It's Sunday as I put these thoughts to paper—a sacred pause meant for stillness, looking inward, reckoning—and I find myself returning to an uncomfortable question we rarely ask in politics.
As the nation remains riveted by the ongoing Senate impeachment trial of VP Sara Duterte, one line from Bare Knuckle Boxing world champion Rolando Dy has cut through the political noise like a clean jab:
"Alam nyo ba binoto ko si Robin… Dami ko talaga maling decision sa buhay."
It was startling—not because a voter felt disappointed by a politician, which happens every day in our country, but because of where he pointed the finger.
Watching Senator Padilla during the historic impeachment proceedings has only magnified the sting of that regret.
From the very beginning, Padilla has looked every bit the square peg in a round hole—a celebrity action star thrust into a constitutional chamber requiring rigorous legal mastery, policy depth, and institutional gravitas.
His widely noted lack of legislative preparation has never been more glaring than in his role as a senator-judge, where his inconsequential, frequently theatrical, and all-too-often comical interjections stand in jarring contrast to the solemnity of a trial that could alter the nation's history.
At the height of irony, this was the man who topped the senatorial race in 2022—an uncomfortable mirror of our own electorate’s foibles, where name recall and populist charm so often outweigh competence.
Still, when Dy realized his mistake, he did not spin excuses, invent conspiracies, or double down to protect his pride. He simply looked in the mirror, owned his miscalculation, and placed that vote squarely on the shelf of his own life’s mistakes.
Without knowing it, Dy offered a psychological blueprint for what our nation desperately needs as we march toward the 2028 presidential election.
The Trap of Unconfessed Regret
In many ways, Dy’s confession is a microcosm of the broader dilemma facing the Duterte Diehard Supporters (DDS) who delivered the presidency to the UniTeam of Bongbong and Sara in 2022.
They cast their ballots in good faith, hoping that a grand alliance of political dynasties would bring stability, continuity, and strength.
Yet when that Faustian marriage of convenience inevitably collapsed—culminating in the very impeachment drama unfolding in the Senate today—two vastly different responses to disappointment emerged.
Dy chose inward accountability. By admitting he made a wrong choice, he cleared the mental space to regret it, forgive himself, and move forward wiser.
In stark contrast, the DDS has refused to concede any misjudgment in their 2022 vote.
Instead of reckoning with their own role in placing President Marcos in Malacañang, the DDS have poured all their fury outward—blaming Marcos exclusively for breaking away from Vice President Sara Duterte and pinning every hardship of the nation on him, even those systemic problems that began years before his administration took office.
Psychologists call this cognitive dissonance—the intense discomfort the DDS feel when reality collides with a choice they tied to their identity.
Because admitting "I was wrong" feels like an attack on their pride, their egos defend themselves by shifting all blame onto a villain.
Gnawing on the Bone of Bitterness
The tragedy of DDS in refusing to confront their own electoral mistakes is that the anger never truly hurts Bongbong; it hollows them out.
Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck once compared lingering anger to a dog gnawing on a bone.
We see this self-consuming rage every day in our social media. DDS fury feeds on every new political slight, promising vindication while quietly eroding their peace, their objectivity, and their capacity for discernment.
This brings us back to the hard truth often attributed to Thomas Jefferson:
"The government you elect is the government you deserve."
Leadership in a democracy does not fall from the sky; it is the direct reflection of what we, the voters, reward, excuse, and ignore at the ballot box.
When DDS refuse to own their past votes and cast themselves solely as victims of political betrayal, they surrender the very civic agency needed to build a better country.
The Mirror DDS Hate to Face
Nowhere is this unresolved projection clearer than in the relentless hostility directed at former Vice President Leni Robredo.
Looking back at 2022, Robredo embodies the "Road Not Taken"—the untested alternative that Filipino voters left at the crossroads in favor of a louder, more seductive promise. When a choice is left unexamined and un-regretted, the rejected path becomes an uncomfortable mirror.
Even though Robredo is no longer running for president in 2028, her quiet presence and steady public service still trigger visceral anger among the DDS.
To look at her without malice requires asking a painful question: Did we choose poorly?
The defensive reflex reached a repugnant peak when DDS hurled "kain-suka" insults at Robredo for extending basic institutional cooperation to the Marcos administration—a smear echoing the coarse imagery of Proverbs 26:11: "As a dog returns to its vomit, so fools repeat their folly."
Yet such cynicism completely misses the deeper, biblically grounded principle guiding Robredo’s conduct, which aligns far more closely with Romans 13:1:
What the bitter DDS twist into hypocrisy is actually civic maturity—the understanding that once an election ends, public service and respect for duly constituted institutions must begin—rising above personal rivalry for the sake of the nation.
Putting Down the Bone Before 2028
What our wounded political psyche needs is not another charismatic savior, nor another round of blind loyalty. It needs the Dy example.
Forgiving ourselves for a political misstep is never easy—especially when hindsight makes past red flags seem obvious.
But real self-forgiveness is not about making excuses; it is about having the humility to say, "I misjudged, I own it, and I will do better next time."
Only when we release ourselves from the need to defend a broken choice can we finally put down the bone of resentment.
George Santayana left humanity with a warning that hangs heavily over our country today:
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
Remembering the past means more than keeping a ledger of politicians’ sins; it means honestly remembering our own decisions as voters.
This Sunday’s Gospel reading from Matthew 25:29 offers a sobering spiritual lens for that responsibility.
In a democracy, our vote—and the wisdom we gain from our mistakes—is a talent entrusted to our stewardship.
When we bury our discernment in pride, partisan hatred, and denial, we risk losing even the little civic agency we still possess. Conversely, when we invest our hard-earned lessons with humility, clarity, and courage, we grow richer in wisdom as a people.
National healing will not begin on a campaign stage in 2028.
It begins today, a Sunday, in the quiet courage of ordinary Filipinos willing to look at 2022 with clear eyes, forgive their own miscalculations, and step into the next voting booths in 2028 as faithful stewards of our nation’s future.
Content & editing put together in collaboration with Google Gemini
Heat photo courtesy of Facebook
Photo app by Canva
Still photos courtesy of Facebook, Inquirer DepositPhotos, Rappler, & Pexels
No comments:
Post a Comment