ON the eve of the International Criminal Court proceedings involving former president Rodrigo Duterte, and amid the second set of impeachment complaints against Vice President Sara Duterte, we are confronted with a sudden flood of distractions: a presidential run declaration, a dramatic press conference by 18 Marines alleging cash payouts, and sweeping accusations that now even extend to ICC investigators.
This is not to assert a grand conspiracy. But no one can blame citizens for wondering whether something calculated is unfolding. The timing is precise, the targets consistent, and the narrative convenient.
First came the vice president’s declaration that she is running for president. Overnight, the conversation shifted from legal accountability to electoral politics. Impeachment ceased to be about alleged misuse of confidential funds or public threats against the president, and is now bound to be framed as “political persecution.”
Then came the spectacle of 18 alleged Marines presenting claims of cash payoffs supposedly meant to influence congressional hearings and even ICC investigators. The list of personalities implicated reads predictably: lawmakers active in hearings, opposition figures, and party-list representative Leila de Lima. The pattern is unmistakable. The accusations focus on those institutionally involved in scrutinizing the Dutertes.
Yet the loopholes are glaring. Consider de Lima. She is alleged to have received payoffs during a period when she was detained by virtue of the Duterte administration. The timeline alone undermines the claim.
More astonishing is the assertion that millions of pesos were converted into US dollars and handed to ICC investigators, a claim that collapses under scrutiny.
Large foreign exchange transactions in the Philippines are strictly regulated by the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP). Banks do not casually convert millions of pesos into dollars. Anti-money laundering (AML) laws impose reporting thresholds, documentation requirements, and compliance checks. Any substantial transaction leaves a trail.
If dollars are purchased for travel, banks require plane tickets, visas and supporting documents. For investment, remittance, property purchase, or business transactions, documentary proof is mandatory. One cannot simply walk into a bank and quietly convert tens of millions of pesos into dollars without scrutiny.
A transaction equivalent to around $2 million would not be completed in a single afternoon. Large conversions are often processed in tranches and may take weeks, subject to liquidity and compliance review. Even assuming someone managed to acquire that amount of foreign currency, Philippine regulations limit the amount of foreign currency one may physically bring out of the country to $10,000 per person without declaration. Anything beyond that must be declared, and large undeclared sums can be seized.
In short, the narrative that millions were casually converted, quietly delivered and brought abroad, and escaped detection by banks, compliance officers, AML units, and regulators is unlikely and implausible.
The supposed visual “evidence” only deepens skepticism. Aircraft tail numbers appear inconsistent. Rice-cooker cover hovers awkwardly over cash-counting machines. Peso bills appear oddly oversized.
We operate in an era where digital manipulation is easy and politically weaponized. We have already witnessed pro-Duterte vloggers circulate AI-altered images of relatives of extrajudicial killing victims for ridicule. Fabrication has precedent. Even the credentials of four of the so-called Marines appeared to be faked.
Meanwhile, Sara Duterte’s impeachment is being politically preempted by some who supported impeachment in 2025 now appearing to have changed their minds. Before the House Justice Committee could even begin deliberations, the National Unity Party (NUP) initially announced that its members would not support impeachment unless “new evidence” emerges.
What new evidence are they anticipating? The Supreme Court dismissed the first impeachment complaint on a technicality, not on the merits. The underlying allegations — confidential funds, public threats, questionable expenditures — remain unchanged. If those facts once justified support, what has changed beyond political calculus?
This is the same party that expelled Rep. Kiko Barzaga and spearheaded his suspension from Congress. Apparently, his actions merited swift sanction. Yet threats against the president and controversial use of public funds do not meet the same urgency. Consistency appears selective.
The NUP has since walked back on its initial party position and would leave it up to their members to vote according to their conscience. After all, cracks are visible within its ranks. Rep. Benny Abante endorsed the fourth impeachment complaint, while Rep. Lorenz Defensor insists that publicly issuing death threats constitutes a clear impeachable offense.
The ICC confirmation of charges is a legal process. It determines whether sufficient evidence exists to proceed to trial. It is not a political rally. Allegations of fantastical dollar conversions do not rebut evidence; they attempt to delegitimize the forum itself.
Impeachment, likewise, is a constitutional mechanism designed to test serious allegations against high officials. Preemptively declaring refusal to impeach before hearings begin on acts previously judged as impeachable can only invite suspicion.
What we are witnessing resembles narrative warfare. It is an effort to shift the battleground from evidence to emotion, from documentation to insinuation. When legal exposure increases, noise predictably follows.
Institutions do not collapse because they are tested. They collapse when political actors refuse to let them function. Accountability processes are not threats to democracy. They are its safeguards. When doubt is deliberately manufactured to paralyze proceedings, it becomes obstruction.
Citizens must demand consistency. If evidence is required, then demand it from both sides. If documentation matters, then follow the paper trail. If timelines are relevant, then examine them without partisan filters. Selective disbelief is not critical thinking; it is tribal loyalty masquerading as prudence.
Facts are verifiable. Financial transactions are traceable. Legal proceedings are recorded. If allegations are false, the courtroom will expose them. But if the strategy is to drown proceedings in noise or deploy squid tactics, then the real casualty will be truth and justice.
Repetition does not transform improbability into truth. Noise does not substitute for proof. And political convenience does not suspend constitutional duty. Contrived, scripted and bought spectacle is not justice.
Let the processes unfold and the evidence speak, even as we expose those who seek to derail accountability as the real enemies of the people.
Antonio P. Contreras, PhD, is a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the state-run PTV Network Inc. The views expressed here are his own.
First came the vice president’s declaration that she is running for president. Overnight, the conversation shifted from legal accountability to electoral politics. Impeachment ceased to be about alleged misuse of confidential funds or public threats against the president, and is now bound to be framed as “political persecution.”
Then came the spectacle of 18 alleged Marines presenting claims of cash payoffs supposedly meant to influence congressional hearings and even ICC investigators. The list of personalities implicated reads predictably: lawmakers active in hearings, opposition figures, and party-list representative Leila de Lima. The pattern is unmistakable. The accusations focus on those institutionally involved in scrutinizing the Dutertes.
Yet the loopholes are glaring. Consider de Lima. She is alleged to have received payoffs during a period when she was detained by virtue of the Duterte administration. The timeline alone undermines the claim.
More astonishing is the assertion that millions of pesos were converted into US dollars and handed to ICC investigators, a claim that collapses under scrutiny.
Large foreign exchange transactions in the Philippines are strictly regulated by the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP). Banks do not casually convert millions of pesos into dollars. Anti-money laundering (AML) laws impose reporting thresholds, documentation requirements, and compliance checks. Any substantial transaction leaves a trail.
If dollars are purchased for travel, banks require plane tickets, visas and supporting documents. For investment, remittance, property purchase, or business transactions, documentary proof is mandatory. One cannot simply walk into a bank and quietly convert tens of millions of pesos into dollars without scrutiny.
A transaction equivalent to around $2 million would not be completed in a single afternoon. Large conversions are often processed in tranches and may take weeks, subject to liquidity and compliance review. Even assuming someone managed to acquire that amount of foreign currency, Philippine regulations limit the amount of foreign currency one may physically bring out of the country to $10,000 per person without declaration. Anything beyond that must be declared, and large undeclared sums can be seized.
In short, the narrative that millions were casually converted, quietly delivered and brought abroad, and escaped detection by banks, compliance officers, AML units, and regulators is unlikely and implausible.
The supposed visual “evidence” only deepens skepticism. Aircraft tail numbers appear inconsistent. Rice-cooker cover hovers awkwardly over cash-counting machines. Peso bills appear oddly oversized.
We operate in an era where digital manipulation is easy and politically weaponized. We have already witnessed pro-Duterte vloggers circulate AI-altered images of relatives of extrajudicial killing victims for ridicule. Fabrication has precedent. Even the credentials of four of the so-called Marines appeared to be faked.
Meanwhile, Sara Duterte’s impeachment is being politically preempted by some who supported impeachment in 2025, now appearing to have changed their minds. Before the House Justice Committee could even begin deliberations, the National Unity Party (NUP) initially announced that its members would not support impeachment unless “new evidence” emerges.
What new evidence are they anticipating? The Supreme Court dismissed the first impeachment complaint on a technicality, not on the merits. The underlying allegations — confidential funds, public threats, questionable expenditures — remain unchanged. If those facts once justified support, what has changed beyond political calculus?
This is the same party that expelled Rep. Kiko Barzaga and spearheaded his suspension from Congress. Apparently, his actions merited swift sanction. Yet threats against the president and controversial use of public funds do not meet the same urgency. Consistency appears selective.
The NUP has since walked back on its initial party position and would leave it up to its members to vote according to their conscience. After all, cracks are visible within its ranks. Rep. Benny Abante endorsed the fourth impeachment complaint, while Rep. Lorenz Defensor insists that publicly issuing death threats constitutes a clear impeachable offense.
The ICC confirmation of charges is a legal process. It determines whether sufficient evidence exists to proceed to trial. It is not a political rally. Allegations of fantastical dollar conversions do not rebut evidence; they attempt to delegitimize the forum itself.
Impeachment, likewise, is a constitutional mechanism designed to test serious allegations against high officials. Preemptively declaring refusal to impeach before hearings begin on acts previously judged as impeachable can only invite suspicion.
What we are witnessing resembles narrative warfare. It is an effort to shift the battleground from evidence to emotion, from documentation to insinuation. When legal exposure increases, noise predictably follows.
Institutions do not collapse because they are tested. They collapse when political actors refuse to let them function. Accountability processes are not threats to democracy. They are its safeguards. When doubt is deliberately manufactured to paralyze proceedings, it becomes obstruction.
Citizens must demand consistency. If evidence is required, then demand it from both sides. If documentation matters, then follow the paper trail. If timelines are relevant, then examine them without partisan filters. Selective disbelief is not critical thinking; it is tribal loyalty masquerading as prudence.
Facts are verifiable. Financial transactions are traceable. Legal proceedings are recorded. If allegations are false, the courtroom will expose them. But if the strategy is to drown proceedings in noise or deploy squid tactics, then the real casualty will be truth and justice.
Repetition does not transform improbability into truth. Noise does not substitute for proof. And political convenience does not suspend constitutional duty. Contrived, scripted and bought spectacle is not justice.
Let the processes unfold and the evidence speak, even as we expose those who seek to derail accountability as the real enemies of the people.
Antonio P. Contreras, PhD, is a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the state-run PTV Network Inc. The views expressed here are his own.