Budgetary allocations for select government offices, commonly termed “intelligence” and “confidential” funds, are typically exempt from standard auditing procedures in order to preserve the secrecy of the operations they support. While such exemptions may be justifiable for safeguarding national security and law enforcement objectives, their application to civilian agencies without clear security functions is harder to defend.
The secrecy surrounding these funds creates a fertile ground for misuse. The legislative challenge lies in establishing stricter oversight mechanisms to prevent fraud and ensure that these funds serve their intended purposes effectively.
This is the apparent aim of the ongoing hearings in the House of Representatives, focusing on the use of confidential funds by the Office of the Vice President (OVP) and the Department of Education (DepEd) during Vice President Sara Duterte’s tenure as education secretary. The first critical question is whether the OVP and DepEd—both civilian agencies entities—require confidential funds at all. If they do, what level of auditing and oversight is appropriate?
Under normal circumstances, such issues might not capture much public attention. However, the current inquiry is complicated by its political undertones. The spotlight is on Sara Duterte’s use of confidential funds both as incumbent vice president and as former education secretary, even though hers is not the only office with such allocations. The timing of the investigation—coinciding with Sara Duterte’s public break from the Marcos administration, of which she was a key member—raises suspicions about the real motive behind these hearings. Her supporters allege this is part of a calculated move to discredit her as a contender in the 2028 presidential elections.
Regardless of political motivations, the separate Senate and House inquiries into Sara Duterte’s budgets are exposing glaring systemic weaknesses in our governance system. These hearings highlight how populist leaders like Sara Duterte exploit these dysfunctions to gain enormous power and maintain it.
The crux of the problem appears to be the unrestricted access to public funds with minimal accountability. These funds are often used to distribute political patronage, secure compliance with illegal directives, or sustain an ecosystem of political operators, troll farms, loyal media, bodyguards, and even assassins. Those who resist can be intimidated, coerced, or silenced. This is governance at its darkest—a form of criminal politics.
While such practices are not unique to one administration, the Vice President’s father and former president Rodrigo Duterte’s tenure arguably made them the cornerstone of his rule. Enabled by obsequious politicians, a complicit police force, a subdued judiciary, a silenced press, and a fearful bureaucracy, his brazen and whimsical presidency found no need for transparency and accountability. The people seemed satisfied so long as he appeared to deliver results.
Yet, all presidencies end. Without a political party to anchor his influence, Rodrigo Duterte’s power quickly vanished after his term, though his popularity persisted for some time. The Marcos administration rode to power in part by recruiting Sara Duterte to be the vice president. Now, the fallout from the collapse of their dynastic alliance has thrust the government into a situation that tests the Marcos administration’s seriousness about strengthening the rule of law and reforming governance.
The breakup has been ugly—marked by accusations of betrayal, broken promises, and incendiary rhetoric. In her latest outburst on Nov. 23, a defiant Sara Duterte unleashed a torrent of expletives and threats against the President, the First Lady, and the Speaker of the House during an impromptu press conference at her brother, Davao City 1st District Rep. Paolo Duterte’s office. If words could kill, there would be decimation in the upper echelons of government.
This is no longer mere political theater. As the saying goes, when elephants fight, it’s the grass that suffers. The public’s growing frustration with their leaders drains the energy needed for national progress. Calls for people power are already surfacing on social media. While another Edsa revolution seems unlikely, the current climate of distrust and disillusionment only deepens the country’s political malaise.
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