“For those who believe in the sincerity of Sara’s ‘no,’ perhaps it’s time to invest in a few more rosaries and keep their fingers crossed”
In a nation where political promises are made to be broken (or at least bent into the shape of a pretzel), Vice President Sara Duterte’s recent declaration she has no plans to run for president in 2028 should probably be taken with all the seriousness of a politician’s vow to “end corruption.”
Indeed, if history has taught us anything, it’s that when a Duterte says they’re not interested in the presidency, it’s time to start printing the campaign posters.
Let’s start with the classic Filipino pastime: comparing the children to their parents.
Remember when Rodrigo Duterte — the man who made “I don’t want to be president” his unofficial campaign slogan in 2016 – surprised everyone by, well, running for president? And winning?
It seems his daughter Sara is now following in his well-worn flip-flops.
But, of course, she has her own unique spin on things.
Her announcement she has no presidential ambitions could either be a masterstroke of political strategy or simply her version of playing hard to get – if history is any guide, the latter might be more likely.
But let’s not be too hasty in doubting her sincerity.
After all, as Sara herself has pointed out, her “only dream” was to be mayor of Davao City for three consecutive terms.
Who can blame her for not dreaming bigger?
After all, managing a city known for its night markets and strict curfews is clearly much more thrilling than running an entire country.
Now, what about that pesky little impeachment talk?
According to Sara, some faceless and nameless friends in the House of Representatives are quaking in their boots at the mere thought of going against her, lest they wake up to find that their budget requests mysteriously disappear.
However, since no one in the House has actually mentioned impeachment, this might be Sara’s way of preemptively battling an imaginary foe – an age-old political tactic that lets you win wars without any actual battles. Genius, really.
But let’s entertain, just for a moment, the idea that Sara’s statement is not a grand piece of political theater but an honest-to-God reflection of her intentions.
Perhaps, like many of us, she’s just too exhausted by the relentless demands of high office.
Or maybe she’s realized that running a country is just way too much work, especially when you could be back in Davao, where the air is cleaner, and the mayoral seat warmer.
But in the cutthroat world of Philippine politics, where ambitions run higher than the rice terraces, it’s hard not to see this as a well-timed maneuver to keep the opposition guessing while she prepares her next move.
Now, for her critics—the ones who suspect she’s just like her father (because the apple never falls far from the malacañang tree, right?)—it might be wise to take her words with the same skepticism reserved for a weight-loss infomercial.
After all, who’s to say that by 2028, she won’t have a change of heart, or, as some might say, a sudden epiphany from God?
She’s already floated that little teaser: “God’s plan.” What better way to dodge accountability than to leave it up to divine intervention?
So what are we to make of all this?
For those who believe in the sincerity of Sara’s “no,” perhaps it’s time to invest in a few more rosaries and keep their fingers crossed.
For the skeptics, well, it might be wise to start brushing up on campaign slogans and preparing for a new round of Duterte-mania.
And for Sara herself, maybe a brief sabbatical from public office is in order—after all, even political dynasties deserve a vacation now and then. Just be sure to leave some time for that inevitable “surprise” candidacy in 2028.
As for advice to all parties involved: To Sara, if you truly don’t want the presidency, might I suggest trying reverse psychology?
In Philippine politics, saying you want something is a surefire way to ensure you never get it.
To her critics, keep sharpening those knives and hold onto your skepticism – it’s practically a national sport at this point.
And to the rest of us, the long-suffering public, let’s sit back, enjoy the show, and remember: In Philippine politics, the only certainty is that nothing is ever certain.
