The deeply divisive politics of Vice President Sara Duterte have created a destabilizing atmosphere at a time when our nation faces significant internal and external challenges. Her political maneuvering has prioritized self-preservation over national stability, further fragmenting an already fragile political landscape. For this reason alone, Sara Duterte and the political machinery she represents must be removed from positions of influence—even from the pages of history—as a necessary step toward genuine national progress.

This analysis would have been different had Ms. Duterte’s actions been driven by a sincere desire for revolutionary change. However, her opposition to the incumbent administration is not rooted in ideological transformation or reformist zeal. Rather, she reacted negatively against President Marcos only when he began disentangling the country from the political and economic quagmire created by her father, former President Rodrigo Roa Duterte, whose six-year rule was marked by mismanagement and a lack of strategic direction.

President Marcos’s departure from Duterte’s China-centric foreign policy, coupled with his efforts to restore business confidence through more transparent governance, triggered the Duterte faction’s backlash. The Duterte dynasty, much like any entrenched political family, viewed these reforms as direct threats to their economic and political interests. When government funding shifted away from projects initiated by their clique, their response was predictable—criticism, obstruction, and veiled threats. The so-called Uniteam coalition, which was supposed to usher in change, crumbled not due to ideological differences but because the business interests of these dynastic elites clashed, particularly over lucrative government contracts and access to public funds.

Like provincial upstarts seeking to play in Manila’s high-stakes political arena, the Dutertes mistakenly believed they had permanently embedded themselves within the country’s ruling elite. They failed to recognize that their political influence was always contingent on their hold over Malacañang. Once out of power, their reversion to political irrelevance began almost immediately. For six years, they operated under the illusion that they had supplanted the Liberal Democrats, longtime rivals of the Marcoses. Now, reality has struck hard: they were never more than temporary players attempting to mimic the very political forces they once sought to destroy.

Defanged and desperate, the Dutertes scrambled to consolidate their mass base, only to find that it had eroded. The illusion that Ms. Duterte still commands the loyalty of the 32 million who voted for her has been shattered. A series of poorly attended “Maisug” rallies failed to attract even a fraction of the expected supporters. They have attempted every trick in the book to revive their dwindling influence, but to no avail. Even the patriarch, Rodrigo Duterte, resorted to appealing to his former military and police allies, reminding them of the favors he bestowed upon their careers—an implicit demand for loyalty. Yet, even among ex-generals, there was neither the sophistication nor the moral conviction to mobilize the armed forces for an unconstitutional power grab. The era of Duterte’s unchecked dominance has come to an end.

Now, Ms. Duterte finds herself at a critical juncture with only two viable paths forward. The first is resignation before an impeachment trial commences—an option that could spare her the indignity of a prolonged and humiliating downfall. Resigning would provide her the opportunity to rebuild her political base and position herself for the 2028 presidential elections, an event she and her allies believe is her destined moment. A temporary withdrawal from national politics would afford her and her strategists the necessary time to reassess, recalibrate, and strengthen their position. Stepping back now would allow her to consolidate support, a crucial move if she intends to mount a formidable presidential bid in 2028.

Moreover, resignation could transform her into a powerful opposition figure against the increasingly unpopular Marcos administration. As a private citizen, she could reposition herself as the voice of the disenfranchised—a rapidly growing sector disillusioned by the government’s perceived inaction and apathy. This role would enable her to maintain relevance and capitalize on shifting political sentiments.

The second, far riskier option is an extraconstitutional maneuver against the Marcos administration. While such an attempt might create short-term instability, its chances of success are minimal. Any unconstitutional power grab would likely backfire, potentially igniting an even larger armed insurgency—one that could surpass the scale of Myanmar’s ongoing conflict. The Duterte brand no longer wields the influence it once did, and the nation has moved on. Another Duterte-led government is an outcome the Filipino people are unlikely to accept.

For once, Ms. Duterte herself has acknowledged a bitter truth: should impeachment proceedings begin, it will mark the beginning of her political demise. On this, she is absolutely correct. Yes, Ms. Duterte, it will be the end—and the Filipino people will thank the Senate for removing a leader whose arrogance and bravado have long outstayed their welcome.