Has Cayetano become the deadlock?

By Herman M. Lagon

There comes a point when a dispute stops being about personalities and starts becoming about responsibility. That is where the debate over Senate President Alan Peter Cayetano seems to be heading. For many Filipinos, the concern is no longer whether they support or oppose him. It is whether the Senate can still do its job.

For two consecutive session days, the chamber failed to conduct business because the majority bloc was absent. Important measures stalled, criticism mounted, and questions about leadership followed. Among the measures reportedly left waiting were Sen. Risa Hontiveros’ Anti-Hospital Detention Bill, proposed amendments to social welfare measures, and several pending bills scheduled for plenary action before the congressional recess. Cayetano’s camp says it is defending Senate independence. Critics see an institution losing momentum.

Events, however, moved quickly. What began as a legislative standoff soon evolved into a significant leadership realignment inside the chamber. The impasse broke when Sen. Francis “Chiz” Escudero joined senators forming a new majority bloc. Sen. Win Gatchalian was then elected Senate president pro tempore and acting Senate president, allowing the Senate to finally resume its sessions. Other leadership changes followed, including Sen. Juan Miguel “Migz” Zubiri’s return to the Committee on Rules. The message was simple: institutions rarely stay stuck forever.

No one expects leaders to prevent every disagreement. But they are expected to help institutions navigate through them. Even if the chamber has now begun moving again, the events of the past week leave an unavoidable question: How did the Senate reach this point, and what responsibility does its leader bear for getting it there?

In a democracy, disagreement is expected. Legislatures exist precisely because people see problems differently. Debate, dissent, and even political maneuvering are part of the process. The challenge is making sure those disagreements do not stop governance altogether. When conflict begins preventing an institution from performing its most basic functions, people understandably start asking harder questions about leadership.

For many of us, the frustration feels familiar. Teachers know the feeling. A faculty meeting can spend two hours debating seating arrangements for graduation while struggling readers remain unaddressed. Local government employees see it when turf wars delay projects. Parents experience it when family members spend more time arguing about who should do the chores than actually washing the dishes. The problem is rarely disagreement itself. The problem is when the disagreement becomes the main event. Many citizens watching the Senate today seem less interested in which faction wins and more concerned that the country’s problems are waiting while politicians battle one another.

That concern is not trivial. Public trust is hard to earn and easy to lose. People may tolerate disagreements among leaders, but they become uneasy when institutions appear unable to function effectively. They may even forgive mistakes. What they struggle to forgive is paralysis. Flood control controversies, inflation concerns, education challenges, health care access, food security, and agricultural struggles do not pause because politicians are fighting. The calendar keeps moving. Problems keep accumulating. Meanwhile, every day without legislative work feels to many taxpayers like paying for a bus that never leaves the terminal.

Part of what makes the controversy emotionally charged is that it has evolved far beyond procedural arguments inside the Senate. Those questioning Cayetano’s leadership are not just opposition politicians. They include former UP student leaders, members of the Ateneo Law community, legal practitioners, economists such as Winnie Monsod, former Senate Presidents Aquilino Pimentel III and Franklin Drilon, and many concerned citizens. Their argument is straightforward: leaders should be judged by whether institutions work.

Some critics also point to Senate Rule XIV, Section 41, which states that the Senate president may postpone a session only after consultation with the majority leader and the minority leader. Whether that rule was fully observed has become part of the controversy. For critics, the issue is not merely procedural. It is about whether established rules designed to keep the institution functioning were respected. Rules exist to protect institutions, not personalities. When questions arise about whether those rules were followed, attention naturally shifts from procedure to leadership.

For many critics, the issue is no longer about which faction wins. There comes a point when people stop asking who is right and start asking why nothing is getting done. That is where many of us seem to be now. If sessions continue to falter and legislation continues to stall, some believe the harder question is no longer about loyalty to a leader. It is about loyalty to the institution itself.

People expect criticism from political rivals. What gives the conversation a different weight is when concern also comes from people who once studied, worked, or traveled the same professional paths as Cayetano. Whether they are right or wrong, their voices make the issue harder to dismiss.

Even so, institutions are larger than any one person. A resignation alone would not erase the problems overnight. Fairness requires looking at a leader’s entire body of work. But when a crisis begins getting in the way of the institution’s work, questions about leadership naturally follow.

History offers a recurring lesson: Institutions often recover when leaders recognize that preserving the organization matters more than preserving the position. Sometimes they realize that their continued presence is making a difficult situation harder than it needs to be. Stepping aside is not always about failure. Sometimes it is about putting the institution first.

Now that the Senate has resumed its work, many will wonder whether the leadership that presided over the crisis is helping restore confidence or prolonging uncertainty. Leadership is not only about staying the course. Sometimes it is about knowing when the institution needs something different.

Leadership carries a burden that ordinary membership does not. The Senate president’s role exists precisely to keep the institution functioning during difficult moments. In our communities, people rarely follow titles alone. They follow leaders who unite, listen, and take responsibility when things go wrong. That is why credibility remains such a powerful currency in public life.

While senators argue, life outside the chamber continues. A rice farmer worrying about fertilizer prices in Negros, a mother waiting for medicine in a public hospital in Cebu, or a graduating student hoping for more opportunities after college probably has little interest in Senate factions. What they care about is whether government keeps moving. To them, political deadlock is not a strategy. It is a delay they can feel in their daily lives.

The question is no longer just about who is right. It may now be about whether the Senate still has the leadership needed to regain public confidence. If restoring the Senate’s ability to function requires a change at the top, then difficult conversations about the Senate presidency can no longer be avoided. When an institution struggles to function, protecting it must take priority over protecting any office or a politician’s ambition. After all, leadership is not just knowing when to stand firm. Sometimes it is knowing when to let the institution move on.

The irony is difficult to ignore. The Senate has already found a way to move forward. The only remaining question is whether its leadership is moving with it.

Empty chairs in the session hall have become a metaphor for something larger. They remind us that institutions do not lose credibility overnight. They lose it one unresolved conflict, one missed opportunity, and one abandoned responsibility at a time.

A Senate that cannot sit together cannot easily stand for the people. And when leadership becomes part of the reason an institution remains stuck, history suggests that the most honorable service may sometimes be knowing when to step aside.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed by or connected with.