Democracy vs domicile

In every democracy, there is one principle that towers above political personalities, parties and power struggles: the right of citizens to choose their leaders. It is the foundation upon which public office is built. Sadly, it is also the first casualty when institutions forget that they exist to serve the people, not to overrule them.

This is why the ongoing case of Tarlac City Mayor Susan Yap-Sulit is more than just a local political dispute. It is a test not only of legal interpretation, but of whether our institutions still respect the sanctity of the ballot.

The Commission on Elections (Comelec) recently reversed its own Second Division’s earlier dismissal of a disqualification case against Yap-Sulit. The allegation? That she did not meet the one-year residency requirement in Barangay Tibag. The main argument? According to the petitioners, it is because her house “looks like a warehouse” and can therefore be impossible to actually live in.

Let’s all pause there. An elected mayor – who has transferred her voter registration to Tarlac City as early as 2014, has served three consecutive terms as governor and whose residency had never once been questioned in nine years of public service – is now disqualified on the basis of architectural appearance. Not fraud. Not double registration. Not falsified documents. Just… aesthetics.

And take note: all this was concluded without even entering the house in question.

If this is allowed to stand, the consequences are chilling. Because this is not about whether Susan Yap-Sulit is popular or controversial; it is about who has the final say in a democracy. Is it the voters, or a committee interpreting whether a house looks residential enough?

Let us be clear: the power to elect includes the power to make mistakes, to forgive, to demand more. That power does not include, nor does it tolerate, the erasure of election results after the fact simply because of a technicality that could have been raised long before ballots were cast.

And if tomorrow another elected official is disqualified over the layout of his address, the zoning of her family compound, the absence of curtains, or (God forbid) the wrong color of gate… where does it end? How many votes will be thrown away because a leader’s home fails the “street view inspection test?”

Disenfranchisement isn’t just when citizens are barred from voting. It is also when the votes they already cast are rendered meaningless. It is when, with one resolution, a ruling says to thousands of Tarlaqueños: “Your choice is invalid. We know better.”

Mayor Yap-Sulit’s critics may disagree with her political stance, her style of governance or even simply dislike her. That is their right. They may challenge her in the next election, or vote for another candidate. That is democracy. But to unseat her now, after the people have spoken, based on assumptions about where she sleeps, is to wander into dangerous territory.

It invites a troubling precedent: that elections are conditional, mandates are revocable and sovereignty is only valid until a technicality says otherwise.

This is why the Supreme Court must act with clarity and courage. This is no longer a case about one mayor or one city. It is about whether the vote still matters. Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: once we normalize overturning the people’s will on flimsy grounds, it will not stop in Tarlac. It will spread. It will be replicated. And one day, it may not be a warehouse-like house on trial. It may be democracy itself.