a wider destabilization narrative. As Filipinos, family betrayals have power precisely because they cut through partisan filters and shock citizens into taking sides. But they are not substitutes for evidence. Public life requires evidence; vendettas do not.
Added also are organized calls for ouster from influential institutions and networks: religious blocs , a cohort of former generals loyal to ex-President Duterte, and assorted civic organizations. Some cloak their ambitions in the righteous language of ‘accountability.’ But when accountability becomes a pretext for immediate regime change, the pretense rings hollow. The Constitution – and the rule of law it enshrines – provides the remedy for presidential misconduct. If the grounds for impeachment exist, they must be pursued through the House and the Senate. Street pressure should never substitute constitutional process.
And then there is the foreign dimension: pro-China forces, overt and covert, have reportedly intensified an information offensive aimed at discrediting the Marcos administration and the Philippine economy in the world. Whether these actors are attempting to erode investor confidence or to amplify domestic fractures is less important than the fact that foreign geopolitical objectives now overlap with domestic power plays. This is the most dangerous element of the present crisis. When internal political disputes intersect with rival external agendas, ordinary Filipinos – not the politicians – become the collateral damage.
For those who think the Armed Forces will solve the crisis, history offers a cautionary tale. The Philippines has lived through military takeovers and attempted coups, and the memory of instability is fresh in the national psyche. Yet the current military posture is telling: the Armed Forces have publicly affirmed that they will not engage in internal political disputes and that institutional mechanisms must resolve political differences. That is as it should be. The soldiers’ refusal to be political kingmakers – as commentators and columnists have noted – is a sign of a maturing republic and a rejection of the old coup-first, govern-later playbook.
Why then this rush to topple an administration that had a popular mandate and which has nearly three years left in office? Why the urgency to replace a president midterm, to invite instability into already precarious economic and social circumstances? We must not be naïve. Power vacuums are magnet for opportunists and for foreign actors hoping to realign the Philippines to their strategic preferences. The question that ordinary citizens must insist on is blunt: who benefits from an early change in leadership? If the answer includes foreign interests that would prefer a weaker, divided Philippines, then the call to ‘act now’ should be treated with skepticism.
Equally worrying is the growing refusal among civil society groups, progressive organizations to accept constitutional succession merely because they distrust the successor. If they fear that Vice-President Duterte would pursue policies inimical to democratic norms or national security, the response should be to fight those policies in the halls of Congress, in civil society, and at the ballot box – not to subvert the Constitution’s succession rules. The very groups that once defended democratic norms should be the loudest advocates for due process today.
To be clear: calling for constitutional process is not an argument for impunity. If corruption is proven, public officials – including the president – must be prosecuted without fear or favor. Independent investigations, swift prosecutions and transparent trials are the correct way to restore public trust. Those who have evidence should present it in courts; those who lack evidence should stop fanning the flames. The country deserves neither unproven smears nor summary kangaroo courts.
What the country needs now is a dual strand of action: first, rigorous, impartial investigations of all credible allegations – led by independent prosecutors, overseen by the judiciary, and open to public scrutiny; second, a national pause on extra-constitutional schemes for regime change. The former restores justice; the latter preserves the republic.
Let us also be candid about the political arithmetic: many Filipinos remain deeply wary of a Sara Duterte presidency. Her family’s record, the specter of authoritarian tendencies, and unresolved questions about accountability make many civic actors and voters nervous about a midterm succession. Their fears are valid. But those fears should be addressed through the ballot box in 2028 and through political organizing and persuasion today – not by undermining the constitution and inviting the very instability that will weaken the Philippines and imperil its sovereignty.
The most dangerous outcome would be to trade an elected, if flawed, administration for a regime of chaos that hands the Philippines to actors – domestic or foreign – who have no democratic mandate. Filipinos remember too well the cost of extra-constitutional transfers: broken institutions, looted treasuries, and a citizenry left to pick up the pieces.
Let the institutions – the courts, the Congress, the electoral calendar – do what they are designed to do. So let the record show: President Marcos will finish his term unless the constitution and the law provide a different, legitimate outcome. The rush to remove him for the sake of short-term political gains or foreign strategic objectives should be resisted by every defender of democracy. If opponents have proof of wrongdoing, file it. If civil society fears a successor’s policies, organize and campaign. But do not burn the Constitution for a moment of triumphalism.
The country deserves better than coups, rumors and theatrics. It deserves proof, process and prudence. BBM stays on – until, and unless, the Constitution says otherwise. And until that day, soldiers, institutions and citizens must stand firm against being used as instruments in someone else’s or another country’s rush to power.