

When Senator-Judges Become Defense Lawyers and Justice Becomes Political Theater
The greatest tragedy unfolding inside the impeachment court is not the exchange of legal arguments.
It is the slow death of impartiality.
An impeachment court exists for one purpose alone: to determine whether the respondent committed impeachable offenses based on evidence presented before it. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Even one member of the House of Representatives aptly reminded the public of this fundamental truth. The impeachment trial is solely about the respondent. If the evidence establishes guilt, convict. If the prosecution fails to prove its case, acquit. Any other allegations, personal grievances, political disputes, or unrelated controversies belong in the proper courts and appropriate investigations—not inside an impeachment proceeding.
That statement cuts through the noise because it reflects what the Constitution intended.
Unfortunately, what the nation has increasingly witnessed is something entirely different.
Instead of remaining focused on the Articles of Impeachment, the proceedings often drift toward political theater. Side issues dominate the headlines. Speeches replace substance. Technical objections multiply. Every hearing risks becoming an exhibition where personalities overshadow the evidence.
An impeachment court is not a campaign stage.
It is not a press conference.
It is not a venue for settling political scores.
Most of all, it is not a courtroom where senator-judges transform themselves into volunteer members of the defense panel whenever political allies occupy the respondent’s chair.
Every subpoena suddenly becomes a constitutional crisis.
Every witness becomes the accused.
Every request for evidence is portrayed as an attack on democracy.
Yet when political opponents face scrutiny, the language abruptly changes. Transparency becomes the rallying cry. Accountability becomes urgent. Public interest suddenly outweighs every claim of confidentiality.
Justice cannot have two standards—one for allies and another for adversaries.
The Constitution certainly does not.
Equally disturbing was the public spectacle of a prosecution witness being mocked with labels instead of being confronted with facts. Rather than dismantling testimony through evidence or exposing inconsistencies through disciplined questioning, ridicule was allowed to occupy center stage.
But courtroom insults are not evidence.
Nicknames are not legal arguments.
Sarcasm is not cross-examination.
The witness responded with restraint, saying he took no offense because such remarks reflected more on the one who uttered them than on the person receiving them. He emphasized that he came to the impeachment court for only one reason—to testify under oath and present the facts gathered through the investigation conducted by his office.
That answer spoke louder than the insult.
Because facts require no theatrics.
Evidence needs no nickname.
Truth does not depend on applause.
The Filipino people deserve senator-judges who remember that they are constitutional arbiters—not political advocates, not alliance managers, and certainly not substitute defense lawyers.
Every respondent deserves due process.
Every prosecutor deserves a fair hearing.
Every witness deserves respect.
Most importantly, every Filipino deserves an impeachment court whose loyalty belongs exclusively to the Constitution—not to political friendships, coalition agreements, or personal alliances.
History will not remember who delivered the longest speech or the cleverest procedural objection.
History will remember whether those entrusted to judge acted like impartial magistrates—or like defense lawyers wearing judicial robes.
Because the moment justice begins asking, “Whose ally is this?” before asking, “What do the facts prove?”, the verdict has already been compromised.
And when political loyalty consistently outweighs constitutional duty, the impeachment court itself stands on trial.
That is the real crisis facing our democracy.
Not the subpoenas.
Not the witnesses.
Not the speeches.
But the death of impartiality.
