Photo Courtesy: DOJ
In the grand theater of Philippine politics, what was once speculation has now unfolded into undeniable reality — the collusion of the three branches of government no longer hides behind curtains. The latest appointment of former DOJ Secretary, now Ombudsman Boying Remulla, is not a triumph of merit but a symbol of political manipulation at its finest. It completes the triangle of deceit, where justice, legislation, and executive power move in perfect sync — not to serve the people, but to protect their own.
This, dear readers, is the anatomy of a failed state — where accountability is murdered in broad daylight, and impunity is worn like a badge of honor.
How insulting it is, truly, that the Filipino people are being treated like spectators in a tragic circus. The “drama” of reform, the “dialogue” of transparency, the “show” of investigations — all smoke and mirrors crafted to downplay the truth. We are not naive. We see the same faces, the same family names, the same puppet strings — woven tightly around the neck of our democracy.
The very office that should stand as the last bastion of fairness — the Ombudsman — has now been politicized, weaponized, and sterilized. Instead of ensuring justice, it shields allies from the consequences of their corruption. It’s no coincidence that those who should be held accountable are conveniently insulated, while critics are harassed, silenced, or demonized.
And what of the Congress, led by the President’s cousin, the former Speaker? The legislative branch has become a rubber stamp — a factory of approval for whatever agenda the Palace dictates. Laws are crafted not for the common good, but for political convenience and protection.
Meanwhile, the Executive — the supposed driver of national progress — has mastered the art of playing victim and savior at once. They cry foul when questioned, yet flaunt power with arrogance. They dramatize public service, yet delay action in moments of real crisis. Theatrics, nothing more — all at the expense of a people exhausted from decades of false promises.
This government, in its totality, has become an echo chamber of dishonesty and indifference. Every appointment, every decision reeks of self-preservation, not public service. And the Filipino, once hopeful and patient, is now cornered between disbelief and despair.
When the justice system bends for the powerful, when lawmakers legislate for their kin, and when the presidency is reduced to a family enterprise — then democracy is no longer alive; it’s merely staged.
The time has come for us to stop applauding the circus. To demand integrity where there is deceit. To speak truth even when truth is inconvenient. Because silence, in times like these, is not neutrality — it is complicity.
The question now is not how we got here, but how much longer we will allow this farce to continue.
