(First of 2 parts)
“History is replete with examples of dynasties that thrived by keeping governance all in the family”
EVER wondered what would happen if you combined a lawyer, a magician, and a reality TV villain?
You’d get Salvador Panelo, former presidential legal counsel, the man who could spin a legal web so intricate it’d make even the most seasoned political observer dizzy.
His legal pronouncements were as unpredictable as a game of political poker, and his ability to defend the indefensible was truly a sight to behold.
Recently, in what can only be described as a sequel more audacious than The Godfather Part II, Panelo proposed the idea of a Duterte-Duterte tandem in the 2028 elections.
Yes, you read that right—a father-daughter power duo to restore what he apparently sees as the golden age of Philippine governance.
Clearly, Panelo has mastered the art of resurrection, not just of legal arguments but of political legacies that seem to defy the natural arc of public fatigue.
The Duterte brand: Magic or mirage?
Now, let’s talk about the “Duterte magic,” that unique brand of governance characterized by fear, fervor, and an inescapable fixation on the mythical war on drugs.
For a time, it was the magic that hypnotized the nation, making six years feel like an eternity.
But as with all magic, the enchantment is starting to wear off.
The public’s weary sighs suggest Duterte’s brand of governance is beginning to look less like wizardry and more like a conjuring trick gone awry.
Of course, Panelo, ever the political sorcerer, believes by simply pairing Rodrigo with his daughter Sara, the nation’s collective amnesia will be triggered.
Never mind that the “Duterte brand” is now the political equivalent of wearing bell-bottom jeans in 2024—outdated, uncomfortable, and, quite frankly, questionable in taste.
The diminishing appeal of the Duterte name might be hard to sell in a landscape where people are increasingly more concerned with actual governance rather than a sideshow of cursing and chest-thumping.
Duterte’s “impossible” feats
Then again, let’s not underestimate Duterte’s well-documented ability to make the “impossible” possible.
Remember how he transformed Davao from a city plagued by crime into a place where jaywalking might get you a stern talking-to by no less than the mayor himself?
Or how his war on drugs single-handedly redefined the concept of due process? Duterte’s entire career is a testament to the idea that what seems impossible—be it bypassing the ICC’s prying eyes or turning extrajudicial actions into state policy—can, with enough bravado and bullets, be achieved.
So, while the notion of a Duterte-Duterte tandem sounds absurd to the rest of us, it’s just another day in the office for Duterte, where the absurd is the norm.
After all, if he can normalize the idea of a “revolutionary government,” what’s to stop him from believing that another stint in Malacañang is just what the nation ordered?
A defense of the Duterte-Duterte tandem
Panelo might argue the Duterte-Duterte duo is just what the Philippines needs to maintain “stability”—a curious euphemism for ensuring that one family’s grip on power remains unchallenged.
History is replete with examples of dynasties that thrived by keeping governance all in the family.
From the Marcoses to the Estradas, the Philippines is no stranger to the idea that political power is best served with a side of familial bonds.
Then there’s the populist argument, the idea that the Duterte-Duterte tandem embodies the “will of the people.”
After all, what better way to reject the “elitist” establishment than by perpetuating a political dynasty?
If anything, it’s the ultimate subversion of democracy—turning the electoral process into a family reunion.
And let’s not forget the national security angle.
If there’s one thing Duterte excelled at, it was turning every political issue into a matter of life and death.
The logic follows that the nation, under threat from “external forces” (read: anyone with a differing opinion), needs a strong leader who can keep the peace—even if that peace comes at the cost of a few civil liberties here and there.
