One of the oldest habits in Philippine politics is this: when politicians begin losing power, they begin speaking more frequently about God.

When alliances collapse, when surveys weaken, when impeachment looms, when leadership positions become unstable, public officials suddenly rediscover spirituality. Their speeches become saturated with references to prayer, divine destiny, providence and moral righteousness. God becomes political insulation. Religion becomes reputation management.

The pattern is painfully familiar.

Vice President Sara Duterte frequently opens or closes speeches with “Assalamu alaikum,” invoking her Mindanao roots and signaling solidarity with Muslim communities in the South. Senate President Alan Peter Cayetano, meanwhile, recently justified the bloody Duterte drug war as “pro-life,” claiming in effect that “Ayaw ni Lord ng drugs,” as though divine morality somehow sanctioned the killing of thousands of Filipinos.

The timing of these religious performances is difficult to ignore.

Sara Duterte faces mounting political pressure and impeachment threats. Cayetano himself appears increasingly vulnerable amid reports of Senate leadership instability and internal dissatisfaction. And suddenly, both politicians seem eager to wrap themselves in the language of faith, spirituality and divine purpose.

But invoking God does not make a political project holy.

Often, it does the opposite.

It turns politicians into blasphemers.

Because there is a profound difference between genuine faith and the instrumental use of religion for political survival.

Throughout history, scholars of politics and religion have warned that struggling political elites frequently weaponize sacred language precisely when their legitimacy weakens. Sociologist Max Weber (1922) described how political actors invoke charisma and spiritual symbolism to preserve authority during moments of institutional fragility. Carl Schmitt (1922) argued that modern political power often borrows theological language to make itself appear morally untouchable.

In simpler terms: when politicians cannot fully defend themselves politically, they often seek refuge in the vocabulary of heaven.

The danger is that religious symbolism can emotionally disarm the public. Once leaders speak the language of God, prayer and destiny, criticism becomes psychologically harder. Opponents risk appearing disrespectful not merely to politicians but to faith itself.

This is why democratic societies must remain deeply suspicious whenever public officials excessively moralize themselves through religion.

Especially when their policies produce social cruelty.

How can politicians claim closeness to God while defending violence, disinformation or the corrosion of democratic accountability?

How can leaders speak of prayer while normalizing rhetoric that poisons public life with fear, vengeance and fanaticism?

Christian theology, Islamic ethics, and virtually every major religious tradition share one foundational principle: genuine faith must bear moral fruits.

In Christianity, Matthew 7:16 plainly states:

“You will know them by their fruits.”

Not by slogans.
Not by greetings.
Not by public invocations of God.

But by consequences.

Similarly, the Qur’an repeatedly emphasizes justice, compassion and truthfulness as essential marks of faith. Religious utterance without moral conduct becomes hypocrisy.

Theologian Reinhold Niebuhr (1944) warned that one of the greatest temptations of political actors is self-righteousness — the tendency to confuse personal ambition with divine mission. Hannah Arendt (1963) likewise warned that dangerous political systems often emerge when moral language becomes detached from moral reality.

And this is precisely the problem in contemporary Philippine politics.

Religious references are increasingly used not to elevate public morality but to anesthetize public scrutiny.

A politician accused of abuse suddenly asks for prayers.
A leader facing accountability suddenly speaks of God’s plan.
An official defending state violence suddenly claims divine justification.

Faith becomes public relations.

But authentic spirituality does not sanctify power. It restrains it.

The irony is devastating: many politicians who speak most loudly about God frequently pursue policies and rhetoric fundamentally opposed to the ethical core of religion itself.

Christianity teaches mercy, humility and truth. Yet many politicians spread vengeance, arrogance and manipulation.

Islam teaches justice, accountability and compassion. Yet political elites often invoke Islamic greetings while participating in systems marked by impunity and dynastic power.

The contradiction is impossible to ignore.

And Filipinos should stop mistaking religious performance for moral credibility.

A politician who repeatedly mentions God does not become righteous. Sometimes it merely reveals desperation. Worse, it may reveal an attempt to exploit Filipinos’ deep religiosity to ensure political survival.

That is why citizens must evaluate leaders not by how often they invoke heaven, but by whether their actions reflect the ethical demands their religions actually teach.

Because when politicians use God-language while spreading fear, justifying violence or poisoning democratic discourse, they do not become holy.

They risk becoming precisely what religion condemns: blasphemers–people who use the name of God in vain.

References

• Arendt, Hannah. 1963. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil.
• Niebuhr, Reinhold. 1944. The Children of Light and the Children of Darkness.
• Schmitt, Carl. 1922. Political Theology.
• Weber, Max. 1922. Economy and Society.