Impeachment: Justice or just grandstanding?

The impulse to turn off the television during the opening days of the Senate impeachment trial against Vice President Sara Duterte is not a sign of civic apathy. It is a reasonable act of self-preservation. For many citizens, watching the evening news or scrolling through social media brings on an overwhelming urge to switch the device off entirely, saving both their sanity and their expensive LED screens from the trajectory of a flying leather shoe.

What we are witnessing is a perfect microcosm of the political theater that continuously paralyzes this nation. The entire assembly—the star players, the senator-judges, the witnesses, the prosecution and defense panels, and the volunteer lawyers on both sides of the aisle—appear to be falling over each other with only one urgent objective in mind: How did I look on camera?

Grandstanding has become our premier national preoccupation. The solemn constitutional duty of public accountability has been comfortably subsumed by the relentless pursuit of the perfect soundbite and the most viral video clip.

It is impossible not to recall the wisdom of the principled former United Nations Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld, who dryly observed: “If in arguing somebody else’s cause, you are at the same time thinking of yourself, you cannot hope to succeed.”

Our legislators are tasked with arguing the cause of the republic and protecting the integrity of the Constitution. Yet, too many are clearly preoccupied with their own political survival, media exposure, and positions for the 2028 elections. At the current rate of performative preening, one wonders when this trial will ever reach a substantive conclusion, or if that is even the point. In the meantime, the principal, boring business of actually making laws remains parked on the periphery.

A glaring symptom of this exhibitionism is the way the proceedings are being conducted. There is a persistent, almost desperate effort to turn the trial into a messy, overly technical judicial circus. Impeachment is, by definition, a political exercise of accountability. While it demands basic due process, it is not strictly bound by the Rules of Court, much less Roberts Rules of Order. It was never meant to be a playground for procedural delays designed to confound, prolong, and safely confuse the public.

Furthermore, there is a fundamental misunderstanding of roles inside the plenary. The public frequently sees the proceedings treated as a solo performance, with the camera trained almost exclusively on the presiding officer. But the Constitution designates the entire Senate body as the “senator-judges.”

When an objection or motion is raised, the authority does not rest solely on a singular chair. In cases of honest disagreement, any senator-judge can challenge a ruling, and the final decision must be made by a majority vote of the members present.

Equally entertaining, if it weren’t so tragic, is the spectacle of certain senator-judges confronting witnesses with aggressive, confrontational tactics, behaving more like zealous defense lawyers or eager prosecutors. Under the rules, senator-judges are expected to maintain an impartial distance, submitting their inquiries to determine the truth rather than badgering individuals for the evening news broadcast. They are the ultimate arbiters expected to cast a vote based on the evidence adduced on record, not advocates trying to score rhetorical points for their respective bases.

To the realist, this entire exercise may seem like a foregone conclusion—a colossal, costly waste of time. The lines have already been clearly drawn, and the political arithmetic falls well short of the strict constitutional threshold required for a conviction. The target remains unyielding: a two-thirds majority of the chamber, meaning 16 out of 24 votes. With current political alignments hovering closer to a dozen certain votes for removal, an acquittal appears mathematically predetermined before the first gavel even fell.

But to conclude that the trial is entirely useless is to mistake the venue for a real court of law. As rightfully expounded by the feisty Batangas Rep. Gerville “Jinky” Luistro in her opening statement as lead prosecutor, even if a conviction is mathematically improbable, the trial’s value shifts entirely from the ultimate verdict to the permanent record.

Should the trial end in a predictable political acquittal, the evidence meticulously cross-examined and admitted into the Senate record does not simply vanish. It becomes the exact evidentiary blueprint for the Ombudsman, the Sandiganbayan, and regular courts to pursue genuine criminal and civil accountability once immunity expires and the political winds shift.

It is time for the Senate to stop the theater, tone down the styling, and remember the gravity of their oath. Even if the political numbers make a conviction unlikely, the trial remains a vital constitutional crucible. The public is looking for substance and a clear accounting of the truth, not a primetime television show.

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Atty. James Lansang is an 87-year-old private law practitioner with well over 60 years of active law practice.