Sara Duterte Impeachment: Political Downfall of a Once-Untouchable Power Player

The kapeng barako’s brewing strong this morning, its bitter warmth filling my cup. Outside, the air is still, the distant bark of dogs the only sound breaking the quiet.

Sara Duterte—Vice President, political bruiser, Duterte dynasty’s torchbearer—is all over my screen. Once full of fire and defiance, now running to the Supreme Court, pleading for an intervention like a child running to nanay after a playground fight. It’s her right, her strategy—but with 240 lawmakers voting to impeach her, her political barkada has abandoned her.

Abandoned, just like that.

I’m an outsider, far from Manila’s chaos, sipping and scrolling through this storm that’s got me hooked. How does power flip so fast?

Grab your cup, settle in—let’s pick through this mess together, one thought at a time.

The Spark: A “Defective” Process?

Sara Duterte isn’t just fighting impeachment—she’s fighting how it happened.

Her Supreme Court petition, filed on February 18, claims the House of Representatives rushed the process, ignored verification steps, skipped proper deliberation, and left her no real chance to defend herself. Her lawyers call it unconstitutional. A violation of due process. A railroad job.

But you know what is also unconstitutional?

Burning through ₱125 million in taxpayer money in just 11 days and refusing to explain where it went.

That’s what happened in 2022 when the Office of the Vice President, under Sara Duterte, spent its confidential funds at lightning speed. The Commission on Audit (COA) flagged it, lawmakers demanded an explanation, and Duterte? She flat-out refused to answer.

"I will not explain," she said.

When you hold public office, that’s not how it works. You don’t just spend hundreds of millions in taxpayer money and then act like accountability is optional.

And that, more than anything, is what made her impeachment not just a political play, but an inevitability.

The Silence: Where Were Her Allies?

For someone once seen as untouchable, Sara Duterte now stands alone.

Not a single pro-Sara faction in Congress put up a real fight. Not even her allies from Mindanao, the same ones who rode the Duterte wave to power. The 240 solon vote wasn’t just a political attack—it was a mass desertion.

But this isn’t surprising. This is how the game is played.

In Philippine politics, alliances aren’t built on ideology or loyalty. They’re built on convenience and survival. Politicians shift sides as easily as they change campaign slogans, always aligning themselves with whoever holds the power.

And right now, that’s not Sara Duterte.

Many of these lawmakers were once loyal to the Dutertes—not because they believed in their vision, but because Rodrigo Duterte was in Malacañang, and power flowed through him. Now that it’s Marcos Jr. who holds the reins, they’ve adjusted accordingly.

Still, not everyone has abandoned her.

Senator Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa has remained loyal—not necessarily to Sara, but to the Duterte family as a whole. Bong Go, Rodrigo Duterte’s ever-loyal shadow, hasn’t turned his back either, though his statements carefully balance support with political caution. Marcoleta, known for his aggressive questioning in Congress, still stands by the Duterte name, unwilling to detach himself from the bloc just yet.

Then there’s Imee Marcos, who seems to be playing both sides—showing gestures of goodwill toward Sara, like visiting her aide in the hospital, yet never fully committing to defending her. A delicate balancing act, maybe. A waiting game, definitely.

And of course, Robin Padilla, who is technically in Sara’s corner. But is there even a point in describing him? As a senator, the guy is worthless.

One key figure who remains fiercely loyal is former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Unlike Padilla, Arroyo actually matters—she’s a powerbroker, a survivor of Philippine politics, and someone who knows when to pick a fight. She has long aligned herself with the Dutertes, helping broker deals and manage backroom alliances. If Sara still has any real influence left in Congress, it’s likely because Arroyo is pulling strings in the background.

But while Sara is losing allies, Rodrigo Duterte still has his own circle.

The senatoriables closely tied to him are now under fire, not just for their loyalty to the former president, but because of their unwavering pro-China stance. What was once framed as strategic diplomacy has now become a political curse—the reason they’re being branded as traitors.

Their position on China has become a noose tied to a rock, pulling them underwater. They are stuck, unable to pivot without alienating their base, but also knowing that staying the course could sink them.

Power shifts fast when you’re on the losing end.

The Rumor Mill: Deals Behind the Signatures?

When 240 lawmakers sign off on an impeachment, you have to wonder—did they all truly believe in it, or was something else at play?

The whispers started almost immediately. Social media posts claimed lawmakers were offered something in exchange for their signatures—maybe district funds, maybe political favors. The more outrageous rumors put the price at ₱150 million per solon. True? Exaggerated? No one knows.

Lawmakers have, of course, denied everything. Rep. Lordan Suan called it “fake news.” Others insist they voted purely on constitutional grounds. But history tells us otherwise. Pork barrel politics isn’t a conspiracy theory here—it’s a well-documented tradition.

And look at the timing. Some PDP-Laban members, previously aligned with Duterte, have already jumped ship to Lakas-CMD, the party led by House Speaker Martin Romualdez. Coincidence, or calculated move?

Even if no one admits it, one thing is clear: a signature carries weight. And weight comes with a price.

The Bigger Picture: Power, Not Procedure

Sara Duterte’s impeachment is many things, but a fight over legal technicalities? That’s just the surface.

Forget the debates on due process. Forget the rushed proceedings. This is about power, plain and simple.

To me, Sara’s political career ended a long time ago—not now, not even at the start of her rift with Bongbong. Her biggest mistake? Agreeing to the deal. She underestimated the Marcoses, and now, her and her family’s dream of a political dynasty is about to end.

And let’s not pretend this is just about corruption or due process.

The Dutertes are a threat—not just to Marcos’s presidency but to whatever long-term plans his family has.

Sara’s biggest problem? Every time she opened her mouth, she dug a deeper grave. Her public outbursts, her reckless fights, and her well-publicized video threatening to have Marcos, the First Lady, and the Speaker of the House assassinated sealed her fate. She later brushed it off as conditional, but the damage was done. You don’t come back from that.

She may be fighting for survival now. But to my observation?

Philippine politics doesn’t work that way.

Politicians don’t stay down forever. They regroup, they rebrand, they strike when the timing is right.

Marcos may have the upper hand now, but history has a way of bringing back those who refuse to stay buried.

The real question is: what happens when she tries to come back?

Because if history has taught us anything, it’s that in Philippine politics, no one stays buried forever.