In the high-stakes theater of Philippine politics, where bloodlines are currency and surnames are destiny, a rumor of seismic proportions is threatening to bring down the house of Marcos. It is a whisper that has turned into a scream across social media and political backrooms: the allegation that Senator Imee Marcos, the fiery and often critical sister of President Bongbong Marcos (PBBM), may not be a biological Marcos at all. This explosive “negative DNA” narrative is now being cited by critics and vloggers as the true, psychological driver behind her relentless, public attacks on her brother’s administration.

The dynasty, once projected as a monolithic block of “UniTeam” solidarity, is fracturing in real-time. The latest fissure isn’t just about policy or political alliances; it has descended into the primal question of identity. A viral commentary has ignited a firestorm by suggesting that Senator Imee’s recent behavior—her constant “pasaring” (insinuations), her attacks on the First Lady, and her surprising alignment with opposition figures—is a classic case of “diversion.” The theory posits that she is creating noise to drown out the persistent “Ampon” (adopted) tag that has dogged her for years, a tag that supporters of the President are now weaponizing with renewed vigor.

The context of this biological warfare is the Senator’s recent challenge for her brother to undergo a hair follicle drug test. However, critics are flipping the script with devastating effectiveness. “Why demand a test that was already done and passed during the election?” asks one prominent commentator. “The real question the public wants answered is: Are you a true Marcos?” The challenge has shifted. Instead of drug tests for the President, the public is now daring the Senator to take a DNA test to settle the “Ampon” rumors once and for all. “Go ahead. Be the first to volunteer,” the critics taunt. “If you want to silence the rumors, prove your lineage.”

This narrative gained terrifying traction after Congressman Sandro Marcos, the President’s son, issued a “first and last” statement condemning his aunt’s actions. In a move that stunned the nation, Sandro described his aunt’s behavior as “dangerously irresponsible” and a “web of lies.” But the most damning part of his statement was the revelation that even Imee’s own children—Borgy, Matthew, and Michael—allegedly do not support her attacks on the First Family. When a mother loses the political support of her own sons in a feud against her brother, the public begins to look for deeper, darker reasons.

The “Negative DNA” theory offers a psychological explanation for what many see as irrational hostility. Why would a sister try to destroy her brother’s presidency? Why would she insinuate that he is a drug user when he, according to family lore, donated a kidney to save their father, Ferdinand Marcos Sr.? Medical experts and commentators alike have pointed out the contradiction: a person with one kidney cannot sustain a drug habit without suffering catastrophic health failure. The President appears healthy and functional, debunking the “addict” narrative. This logical gap has led many to conclude that Imee’s attacks are not based on fact, but on a deep-seated “political jealousy” or an identity crisis.

If the rumors of her “negative” DNA or non-biological status are true, her aggression makes sense as a survival mechanism. In a dynasty where legitimacy is everything, feeling like an outsider—or worse, a “fake”—could drive a person to tear down the “real” heir to level the playing field. It is a Shakespearean tragedy of envy and ambition. The commentary suggests she is launching “character assassination” and “sabotage” to advance her own 2028 presidential ambitions, using the destruction of her brother as a stepping stone.

Furthermore, the “Negative” rumor serves as a convenient shield against her own mounting scandals. With issues swirling around alleged “bagmen” in the DPW, graft rumors, and questionable finances, creating a spectacle with the President serves as a powerful diversion. By acting the aggressor, she avoids being the defendant. “It’s classic gaslighting,” observers note. She accuses the administration of the very instability she is creating.

The tragedy of this family meltdown is its public nature. The “sacred line” of family loyalty has been obliterated. The President’s camp, usually quiet, has begun to signal that the gloves are off. Hints from insiders suggest that the President has given the “go signal” to expose the truth about his sister’s personal life and political dealings. The “Ampon” narrative is no longer just a whisper; it is becoming a political weapon.

As the dust settles on this latest explosion, the challenge remains. Will Senator Imee Marcos take the DNA test to silence the “negative” rumors? Or will she continue her “pasaring,” fueling the very fire that threatens to consume her credibility? The country watches with bated breath, witnessing not just a political feud, but the potential unraveling of a dynasty’s very DNA. The question “Is she or isn’t she?” has become the most dangerous question in Philippine politics.