Right off the bat, the most obvious difference between the 1987 Constitution’s and the Bayanihan Federalism Charter’s Article on Suffrage is length. The former is all of two Sections long; the latter, a gargantuan eight. More than that, the Bayanihan Charter introduces several new ideas that are worth diving deep into. Take the draft Charter’s anti-dynasty provision as an example.
Unlike the 1987 Constitution, the Bayanihan Charter actually ventures into defining dynasties (Article V, Section 8a), and prohibiting certain classes of people from standing for election (Article V, Sections 8b,c). The Bayanihan Charter scores big for at least making the attempt to wrangle with this intrinsically contentious and sensitive issue. Unfortunately, the outcome of the effort also falls far short in terms of clarity.
First, the declaration of principle (i.e., the first paragraph of the Section) spells out the State’s interest in preventing the formation of dynasties—to “prevent the concentration, consolidation, or perpetuation of political power in persons related to one another.”
Obviously, there is no jurisprudence on this yet, but it’s a safe bet that this declaration will come under a lot of scrutiny as political families try to wriggle out from under this anti-dynasty sledgehammer. It can be argued, for instance, that the State has no business imposing what would amount to prior restraint on both a person’s right to stand for office, and the voters’ right to select their representative in the government.
Second, Section 8(a) defines the conditions under which a dynasty can be said to exist. The key elements seem to be the existence of 1) a family, 2) whose members up to the 2nd degree of consanguinity or affinity, 3) maintain or are capable of maintaining political control, 4) by succession, or by simultaneously running for, or holding elective positions.
Apart from the fact that Section 8(a) declares that the legitimacy of the relationships is considered immaterial—and rightly so—this definition is incredibly vague and only spawns more questions than it answers. What does the provision mean by “capable of maintaining control?” Does this phrasing imply that mere capability is enough and that the actual control is not necessary? And what exactly does “political control” technically and legally mean anyway?
The clause that speaks of maintaining control “by succession” is no better. When we speak of succession and successors in the context of our democracy, we normally refer to holders of positions that—by law—are bound to step into a recently vacated position. Thus, if the presidency is vacated, the VP becomes the successor; if the VP goes, the Senate President steps in, and so on, down the line of succession. Is this what the Bayanihan Charter refers to? And what about the proscription against “simultaneously running or holding office?” Will this apply even if the elective offices concerned are in separate political subdivisions?
Again, these are things that’ll probably have to be threshed out in Court. For now, however, it would be good to be aware that this version of a Constitutional anti-dynasty provision is probably just as non-self-executory as its much bemoaned predecessor.
Third, Section 8 (c) might be the worst offender of all. This provision says that persons related within the second civil degree of consanguinity or affinity are “prohibited from running simultaneously for more than one national and one regional or local position. However, in the event that two or more members of the same family are running, the member who shall be allowed to be a candidate shall be determined by the drawing of lots.”
Let’s try to visualize that:
Maria, Marietta and Marissa are three generations of the same family—all within two degrees from each other. Since Section 8(c) says they cannot run, at the same time, for more than one national, regional, or local position, then it would seem that they can all run for the same position. But the second clause of Section 8(c) retorts: if two or more members of the same family—hence, Maria, Marietta and Marissa—are running, only one of them will be allowed to be a candidate. Does this mean, therefore, that when all is said and done, only one person from the family can actually run for the same level office? Why not just say so in the first place?
And why specify that lots need to be drawn? Does the State really need to concern itself with how family members resolve these differences?
If none of this is crystal clear to you, trust me: you are not alone. About the only thing I can definitively claim to understand completely with this particular part of the Bayanihan Charter’s Article on Suffrage is Section 8(d)—“The Federal Congress may, by law, provide for additional prohibitions.” It sure can, and I’m also fairly certain that didn’t actually need to be said.