Pokémon Senate: A bottomless abyss

When you think the Senate, currently led by self-proclaimed “Ambassador of Jesus Christ” Alan Pokémon Cayetano, can’t sink any deeper into the muck, it somehow finds ways to prove us wrong. Just when we thought the Cayetano bloc, comprised of accused mass murderers and plunderers, had already dragged the institution to rock bottom, their actions last week suggest they may be plunging the Senate into a bottomless abyss.

When the Senate opened last Monday, Sen. Imee Marcos delivered a privilege speech accusing the new minority bloc of plotting constitutional change via a constituent assembly to postpone the 2028 elections and block twice-impeached Vice President Sara Duterte’s presidential bid. To back her claim, she presented a stitched-together video of old news reports and baseless allegations that had the tone of a conspiracy documentary, framing their supposed Senate coup as a move to “protect” the 1987 Constitution.

How noble of Imee, who overnight transformed into a super constitutionalist. However, her narrative stretches credulity in much the same way as the stupid myth that her parents emerged from a magical bamboo stalk.

The accusations were so absurd that Imee even dragged beloved Pasig City Mayor Vico Sotto, of all people, into the spectacle. She claimed that Vico would supposedly run against Duterte if the Constitution were amended to lower the age requirement for presidential candidates, while simultaneously alleging that the very same plot seeks to raise the age limit to disqualify Duterte from the race. Your head hurts? It should. Imee’s narrative is painfully out of this world.

Members of the minority bloc took turns dismantling the accusations hurled by Imee, who notably refused to entertain interpellations from her colleagues, a revealing sign that she could not defend her claims. Although the minority succeeded in having the video stricken from the Senate records, the damage had already been done. The accusations had already been broadcast and absorbed into the public space.

It seems Imee and her bloc wanted exactly this outcome, not necessarily to prove their allegations, but to reshape the narrative around their Senate coup and force flat denials from the minority bloc, which reinforces their accusations. In today’s public discourse, which operates less on evidence and more on attention, repetition and emotion, that strategy is often enough.

The Cayetano bloc pressed their attack on Tuesday with Sen. Rodante Marcoleta aggressively pushing amendments to Senate rules to allow online voting for senators. Marcoleta, who instantly became the Senate’s tech visionary at the speed of cooking instant noodles, said his proposal is for the institution’s “technological advancement.” Funny. The technology the Senate needs is a lie detector.

The minority bloc opposed the proposal on three grounds: first, that it bypassed proper procedure and was being railroaded; second, that no extraordinary circumstance or force majeure justified it and third, that it appeared tailor-made for internationally wanted fugitive Sen. Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa and senators facing possible imprisonment on plunder charges.

The third point is obvious. Cayetano’s fragile leadership depends on preserving every possible vote needed to maintain his hold on the Senate presidency. This became even more apparent after Sen. Jinggoy Estrada, known to three generations of Filipinos for being associated with large-scale looting, was charged with plunder and could soon face arrest.

Sensing that the motion for online voting could pass by only a razor-thin margin, the minority bloc cleverly walked out of the plenary, effectively breaking quorum and halting proceedings. The footage of Cayetano speaking to an increasingly empty hall, then attempting to divide the chamber only to belatedly realize, rather embarrassingly, that almost half of his colleagues had walked out while he was speaking, is one of those parliamentary scenes where comedy is self-executing. For all his chest-thumping, Cayetano could not even muster a quorum. There is a Filipino term for that satisfying moment. “Pahiya.”

Sen. Robin Padilla, imbued with ever-flowing knowledge and wisdom, went online to convolutedly defend their proposal for online voting. He said it was necessary because we are already experiencing a “global force majeure,” pointing to the Middle East war and the China-Taiwan conflict as examples. By that logic, he might as well be excused from physically attending Senate sessions and opt for online legislation because there is flooding in Teacher’s Village, Quezon City. This guy. What a total waste of oxygen.

The Cayetano bloc also sought to frame their proposal as similar to an earlier suggestion involving former senator Leila de Lima who, while unjustly detained, was considered for possible online participation in Senate sessions. But the comparison is miles apart. In De Lima’s case, the proposal was narrowly confined to participation in deliberations and hearings, not voting, and even that was ultimately denied.

Ultimately, Robin revealed what the proposal was really about. In an online post, he appealed to the public to allow Dela Rosa to vote remotely during plenary sessions, describing him as a “hardworking” lawmaker eager to continue his duties but constrained by his status as someone evading an arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court (ICC). From “technological advancement” to “global force majeure,” their rhetoric boils down to simple arithmetic. The proposal for remote voting serves to save the crumbling Cayetano Senate presidency.

This coming week marks the Senate’s final days before a long recess. More fireworks are expected. Another push for online voting, a possible shift in the balance of power that could end the “Pokémon Senate” presidency or fresh plunder charges against more senators. Adding to the irony, a Marcoleta-led Blue Ribbon subcommittee will probe flood control corruption that involves members of their own bloc.

The public can only hope that whatever happens next leaves the Senate in better shape than it is today. Filipinos are already sick and tired of watching the never-ending season of “Senateflix.”