The Senate’s close call
History will remember May 26, 2026 as the night when the “tyranny of the majority” faltered, reason prevailed by the skin of its teeth, and 11 senators narrowly foiled an assault on the last remnants of the Senate’s integrity.
By the slimmest of margins, the once-proud chamber teetered close to becoming a sanctuary for outlaws, as the majority bloc attempted to bulldoze a rule change for an immediate and unmistakable purpose: to allow senators evading arrest to continue wielding the powers of public office from somewhere beyond the reach of the law.
Had the maneuver succeeded, the Senate would have paved the way for fugitive Sen. Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa to participate in plenary sessions and cast votes while avoiding the service of an arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court.
More alarming, it would have given him the ability to influence, from the comfort of his hiding place, the looming impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte.
A strategic walkout
The newly formed minority bloc can take pride in holding the line and saving the Senate from itself. By staging a strategic walkout as Minority Leader Sen. Vicente Sotto III held down the fort and challenged the quorum, they forced the majority to endure the humiliation of adjourning empty-handed, their plans abruptly halted. It was a rare moment in the legislature when resistance took the form of retreat.
But what a close call.
If Sen. Francis Escudero, the lone absentee among the majority senators, had shown up, there would have been just enough members on the floor for a quorum. “They may have superior numbers but we have the rules on our side,” Sen. Panfilo Lacson said afterward. “When they in the majority play dirty, we in the minority will play it smart.”
Led by Sen. Rodante Marcoleta and Senate President Alan Peter Cayetano, the majority had steamrolled the online voting amendment through a plenary vote, despite the absence of a committee report and the rules panel remaining unconstituted since the May 11 coup.
Cayetano pushed to divide the house, leaving the minority with no option but to head for the exit. The majority’s goal was painfully clear–to protect political allies facing legal jeopardy.
Aside from Dela Rosa, Marcoleta faces a plunder complaint for accepting over P75 million in campaign donations, while Senators Jinggoy Estrada, Joel Villanueva, and Escudero are under similar scrutiny over the flood control scam.
Power to amend rules
Why these senators are suddenly so eager to authorize remote participation is obvious, as they may soon find themselves detained, hiding, or otherwise unable to be present in the Senate’s august halls.
“I have never seen this kind of bastusan [indecency] in the history of the Senate,” former Senate President Franklin Drilon said, adding: “In our history, this is [called] tyranny of the majority.”
The Senate majority certainly has the power to amend its rules, but such power does not erase its obligation to follow due process, and senators cannot rewrite the rules overnight to rescue political allies from the consequences of the law.
Especially not in the context of impeachment.
An impeachment court derives its legitimacy not only from the 1987 Constitution but from public confidence that senators will act fairly and impartially. When the public sees these legislators try to strong-arm procedure before the trial, that confidence turns to smoke.
Equally dishonest are attempts to paint the minority as hypocritical by invoking the past case of former Sen. Leila de Lima, whose situation couldn’t be more different.
A slap in the face
First, the proposal to allow De Lima remote participation arose during the COVID-19 pandemic, when teleconferencing became a necessity. There is no national emergency today. Second, De Lima surrendered to authorities, faced trial, and never went into hiding. Third, those earlier proposals were never railroaded in the dead of night but referred through proper channels and ultimately languished in committee.
The distinction matters because majority senators are keen to grant the privilege that was denied De Lima, who did nothing unlawful then, to Dela Rosa, who is actively breaking the law now.
One need not look at precedents to see the absurdity. Consider the millions of Filipinos who report to work every day, braving the searing heat and weathering the inconveniences of daily commute and soaring fuel prices just to earn a living.
Compare that to the proposal of Cayetano and his allies to allow a fugitive senator to lounge in the shadows and shape policy in front of a screen from who knows where.
It is a slap in the face to every working citizen.
The Senate once stood as the last reliable gatekeeper of democracy and the rule of law. On Tuesday, a handful of senators stepped into the breach against colleagues willing to reduce the chamber to a refuge for wanted men desperate for self-preservation.
That night, the line held. Barely.
