ON July 28, 2025, the 20th Congress — the Senate and House of Representatives — convenes. This will be timed with President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s State of the Nation Address (SONA) which is to be delivered in a joint session of Congress at the Batasang Pambansa. This is a traditional festive event where the honorable senators and congressmen/women with their spouses — legitimate or otherwise — preen for the TV cameras attired in their finest Filipiniana costumes. The men in Barong Tagalog and the women in their baro’t saya, kimona or terno, with their distinctive butterfly sleeves designed by their incongruously expensive couturiers. The nouveau riche — or the soon-to-be — will come in droves, some displaying their branded accessories, Rolex, Cartier and Patek Philippe, and Louis Vuitton, YSL, Hermes Birkin, etc. Some scattered progressives, leftist and genuine representatives of indigenous communities will strike a contrast by wearing real native tribal bahag (loincloth), but being in the minority they will not merit TV time.

Senate

This week’s column exposes to the public a different angle on some of these senators and their ilk we voted to power, now decoupled from the leverage we ordinary voters once possessed before elections.

The Philippine Senate, a venerable institution designed as a deliberative body epitomizing the national interest, is one of the three independent branches of government patterned after the American federal system representing its 50 states (two senators per state, six-year term and no term limits). Our model, imposed by Westerners, ignorant of the nuances of our ethos, was meant to be a microcosm of the nation’s political milieu and cultural diversity.

Divorced from the American practice, our senators are elected to serve six years, limited to two terms. Senators often come from established political families that morphed into political dynasties (polidyn). The first siblings to have sat together in Congress were Jose Laurel Jr. and Salvador “Doy” Laurel. The former, a speaker of the House and Doy as senator and later President Cory’s unlamented vice president.

A family heirloom

Today, the 20th Congress is a perversion containing four sets of siblings from polidyns. Philippine studies show (Ronal Mendoza, ASOG, 2019) that these narratives of kinship reveal a persistent shadow of corruption exacerbated by ever-shifting sands of political party affiliations. More dubious are the bloodlines intertwining the Senate and the bureaucracy of regimes in power. Cynthia Villar of the real-estate billionaire family was for a time sitting as a powerful senator while her son, Mark Villar, was the equally powerful secretary of public works in the Duterte regime, then later elected senator. Upon the retirement of mother Cynthia, senator Mark’s sister, Camille, has been elected senator and assumes her mother’s former post. Their patriarch, Manny Villar, Cynthia’s husband, was once the Senate president and before that was speaker of the House of Representatives that initiated President Joseph “Erap” Estrada’s impeachment.

The current configuration highlights a sustained family presence. The Tulfo brothers, Erwin and Raffy, could have assumed a bizarre familial connection had Ben, the third brother, won in the last senatorial election. While senator Erwin was a party-list representative before his Senate bid, Raffy, a media personality, won his Senate seat in 2022. So too are the Cayetano siblings — Pia and Alan Peter — both children of the late senator Rene Cayetano, the dynasty founder. Alan Peter once ran for vice president as Rodrigo Duterte’s running mate. Pia is on her second set of a 12-year stint, solidifying the family’s legislative footprint.

Beyond full relatives, the dynamic extends to half-siblings, exemplified by Jinggoy Estrada and JV Ejercito, the children of former president Erap. Jinggoy, is the son of legal wife former senator Loi and JV, son of common-law wife, former San Juan mayor Guia Gomez. This lineage underscores how political arcana can be passed down and branched out within complex family structures, perpetuating a political legacy across generations.

Criminal syndicates

The discourse surrounding Philippine senators is not solely about familial ties. A significant and often contentious aspect involves allegations of corruption and criminality, which have cast a long shadow over the institution. A case in point is Jinggoy Estrada who faced charges of plunder and bribery stemming from the infamous Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF), commonly known as the “pork barrel,” scam. This scandal involved the alleged misuse of discretionary funds allocated to lawmakers, that were allegedly funneled to bogus nongovernment organizations masterminded by Janet Lim-Napoles in exchange for kickbacks.

Jinggoy’s legal rollercoaster ride is reflective of a weak and corrupt justice system. First acquitted of plunder by the Sandiganbayan, he was convicted of one count of direct bribery and two counts of indirect bribery in January 2024, a verdict that included a prison sentence, a fine and disqualification from public office. This conviction however was not final and executory at that time, thus allowing him to again run for senator.

Subsequently in a highly questionable move in August 2024, the Sandiganbayan reversed its decision, effectively clearing Jinggoy of the direct and indirect bribery charges. This acquittal was upheld in December 2024, solidifying his clearance from these specific corruption charges. As of July 5, 2025, Jinggoy Estrada has been acquitted of both plunder and bribery charges related to the PDAF scam. He goes scot-free.

Teflon senators

A slight digression for historical context is the case of former senator Juan Ponce Enrile — a “Makoy” henchman — who was likewise a key figure in the PDAF scam. Enrile was arrested and detained but eventually acquitted of plunder. It was his chief of staff, Gigi Reyes, who was convicted of the crime and did jail time for more than six years.

Jinggoy’s kabarkada and co-accused — former senator Ramon “Bong” Revilla Jr. (coming 13th place in the recent election) also faced charges of plunder and graft. He was acquitted of plunder and his graft cases were dismissed by the Sandiganbayan — but he was ordered to return P124.5 million in civil liability. But his former chief of staff Richard Cambe was convicted and tragically died in prison. These high-profile acquittals in major corruption cases have often sparked public debate and scrutiny, raising questions about accountability and justice within the Philippine legal system. The big fishes get away — the small fry are eaten.

The cabal of senators provides a fascinating lens through which to view the intricacies of the nation’s dysfunctional political and justice system. It underscores the persistent challenge of corruption, with high-profile cases like the PDAF scam — and the latest anomalous 2025 budget manipulation — shaping public perception and continually testing the pathetic justice system. The fluctuating status of these cases, particularly the acquittal of powerful figures, continue to fuel national conversations about accountability.

It highlights the pervasive nature of polidyns, where relatives and siblings often follow in each other’s footsteps, extending family influence across legislative branches and governance. The Philippine constitution is unequivocally on the prohibition of polidyns yet allows their survival and proliferation shielded by that critical escape proviso, “as may be defined by law.” Who makes the law but the dynasts!

These intertwined relationships, a defining characteristic of political reality in the higher echelon of leadership, leads to an entrenched power base from whence regulatory capture, rent-seeking engagements through its influence-peddling tentacles reach out to the nooks and crannies of governance.

These are the honorable senators we voted for!

The Senate President crowed yesterday that the party he nominally coheads, PDP-Laban, has a “pleasant problem” — too many potential senatorial candidates. Koko Pimentel’s estimate is they have up to 20 possible choices for the 12-person slate for the 2019 senatorial race. But his list includes the five administration-affiliated senatorial incumbents up for reelection next year. This is a group that has made noises that, much as it prefers to remain in the administration camp, it is unhappy with the way PDP-Laban has been designating its local leaders and candidates, and therefore prefers to strike out on its own, perhaps in alliance with the other administration (regional) party, Hugpong ng Pagbabago, headed by the President’s daughter and current Davao City mayor, Sara Duterte.

Setting aside, then, the five-person “Force,” the administration-oriented but not PDP-friendly reelectionists (Nancy Binay, Sonny Angara, Cynthia Villar, Grace Poe, and JV Ejercito), what Koko’s crowing over is a mixed bag. Some of them have been floated by Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez (with whom Mayor Duterte clashed in recent months): six representatives (Gloria Macapagal Arroyo who is in her last term in the House of Representatives; Albee Benitez, Karlo Nograles, Rey Umali, Geraldine Roman, and Zajid Mangudadatu), three Cabinet members (Bong Go, Harry Roque, and Francis Tolentino), and two other officials (Mocha Uson and Ronald dela Rosa), which still only adds up to 11 possible candidates (who are the missing three?).

Of all of these, the “Force” reelectionists are only fair-weather allies of the present dispensation; their setting themselves apart is about much more than the mess PDP-Laban made in, say, San Juan where support for the Zamoras makes it extremely unattractive for JV Ejercito to consider being in the same slate. Their cohesion is about thinking ahead: Creating the nucleus for the main coalition to beat in the 2022 presidential election. The contingent of congressmen and congresswomen who could become candidates for the Senate, however, seems more a means to kick the Speaker’s rivals upstairs (at least in the case of Benitez and Arroyo) and pad the candidates’ list with token but sacrificial candidates, a similar situation to the executive officials being mentioned as possible candidates (of the executive officials, only Go seems viable, but making him run would deprive the President of the man who actually runs the executive department, and would be a clear signal that the administration is shifting to a post-term protection attitude instead of the more ambitious system-change mode it’s been on, so far).

Vice President Leni Robredo has been more circumspect, saying she’s not sure the Liberal Party can even muster a full slate. The party chair, Kiko Pangilinan, denied that a list circulating online (incumbent Bam Aquino, former senators Mar Roxas, Jun Magsaysay, TG Guingona, current and former representatives Jose Christopher Belmonte, Kaka Bag-ao, Edcel Lagman, Raul Daza, Gary Alejano and Erin Tañada, former governor Eddie Panlilio and Cebu City Mayor Tomas Osmeña) had any basis in fact.

What both lists have in common is they could be surveys-on-the-cheap, trial balloons to get the public pulse. Until the 17th Congress reconvenes briefly from May 14 to June 1 for the tail end of its second regular session (only to adjourn sine die until the third regular session begins on July 23), it has nothing much to do. Except, that is, for the barangay elections in May, after a last-ditch effort by the House to postpone them yet again to October failed.

Names can be floated but the real signal will come in July, when the President mounts the rostrum and calls for the big push for a new constitution—or not. Connected to this would be whether the Supreme Court disposes of its own chief, which would spare the Senate—and thus, free up the legislative calendar—to consider Charter change instead of an impeachment trial. In the meantime, what congressmen do seem abuzz over is an unrefusable invitation to the Palace tomorrow — to mark Arroyo’s birthday. An event possibly pregnant with meaning.

The Centrist View: Back to Basics

In an era marked by deepening social divides, persistent inequality, and political uncertainty, the Philippines stands at a critical juncture in its national life. Competing ideologies vie for dominance, often pulling the nation toward extremes. Amid this turbulence, a centrist perspective — rooted in the principles of human dignity and human rights — offers a balanced and principled framework for rebuilding trust, safeguarding citizens, and renewing democratic life.

Human Dignity as the Foundation of Rights and Responsibilities

At the core of the centrist vision is the belief that every Filipino possesses inherent human dignity — not conferred by the state, but intrinsic to being human. This dignity forms the moral and legal foundation of all human rights: civil liberties, political participation, and access to essential services such as education, healthcare, and livelihood.

But dignity is more than an entitlement; it is also a responsibility. It calls on individuals not only to claim their own rights but also to respect and uphold the rights of others — in speech, in conduct, and in civic life. The Centrist View affirms that rights and responsibilities are inseparable, and that a just society depends on mutual recognition of each person’s worth.

Human Rights in a Divided Political Landscape

In recent years, human rights in the Philippines have become a flashpoint — celebrated by some as the bedrock of democracy, dismissed by others as a hindrance to order and discipline. The centrist approach resists this false binary.

Instead, it upholds human rights as non-negotiable, especially for the most vulnerable: victims of extrajudicial killings, displaced indigenous communities, and ordinary citizens left behind by corruption and impunity. At the same time, it recognizes the need to contextualize rights within the broader social fabric — considering public safety, poverty, and institutional capacity.

The absolute moral positions of the Church — opposition to abortion, divorce, and same-sex marriage — moral truths which many Filipinos adopt unquestioningly, conflict with human rights discourses or secular principles such as reproductive health, women’s rights, and LGBTQ inclusion. The war on drugs under the Duterte administration was often justified using absolute moral language — portraying drug use as an evil that must be eradicated at all cost. This moral framing enabled EJK and human rights abuses, with limited public resistance due to the perceived moral righteousness of the campaign.

The anti-corruption rhetoric (all corruption is evil) uses moral absolutism (that certain actions are inherently right or wrong regardless of context, consequences, or cultural norms) but the application of justice in the Philippines is frequently selective, exposing the hypocrisy and dangers of absolutism when wielded by those in power. Human rights violations during Martial Law (torture, illegal detentions, censorship) can be judged as morally wrong in absolute terms, regardless of the justifications of national security or economic progress. However, moral relativism is often used to justify or downplay these events, especially by those who benefit from historical revisionism or political dynasties.

The late dictator son’s administration has emphasized technocratic leadership — appointing economic managers, military officials, and political elites into key positions — often sidelining consultative, grassroots-driven policy-making. His seeming focus on stability and economic continuity is reflected in his cabinet choices; still this pragmatic approach is viewed as centralizing authority and downplays participative governance, especially from civil society organizations, marginalized sectors, and opposition voices.

The DepEd and CHED directives to revise or soften the language around martial law abuses reflect a systemic push toward historical revisionism, legitimizing the current administration while erasing past atrocities. In lieu of outright censorship, the present administration uses strategic communication and digital manipulation through troll farms, algorithmic manipulation, and disinformation campaigns, to promote a favorable image. Contrary opinions and criticisms are viewed as “fake news” and attempts to discredit the administration are seen as libelous that merit congressional inquiry, purportedly, in aid of legislation.

The administration exhibits a form of authoritarian pragmatism more subtle than the previous dictatorship but no less concerning in its long-term implications. The challenge for Filipinos today is to critically assess this pragmatism: who benefits, who is silenced, and at what cost is “progress” achieved.

The Centrist View rejects both moral absolutism and authoritarian pragmatism. It seeks to foster a culture in which human rights are not only enshrined in law but also respected in practice, and where governance is accountable, transparent, and humane.

Rebuilding Trust in Institutions and the Rule of Law

The erosion of public trust in the justice system and the prevalence of political patronage have undermined faith in democratic institutions. When laws are applied unequally — when the wealthy and powerful escape accountability while the poor face violence and neglect — human dignity suffers.

A centrist response calls for the revitalization of institutions as a moral imperative:

• A justice system that is impartial, efficient, and accessible to all;
• Security forces that serve the Constitution and the people, not personal or political interests;
• Governance that is participatory, transparent, and responsive — especially to marginalized communities.

Restoring confidence in institutions, in the Centrist View, is not only about efficiency; it is about affirming the dignity of every citizen and the credibility of democracy itself.

Social Justice Without Extremism

Despite economic growth, the Philippines continues to grapple with stark inequality, underdevelopment in rural areas, and persistent conflict in regions such as Mindanao. Politics is downplaying the gains of the Bangsamoro Autonomous region, as changes in policies are manifest in each subsequent administration. These are not just policy failures — they are affronts to human dignity.

The centrist approach to social justice promotes meaningful, targeted reforms:

• Long-term investments in quality education and healthcare as fundamental human rights;
• Genuine land reform and rural development to empower farmers and indigenous peoples;
• Inclusive and decentralized governance, particularly in historically marginalized regions.

Unlike radical ideologies that call for revolution or sweeping overhauls, the Centrist View advocates for gradual, evidence-based reforms that preserve national stability while addressing deep-rooted injustices.

Pluralism and Mutual Respect in a Diverse Nation

The Philippines is a nation of many cultures, faiths, and identities. Respecting human dignity means embracing this diversity, not suppressing it.

The centrist vision affirms that unity can only emerge from mutual respect — not forced conformity.

All Filipinos — regardless of ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, or social status — have the right to live free from discrimination and violence. Dialogue, rather than dogma, is the foundation of lasting peace and nation-building.

In this spirit, the Centrist View aligns with the universal values of human rights: that every person has the right to live, believe, speak, and participate fully in society — while also contributing to the common good.

Conclusion: A Call for Principled Moderation

The Centrist View in contemporary Philippine society is not a position of passivity or indifference. It is a call for principled moderation — an approach that seeks:

• To place human dignity at the center of policy and public life;
• To uphold human rights not as partisan slogans but as shared moral imperatives;
• To advance nation-building through inclusion, institutional reform, and civic responsibility.

In an age defined by polarization and populism, the Philippines needs a renewed commitment to moral clarity, balanced leadership, and shared humanity. In this vision, human dignity is not merely an abstract ideal — it is a living promise that belongs to every Filipino.