Instrument of last resort
This is what we forget about impeachment. It was intended to be the instrument of last resort, the “break glass in case of emergency” system when a society was confronted by an otherwise-unstoppable instance of unfitness for office. We have forgotten this aspect of impeachment because, by design, the framers of our present Constitution decided to make it easier rather than harder, apparently taking a cue from the endlessly amended 1973 Constitution (while forgetting this was a cosmetic allowance since it was a constitution designed for a single-party state for all intents and purposes).
The Supreme Court, for all its self-interest (but then, nothing is more effective as a motivator than self-interest, self-preservation being the most basic of instincts), can be said to be trying to use its powers to channel impeachment away from what it perceives as a system for political lynching or mob rule, toward something more regulated and sedate like its own proceedings. In other words, it’s what the politically ignorant do, when confronted with politics. To be precise: it is what those no longer imbued with the thinking of the Age of Enlightenment do when confronted by one of its artifacts, which is what impeachment is–not merely an artifact of Anglo-Saxon parliamentary practice, but of the Enlightenment Age debates during the founding of the American republic.
What both the framers of the current Constitution and its manglers in the institutions that it chartered have in common, is an undercurrent of distrust both in public opinion and in popular democracy which has, at its heart, the creation of, and thus respect for, majority rule while safeguarding minorities from persecution. Instead, minorities are placed above majorities, even institutions: so the framers wanted legislation that could originate outside Congress, impeachments mounted by minorities, limits on terms and on who can run for office, instead of leaving it to the electorate to decide; in decreeing a multiparty system without runoff elections, it practically made electoral majorities–which is a fundamental requirement for mandates to be respected—impossible to achieve.
And yet it seems to me the legitimacy of impeachment has been fostered over the years we’ve resorted to it. The epidemic of performative impeachment attempts against former President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (who gave a counterdemonstration in bare-knuckled coalition management, while also adopting the Marcosian Theory of Political Law: The Right Loophole Will Always Beat the Noblest Intention) taught us impeachments aren’t supposed to be easy.
The impeachments that did succeed after former President Joseph Estrada, particularly that of Renato Corona, proved legitimate because of something no one noticed at the time. They hewed closer to impeachment as it was understood before 1973, than its warped evolution since then.
We should pause to think that had the rules been different, could Vice President Sara Duterte still have been impeached? Under the 1935 Constitution, a two-thirds majority is needed to impeach, and three-fourths majority in the Senate to convict. Earlier (1935-1940), when the 1935 Constitution still provided for a unicameral National Assembly, impeachment was decided in a special Commission on Impeachment in that body; two-thirds of its members had to approve any articles of impeachment, while conviction required three-fourths of the entire National Assembly.
Under the 1973 Constitution, with its unicameral legislature, the bar required to impeach was lowered significantly. One-fifth of the Batasan was needed to impeach, and two-thirds of the Batasan was needed to convict. The present Constitution requires one-third of the House to impeach, and two-thirds of the Senate to convict, a decision that made impeachment and conviction significantly easier, politically speaking.
When the House impeached Estrada, it exceeded the minimum one third needed by 29 votes, but this was less than half of its members; when it impeached Corona, however, exactly two-thirds of the House voted to impeach him.
Ronald Llamas’ estimate of the actual voting in plenary is a low of 190 and a high of 230, which means, at a minimum, just above a simple majority (160 votes) and at maximum, exceeding a two-thirds majority (which would be 212 votes) and very close to (but still slightly below) a three-fourths majority (239 votes). In other words, if at least 212 representatives vote to impeach the Vice President, even by the requirements of the 1935 and 1973 Constitutions, the Veep would’ve been impeached.
A low success is still formidable: a majority is a majority, but a high success sends a powerful message since ours is still a representative democracy. To a certain extent, it explains why Estrada being toppled at Edsa could be followed by an urban insurrection that sprouted in the same place, only to destroy itself at the gates of the presidential palace for lack of leadership.
And why the Supreme Court had to exact its revenge by resorting to its own rules, which do not admit the participation of other institutions.
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Email: mlquezon3@gmail.com; Twitter: @mlq3
