When Justice Meets Politics: Lessons from Corona’s Trial and Sara Duterte’s Impeachment Battle

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 

I. A Nation on Trial—Then and Now

I still remember the day Renato Corona took the stand. I even wrote a blog about my reflection on the trial entitled “Force to Resign or Impeach.” The Senate was full, the TV was on in nearly every Filipino home, and people were discussing the Constitution over coffee for the first time in years. Corona, the Chief Justice of the land, was being impeached—live, raw, and historic. In 2012, we were observing the full manifestation of democracy. But it wasn’t just about the trial. The clash between power and principle shaped our identity as a people.

In 2025, the country finds itself engulfed in yet another constitutional crisis. Vice President Sara Duterte finds herself at the center of this constitutional crisis. Complaints have been filed. Questions about confidential funds, political overreach, and misuse of power fill the headlines. But just as quickly as the storm gathered, the Supreme Court stepped in with a ruling: No more impeachment cases for the VP this year. The reason? The Constitution is clear—only one impeachment proceeding per official per year.

The ruling caused significant ripples. While some felt vindicated, others expressed disapproval. But as someone who has lived through both moments—Corona’s downfall and Duterte’s legal shield—I believe it’s time we ask the more profound question: What are we really learning as a nation from all this?

 

II. Lesson One: The Law Must Always Come First

During Corona’s trial, many believed he was being targeted for political reasons—especially with his ties to then-President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo and his involvement in the Hacienda Luisita decision. However, the crucial point was that he neglected to reveal millions in his SALN. That wasn’t hearsay. It was a constitutional violation. So, regardless of his politics, he was removed.

That trial taught us something painful but powerful: The Constitution should matter more than the person.

With Vice President Duterte, the story is more complex. Multiple complaints were filed, but in July 2025, the Supreme Court reminded everyone of a simple truth: Only one impeachment case can proceed per year against the same official. That rule wasn’t made to protect the powerful—it was designed to protect the process from being abused.

Even if you believe Sara Duterte should respond to more allegations, we must adhere to the legal process. Otherwise, we risk turning impeachment into a circus, not a safeguard.

 

III. Lesson Two: It’s Not About Noise—It’s About Proof

I won’t forget how messy the Corona prosecution team was at the beginning. They had media backing, but their case was riddled with unverified documents, confusing testimonies, and emotional arguments. If the defense hadn’t stumbled in key areas, the outcome might have been different. They eventually won—but barely.

Now, with Duterte’s case, we’re seeing something similar. Complaints were filed rapidly, some overlapping, some rushed. Despite the sincere intention, the case could not stand without solid evidence and appropriate legal framing.

So here’s the lesson: Impeachment is not a popularity contest. It’s a legal battle. And if we want justice, we need to fight with precision—not passion alone.

 

IV. Lesson Three: Watchdogs Still Matter

When Corona was on trial, people were glued to their TVs. Senate sessions were broadcast live, and for the first time, civic organizations, lawyers, and even tricycle drivers were dissecting legal arguments. The trial didn’t just put a man on the stand—it educated a nation.

In 2025, it’s different. Social media has taken over, and with it comes noise—lots of it. Misinformation rapidly disseminates, trolls stifle legitimate inquiries, and political spin obscures the truth. Still, watchdogs like the IBP, the UP Law Center, and some brave journalists have stepped up to explain the Supreme Court ruling and clarify what’s at stake.

We need them. Institutions alone cannot sustain democracy; citizen vigilance is essential.

 

V. Lesson Four: An Impeachment Trial Isn’t the Finish Line

After Corona was removed, many believed the judiciary would be instantly cleaner and the political system magically more honest. That didn’t happen. SALN compliance saw a brief improvement, but did systemic reform occur? Not really.

Now, in Duterte’s case, even though her impeachment has been halted, we must ask: what happens next? Do we go back to silence? Or do we push for changes in how confidential funds are audited? Shouldn’t this event be the moment we talk seriously about transparency in executive spending?

Regardless of the outcome, the impeachment process should instigate long-term reform, not just temporary noise.

 

VI. Lesson Five: Power Will Always Try to Influence Justice

One thing that worried people during Corona’s trial was the apparent pressure from then-President Noynoy Aquino’s camp. Many believed the executive branch wanted Corona out to ensure the Aquino administration’s legislative agenda—including the handling of Hacienda Luisita—would go unchallenged.

Today, the concern is reversed. The Duterte family, after all, appointed several justices in the Supreme Court. So when the Court ruled that no further impeachment complaints could proceed this year against the VP, some people cried foul. They asked, “Is the judiciary still independent?”

To be clear, the Supreme Court was technically right. The Constitution does say what it says. But public trust isn’t just built on legality—it’s built on perception. If people believe the system is rigged, then even a correct decision feels unjust.

So what’s the lesson? Power must always be watched. Closely. No matter who wields it.

 

VII. Final Reflection: Our Role as Citizens

At the heart of both the Corona and Duterte impeachments is one truth: This isn’t just about them. It’s about us.

It’s about how much we care about due process. About how well we know our Constitution. About whether we’re willing to hold power accountable without bias. About whether we’ll stand for justice even when it’s inconvenient.

The Supreme Court’s ruling may have put a pause on the Duterte impeachment for now, but that doesn’t mean the conversation is over. In fact, it should only be beginning. If there’s wrongdoing, let’s gather facts—not Facebook posts. Let’s prepare airtight cases—not viral hashtags. Let’s build institutions that don’t need heroes—just laws that are obeyed.

Because at the end of the day, whether we’re talking about a Chief Justice or a Vice President, it’s not about who sits in power—it’s about what kind of country we want to be.

 

References:

• Supreme Court of the Philippines. (2025, July 15). G.R. No. 267891: Decision on Impeachment Complaints Against Vice President Sara Duterte. https://sc.judiciary.gov.ph

• La Viña, T. L. (2012). 8 Lessons from the Corona impeachment trial. https://tonylavina.wordpress.com

• Pangalangan, P. C. (2012). Corona’s impeachment and the judicial-political crossroads. Philippine Law Journal, 86(1), 1–12.

• Rappler. (2012). Corona found guilty by the Senate. https://www.rappler.com

• BenarNews. (2025). Calls for Duterte’s impeachment ignite political firestorm. https://www.benarnews.org

• Tribune. (2025). Sara Duterte impeachment: Was it rushed? https://tribune.net.ph

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*About the author:
Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission

Cultivating Whole-hearted Citizens: A Human-Centered Story of Holistic Education

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 

A Story, Not Just a Theory

Let me begin with a story. I recently met Dolfina, a bright yet often distracted high school senior in San Mateo, Rizal. She was always glued to her phone, navigating a sea of social media trends, buried in AI-generated content, and constantly anxious about grades and her future. But everything began to change when her school introduced a new, heart-centered curriculum: one that included liberal arts, ROTC-inspired training, industrial arts, home economics, and Good Manners and Right Conduct (GMRC).

Over time, I watched Dolfina transform—from a screen-tethered teen into a self-aware, responsible, and patriotic young woman. Her story isn’t rare—it’s a testimony to how holistic education can shape not just students, but the soul of a nation.

 

Liberal Arts: Lighting the Mind

Dolfina’s journey began with reading José Rizal’s letters, Bonifacio’s manifestos, and excerpts from Filipino scholars and philosophers. These weren’t just reading assignments—they were awakenings. She learned how to ask difficult questions, reason through conflicting opinions, and reflect deeply on civic duty and justice (Satchanawakul, 2025; Zampella, 2024).

Through liberal arts, Dolfina began to understand that being educated isn’t just about facts—it’s about knowing who you are, where you come from, and what kind of future you want to shape.

Military Training: Discipline and Love for Country

Through military training modules, based on a revived and redefined ROTC program, Dolfina learned something unexpected: that discipline wasn’t a punishment—it was empowerment. Whether she was learning first aid, participating in rescue simulations, or helping clean up a flooded neighborhood, she found pride in structure and service (Legaspi, 2022).

She no longer viewed patriotism as a vague ideal. It became a daily practice—showing up, stepping up, and giving back.

Industrial Arts & Home Economics: Learning by Doing

In her industrial arts class, Dolfina designed a water-saving device for her school garden. In home economics, she learned to plan healthy meals and manage a household budget. These skills weren’t about gender roles—they were about survival, dignity, and pride in work (Del Mundo, 2022; Soriano, 2022).

For the first time, she saw manual skills not as secondary but as equally valuable to academic achievements.

 

Good Manners & Right Conduct: Heartwork, Not Homework

Perhaps the most profound change came from the GMRC classes. Dolfina started treating others with greater kindness—offering her seat to elders, apologizing sincerely, and refusing to join in gossip. When she faced peer pressure to cheat in an online exam, she stood firm. Integrity, she realized, is built in the small, quiet decisions we make every day (Pimentel, 2022).

These moments helped her internalize a sense of moral compass—one that wouldn’t easily sway with trends or temptation.

 

Technology and the Digital Dilemma

Of course, her journey wasn’t without its challenges. AI tools made it easy to shortcut assignments. Social media spread fake news faster than facts. Dolfina even stumbled upon deepfakes and disinformation about Philippine history (Mazurczyk et al., 2023; Shanmugasundaram, 2023).

Thankfully, the same holistic curriculum taught her how to cross-check information, manage screen time, and stay rooted in truth. Digital literacy became part of her defense system—alongside critical thinking and moral clarity (Huang et al., 2024; Pérez-Juárez et al., 2024).

 

A Student, A Nation

The story of Dolfina is, in many ways, the story of our youth. Caught between fast-evolving technology and slow-changing social values, many students feel lost. But there is hope—when education shifts from simply filling minds to shaping character, from test scores to life purpose.

With the right curriculum, students like Dolfina become more than just achievers—they become responsible citizens with a deep love of country, respect for others, and a reverential fear of wrongdoing.

 

What Must Be Done

To ensure every Filipino student gets the same chance at transformation, the following steps are crucial:

 • Institutionalize GMRC in all grade levels to foster values-based decision-making (Pimentel, 2022).

 • Revive ROTC and civic service with emphasis on nation-building rather than militarism (Legaspi, 2022).

 • Expand access to industrial arts and home economics, particularly in underserved areas (Del Mundo, 2022; Soriano, 2022).

 • Elevate liberal arts education as essential for democracy, human rights, and critical thinking (Satchanawakul, 2025; Zampella, 2024).

 • Implement nationwide digital literacy programs, especially among Gen Z learners (Santos & Cruz, 2024; Mazurczyk et al., 2023).

 

From One Dolfina to a Generation

Dolfina is now applying to volunteer with a youth civic group and hopes to study community development in college. Her change wasn’t instant, but it was profound—and it began with the courage of her school to teach not just academics but life itself.

Multiply her by a million and imagine the future of our nation: empathetic, critical thinkers who serve their communities with courage and conscience.

Final Thoughts: Teaching the Heart

Our children live in a time where shortcuts are everywhere and silence is often rewarded. Yet we must teach them otherwise—that character still matters, that service still inspires, and that love of country isn’t outdated—it’s the foundation of everything positive.

Holistic education is not a luxury. It is a necessity for any nation that dreams of peace, progress, and genuine democracy.

Let us not just produce professionals—but patriots. Not just skilled workers—but wise and ethical citizens. In every Dolfina, there is a future. We only need to teach with heart, guide with values, and believe in what they can become.

 

References

Del Mundo, M. (2022). Home Economics and community empowerment. Philippine Journal of Educational Development, 9(1), 10–25.

Huang, S. et al. (2024). AI technology dependence and mental health among adolescents. Journal of Adolescent Mental Health, 58(4), 112–125.

Legaspi, A. (2022). Reviving ROTC for youth empowerment. Philippine Defense Review, 6(1), 33–46.

Mazurczyk, W. et al. (2023). Deepfakes and AI disinformation threats. Journal of Cybersecurity and Society.

Pérez‑Juárez, M. Á. et al. (2024). Digital distractions in higher education. Smart Learning Environments.

Pimentel, J. (2022). The return of GMRC in Philippine schools. Educational Insights Philippines, 7(3), 48–60.

Sanchez, C. & Cruz, M. B. (2024). Effects of AI use in student research. Globus Journal of Progressive Education, 14(1), 46–55.

Satchanawakul, N. (2025). The evolution of liberal arts education in Asia. Asian Journal of Higher Education.

Shanmugasundaram, M. (2023). Digital technology’s impact on cognition and self-control. Frontiers in Cognition, 7, 120307.

Soriano, H. (2022). Technical‑vocational education in rural communities. Development Horizons, 10(4), 41–58.

Zampella, T. (2024). Importance of liberal arts in disruptive change. Educational Research Quarterly.

Zhai, L. et al. (2024). AI writing tools and academic integrity. Journal of Education Ethics.

Understanding the Difference Among Political Party Merger, Coalition, and Alliance: A Case Reflection on the Collapse of Alyansa ng Bagong Pilipinas

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope

Introduction

In the often chaotic rhythm of Philippine politics, many people have become familiar with shifting loyalties, recycled slogans, and sudden political alliances. What we are less familiar with, however, are the deeper structures that shape those changes. The words “merger,” “coalition,” and “alliance” are often tossed around during interviews and campaign launches, yet most Filipinos are never really told what they truly mean—or why it matters.

This lack of clarity is more than just academic. It has real consequences. The Alyansa ng Bagong Pilipinas (ABP)—a political movement that once inspired hope for genuine reform—is a perfect example. Its collapse wasn’t simply because of external opposition but because of its own internal confusion, timing, and structural flaws.

Thus, there is a need to break down the differences among mergers, coalitions, and alliances, and by reflecting on the rise and fall of ABP—what it promised, what it failed to protect, and what future movements must learn.

 

Defining the Basics: Not All Political Agreements Are the Same

Before diving into the story of ABP, it’s important to understand the basic differences between a party merger, a coalition, and an alliance. While they may sound similar, each serves a different purpose in the political world.

A party merger is the most formal and legally binding of the three. It’s when two or more parties decide to dissolve themselves and form a completely new entity. This involves shared leadership, shared ideology, and a brand-new identity. It takes time, legal paperwork, and a serious commitment to unity (Dela Cruz, 2015).

A coalition, on the other hand, is more of a practical arrangement. It usually happens when different political parties decide to work together—often for elections or legislative work—without giving up their individual identities. Coalitions can be strong or fragile, depending on how clearly the rules are defined (Torres, 2015).

An alliance is the most informal. It’s usually built on mutual interests or convenience. Unlike a coalition or a merger, alliances don’t always require documentation or shared goals beyond short-term political advantage. They’re often personality-driven and tend to dissolve as quickly as they form, if there is no commonality of interest and shared vision.

In the Philippines, these distinctions are often blurred. This was one of the key problems ABP faced.

 

ABP: A Movement Born Out of Reform and Frustration

When the 2022 elections ushered in the administration of President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and Vice President Sara Duterte, there was a sense of both optimism and uncertainty. On one side, Marcos Jr.’s promise of a “Bagong Pilipinas” stirred a desire for modernization and reform. On the other, many were anxious about what would happen to the Duterte legacy, particularly in the areas of human rights and governance.

It was during this transitional moment that the Alyansa ng Bagong Pilipinas (ABP) was born. ABP wasn’t a traditional political party. It was a broad movement of professionals, youth leaders, civil society groups, and some former officials who felt that real systemic change was still possible—if not through traditional parties, then through a united reformist front.

Its platform included ambitious goals: eradicating corruption, promoting federalism, pushing for education reform, protecting the environment, and reviving Filipino values. These goals were attractive to people tired of political theatrics and dynastic control. But even with all its promise, ABP failed to do the one thing that mattered most: define itself clearly.

 

The Identity Crisis: What Exactly Was ABP?

From the beginning, ABP struggled with its own identity. Was it aiming to become a new political party? Was it a coalition of groups working toward reform? Or was it just a temporary alliance for the 2025 elections?

Different leaders within ABP had different answers. Some pushed for registration as a formal political party, complete with a constitution and membership rules. Others feared that this would alienate existing allies from other parties and insisted that ABP remain a loose coalition. Still others treated it as a convenient platform to boost their public profiles ahead of the next elections.

Without a unified answer, ABP became vulnerable. Local chapters sprung up without central coordination. Public figures joined without ideological vetting. Traditional politicians—many of whom had been part of the problem ABP was trying to solve—started using the alliance to clean up their public image.

What was once a hopeful movement slowly began to feel like just another political vehicle.

 

The Political Earthquake: Impeachment and Arrest

While ABP wrestled with its internal confusion, the Philippine political landscape was rocked by events that no one had fully anticipated.

In late 2024, Vice President Sara Duterte faced serious impeachment complaints. She was accused of misusing confidential funds and undermining her working relationship with President Marcos Jr. These complaints gained traction, and by early 2025, she became the first vice president in Philippine history to be impeached (Bagayas, 2025; Thornton, 2025).

Around the same time, the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued and enforced an arrest warrant for former President Rodrigo Duterte. He was flown to The Hague to face charges related to human rights violations during his administration’s controversial war on drugs (ICC, 2025; HRW, 2025).

These events shook the Duterte political camp to its core. Many of their longtime allies were suddenly looking for a new political home—and some saw ABP as that home.

This influx of displaced political actors into ABP might have seemed like a victory. In truth, it marked the beginning of the end. With no strong vetting process in place, the movement was overwhelmed by personalities who had little interest in its original ideals. Reformists either left or were pushed aside.

 

Lessons from ABP’s Collapse

So, what really caused ABP to fall apart?

First, it lacked clarity of purpose. Was it a merger, a coalition, or an alliance? Without defining itself properly, it could not set boundaries or make strategic decisions.

Second, it had no internal structure. There was no governing body to enforce discipline or to keep members accountable. This made it easy for opportunists to hijack the platform.

Third, it lacked ideological screening. Anyone could join, regardless of whether they truly believed in the movement’s mission. This diluted its message and eroded public trust.

If there’s one painful truth the ABP experience teaches us, it’s this: good intentions are not enough. In Philippine politics, if you’re not structurally prepared, you will be swallowed by the very system you’re trying to reform.

 

Comparisons and Missed Opportunities

ABP’s experience is not unique. Other movements have gone through similar cycles. The Koalisyon ng Katapatan at Karanasan sa Kinabukasan (K4) in 2004 worked as a temporary coalition that successfully backed President Arroyo. It served its purpose and dissolved afterward—no confusion there (Reyes, 2015).

The United Nationalist Alliance (UNA) under Jejomar Binay had a more ambitious vision but failed due to leadership clashes and weak party-building (Villanueva, 2015).

Had ABP learned from these examples, it might have avoided many of its mistakes.

 

Reform Movements in a Dynasty-Driven System

The sad reality is that reform movements like ABP operate in a system rigged against them. Political dynasties still dominate local and national governance. Research shows that family-based political power is not only surviving—it’s growing (Acuna et al., 2024). These dynasties are skilled at adapting, forming new alliances, and even co-opting reformist language when it suits them.

In such a system, unstructured movements are easy prey. Without legal status, without leadership training, without an ideology people can cling to, movements like ABP become stepping stones for career politicians—not engines of change.

Worse, when these movements fail, they leave behind a trail of disillusionment. People who once believed in change become more cynical, thinking that maybe reform is impossible after all.

 

Moving Forward: What Must Be Done

Despite its collapse, ABP left behind valuable lessons for those who dare to dream of political reform in the Philippines.

Movements must be clear from the start about who they are and what they want to become. They must establish internal rules and structures, no matter how inconvenient or tedious that might seem. They must screen their members, protect their identity, and never compromise on their values just for visibility.

They must also communicate with the people consistently and transparently. The moment a movement loses its moral clarity or looks like it’s just another political brand, it begins to lose the trust of those who believed in it.

And above all, they must remember: movements take time. ABP may have risen too fast—relying on the momentum of the moment instead of building the muscles of sustainability.

 

Conclusion

The story of Alyansa ng Bagong Pilipinas is both a cautionary tale and a call to action. It reminds us that while passion, slogans, and moral outrage can ignite a fire, it is structure, vision, and discipline that will keep that fire burning.

As we move toward another election cycle, many new groups will emerge. Some will be born out of hope. Others will be manufactured out of political necessity. The challenge for all of us—citizens, scholars, reformers—is to ask the hard questions: Who are they? What do they stand for? Can they last?

Because if we continue to chase reform without preparation, we will continue to see movements like ABP rise and fall—leaving us, once again, with broken dreams and unfinished revolutions.

 

References

Acuna, R., Alejandro, A., & Leung, R. (2024). The families that stay together: A network analysis of dynastic power in Philippine politics. ArXiv Preprint.

Ayson, M. E. G., & Reyes, L. G. S. (2023). The Philippines 2022–2023: A turbulent start for the new era of Marcos leadership. Asia Maior.

Bagayas, J. P. P. (2025). Duterte’s impeachment and the spectacle of Philippine politics. East Asia Forum.

Dela Cruz, M. T. (2015). The dynamics of electoral coalitions in Philippine democracy. Institute of Political and Electoral Studies.

Human Rights Watch. (2024). Philippines: Duterte arrest a step forward for justice. HRW News.

International Criminal Court. (2025). Statement of the Office of the Prosecutor on the arrest of former Philippine President Rodrigo Roa Duterte. ICC Press Release.

NCCP. (2025). Statement on the Impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte. National Council of Churches in the Philippines.

Reyes, L. B. (2015). Power and personality in Philippine elections. Visayas Social Research Center.

Thornton, S. (2025, May 28). Historic impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte shakes Philippine politics. Broadsheet Asia.

Torres, J. C. (2015). Temporary alliances, permanent problems: The risks of political coalitions in weak democracies. Ateneo de Davao University Press.

Villanueva, S. M. (2015). The rise and fall of opposition movements in Philippine politics. Political Development Review.

 __________________________________________________________________________

*About the author:
Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission