In a week that can only be described as a political whirlwind, the stability of the current administration has been called into serious question following a series of explosive revelations. From the unceremonious removal of a high-ranking official to sensational whispers regarding the First Family’s lineage, and finally, to jaw-dropping allegations of billion-peso kickbacks, the corridors of power in Manila are shaking. The narrative of a “united” leadership is fracturing before the public’s eyes, revealing a chaotic landscape of betrayal, suspicion, and alleged corruption that rivals any telenovela.

The “Resignation” That Never Happened

The drama began with the sudden departure of Executive Secretary Lucas Bersamin, a move initially framed by the Palace as a resignation out of “delicadeza” (propriety). However, Bersamin himself has shattered this facade. in a candid and startling admission, the former Chief Justice clarified that he did not resign. “I did not resign,” Bersamin stated firmly, debunking the official line. He revealed that he only signed the letter acknowledging his replacement after the announcement had already been made to the public.

This revelation paints a picture of a ruthless internal purge. Bersamin, a man who served the government for decades—from the judiciary to the GSIS and finally to the “Little President” role—was reportedly blindsided. He described learning of his fate not through a formal conversation with the President initially, but through third parties and news reports. “The messaging should be clear… they should have consulted me first,” he lamented, expressing a mix of disappointment and professional resignation to the President’s prerogative.

Critics are seizing on this incident as proof of the administration’s lack of loyalty and basic professional courtesy. If the highest-ranking cabinet member can be discarded without notice, what security do other officials have? The term “laglagan” (dropping/betrayal) is now trending, suggesting that the administration is cleaning house to save itself, sacrificing even its most loyal lieutenants to appease public anger or cover up deeper issues.

The Billion-Peso “Armor Van” Scandal

While the political decapitation of Bersamin is shocking, the financial allegations emerging from Senate hearings and whistleblower accounts are simply staggering. Discussions led by figures like Senator Panfilo “Ping” Lacson have brought to light a massive corruption scheme involving the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) and the national budget.

The numbers are eye-watering. Allegations suggest that billions of pesos were inserted into the budget, with a significant portion earmarked for kickbacks. A specific figure of Php 52 billion is being scrutinized, with claims that “delivery boys” and undersecretaries facilitated the transfer of funds. The description of the operation reads like a crime thriller: armored vans packed with cash, allegedly parked in the basements of luxury hotels like the Diamond Hotel, waiting to be transferred to private vehicles.

One account details a delivery of nearly Php 2 billion in a single transaction—money that was reportedly “hoarded” or accumulated because deliveries were paused during the impending arrest of former President Duterte, creating a backlog of illicit cash.

However, political observers are noting a curious angle in Senator Lacson’s exposés. While the Senator is vigorously exposing the “minions” and undersecretaries—naming individuals like Usec. Bernardo and Usec. Olivar—there appears to be a concerted effort to shield the President and Speaker Martin Romualdez from direct culpability. The narrative being spun by some investigators is that these underlings used the President’s name without his knowledge. But the public, and vocal critics online, are not buying it. The sheer scale of the operation—involving billions of pesos and brazen logistics—leads many to doubt that this could happen without the blessing, or at least the knowledge, of the very top.

Sandro: The “Visual” Controversy

As if corruption and political betrayal weren’t enough, the internet has reignited a deeply personal and sensational controversy regarding Ilocos Norte Representative Sandro Marcos. A wave of online commentary is challenging his lineage, boldly asking: “Is he really the son of BBM?”

Social media feeds are inundated with side-by-side photo comparisons. On one hand, netizens are posting photos of President Bongbong Marcos beside his late father, Ferdinand Marcos Sr., highlighting the undeniable physical resemblance—the eyes, the ears, the facial structure. They argue that the “Marcos gene” is strong and visually dominant.

On the other hand, they place photos of Sandro Marcos next to his father and grandfather, pointing out the lack of similar features. This visual analysis has fueled wild conspiracy theories suggesting that Sandro might not share the Marcos bloodline at all. While these rumors have existed in the dark corners of the internet for years, they are now being weaponized by political opponents to question the legitimacy of the political dynasty’s future. If the “heir apparent” is perceived as illegitimate in the eyes of loyalists, it strikes a blow to the narrative of a continuing legacy.

The “Unfit” President Narrative

Underlying all these specific scandals is a growing chorus of voices questioning the President’s fitness to lead. Commentators are analyzing his body language, pointing out what they call “micro-expressions” of deceit. They highlight his tendency to laugh nervously—a “short burst of laughter”—before answering difficult questions about hidden wealth or national issues, interpreting this as a “tell” of dishonesty.

Furthermore, serious allegations regarding substance history continue to plague the Chief Executive. Critics argue that the erratic decision-making, the laziness perceived by some, and the “sociopathic” disregard for allies like Bersamin are symptoms of a deeper personal struggle. The commentary is harsh and unforgiving, painting a portrait of a leader who is disconnected from the reality of his people and focused solely on self-preservation.

A House of Cards?

The convergence of these three storms—the Bersamin purge, the corruption exposure, and the personal family attacks—suggests an administration in freefall. The “UniTeam” that swept into power appears to be dissolving into warring factions. The “Solid North” is showing cracks as loyalties are tested.

For the Filipino people, the picture is grim. It portrays a government consumed by infighting and money-making schemes while the nation watches in disbelief. The removal of Bersamin acts as a signal flare: no one is safe, loyalty is fleeting, and the ship is taking on water.

As Senator Lacson continues his “investigation” and more whistleblowers potentially come forward, the question remains: Will the President be able to distance himself from the stench of corruption, or will the trail of the “armored vans” lead all the way to the Palace gates? And in the court of public opinion, can the Marcos dynasty survive the scrutiny of its own bloodline? The drama is far from over, and the next episode promises to be even more explosive.