ONE of the more revealing aspects of the impeachment proceedings against Vice President Sara Duterte is not just the legal arguments of her defense, but how political narratives are constructed and presented as fact. This is evident in the defense’s reliance on what it calls “Operation Romanov.” It also underscores how public perception can be shaped as much by repetition as by substantiated evidence.
The defense asks the public to interpret the Vice President’s controversial threat against President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., First Lady Liza Araneta-Marcos, and former House speaker Martin Romualdez as a response to this supposed operation. The implication is clear: Her statements were made in reaction to an existing threat against her and her family. By invoking “Operation Romanov,” the defense attempts to provide context that could explain or mitigate what is now under scrutiny as an impeachable act.
However, this strategy carries a critical consequence. Once the defense uses “Operation Romanov” as justification, it assumes the burden of proving that such an operation actually existed. Repetition of a phrase does not constitute proof. Assertions are not evidence. In legal proceedings, especially those of constitutional magnitude, the standards for proof are necessarily stringent. Without credible evidence, such claims risk being dismissed as mere conjecture.
This raises fundamental questions: What exactly is “Operation Romanov”? Who initiated it? When did it begin? Who carried it out? What evidence supports its existence beyond political rhetoric? These questions are essential if the defense expects the impeachment court — and the public — to treat it as a factual basis for evaluating the vice president’s actions.
The timeline of how the term entered public discourse is particularly important.
On Jan. 28, 2024, Davao City Mayor Sebastian “Baste” Duterte publicly warned President Marcos to “think of the Romanovs” and “think of Benito Mussolini and his wife.” These references were clearly directed at the President and his family, not the Dutertes. Regardless of interpretation, the Romanov analogy was initially used as a warning against the ruling family.
This original context cannot simply be ignored.
Historically, the Romanovs were the ruling dynasty of Imperial Russia, overthrown during the Bolshevik Revolution. Their name symbolizes the downfall of a ruling house, not the persecution of an opposition group. In the Philippine context, the Marcos administration currently holds power, making it the ruling family. The Dutertes, by contrast, have increasingly positioned themselves in opposition.
In fact, if there would indeed be an Operation Romanov, it would necessarily target the Marcos family, and not the Dutertes.
If the Romanov analogy is applied consistently, it would logically refer to a threat against the ruling family — the Marcoses — not against the Dutertes. This makes the defense’s current use of “Operation Romanov” problematic. A term first used as a warning to the president is now being presented as evidence of a conspiracy against the Duterte family. Such a reversal requires proof.
The behavior of the Duterte online ecosystem adds another layer to this issue.
The DDS network is known for rapidly amplifying narratives, especially when the Duterte family is perceived to be under threat. Vloggers, influencers and social media pages quickly circulate warnings, creating a unified narrative. If “Operation Romanov” had been a genuine threat, one would expect it to have been widely discussed within this network well before the events leading to the impeachment complaint.
Yet there appears to have been no such sustained discussion.
Despite the DDS machinery’s capacity for rapid dissemination, there is little evidence of “Operation Romanov” being mentioned before Nov. 23, 2024. There were no consistent warnings, coordinated messaging, or widespread alerts about such an operation targeting the Duterte family. This absence of prior discourse raises doubts about the authenticity of the claim.
Instead, one of the earliest public mentions of “Operation Romanov” as a supposed plot against the Dutertes occurred during Vice President Sara Duterte’s late-night online press conference on Nov. 23, 2024 — the same broadcast in which she issued her controversial threats. During that livestream, DDS vlogger Princess Maui invoked the term.
This timing raises important questions.
If “Operation Romanov” had truly existed, why was there no prior discussion within the DDS ecosystem? Why did it emerge publicly only during the very broadcast central to the vice president’s defense?
These are questions the defense must answer.
Another possibility cannot be dismissed: “Operation Romanov” may not have been a real operation at all. It may have originated as a dramatic historical reference used by a vlogger, later amplified within partisan circles until repetition gave it the appearance of reality. This possibility highlights the ease with which narratives can be constructed in the digital age.
Such phenomena are common in the age of social media. Historical references are often detached from their original meaning, and repeated narratives can become accepted as truth without verification.
This should be a concern, especially when such narratives are used in proceedings of constitutional importance.
Political supporters may conflate repetition with proof, but lawyers cannot. They are expected to distinguish evidence from assertion and fact from narrative. Their duty to defend a client does not excuse reliance on unverified claims.
For this reason, the defense cannot simply invoke “Operation Romanov” as if it were self-evident. If it is to serve as the basis for explaining an alleged impeachable act, then its existence must be proven. The defense must show that it was a real operation, not a label that evolved after the fact from a historical analogy originally directed at the president.
The impeachment court is not a social media platform where repetition substitutes for evidence. It demands proof. This distinction is crucial in preserving the integrity of democratic institutions.
If “Operation Romanov” truly existed, the defense must identify its architects, participants, objectives, and supporting evidence. It must also explain how a term first used as a warning to the President became a narrative portraying the Dutertes as its targets.
Until then, “Operation Romanov” remains what it appears to be: a politically convenient label lacking evidentiary support, and one that underscores the dangers of allowing unverified narratives to influence serious constitutional processes.
The author is a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the board of PTVNI.
