Next in line

As recently as six years ago, even our elected officials would routinely flunk the trivial pursuit challenge of who’s next on the Presidential line of succession. The most common misconception involved the Chief Justice as next in line to succeed if the Vice President, the Senate President and Speaker were incapacitated.

In reality, the only line in which the Chief Justice would succeed the Speaker is in the order of precedence a.k.a. the formal protocol at official events. There, the Chief Justice succeeds the Speaker and precedes the Secretary of Foreign Affairs. The Chief is at No. 6, instead of the 5 of her protocol car plate. Such is the case because, for formal events, it is the past Presidents who are 3rd on the totem pole. Accordingly, the Senate President, Speaker and Chief Justice are all bumped down a notch.

Talking about succeeding to an office when the incumbent still lives and breathes is a sensitive proposition, specially in a country which counts sense of propriety as a defining trait. In his usual avuncular way, President Rodrigo Roa Duterte (PRRD) desensitized the topic by reverse death threat - painting his death aboard a crashing Air Force One as the Vice President’s dream scenario. Her demure protestations followed.

Ok. What if? Of course, the Vice President succeeds. Yes, notwithstanding the pending protest of the close result before the Presidential Electoral Tribunal (PET), Leonor Robredo gets to sit until her victory is overturned. Meaning? Even if she should succeed to the Presidency, she can still be unseated if the PET upholds the Marcos Jr. protest. This is Senator Bongbong’s dream scenario (Comelec Chair Andy Bautista earned his four centavos when he cautioned both Robredo and Marcos camps to hold off on the drum banging. The protest is pending. Trust the process.).

If both the President and the Vice President were to die, be permanently disabled, be removed from office or resign, the Senate President, or if unavailable, the Speaker of the House would act as President until a President and Vice President are elected. The line of succession ends here, at the door of the Speaker.

American style. In the US, the succession conga line includes the members of the President’s Cabinet, with the Secretary of State in 5th position and the list going on to 13 or 14 names. Naturally, this leads to debates on who between elected and appointed should be preferred; should the successor come from the executive branch or the legislative? As in the Philippines, the Chief Justice isn’t on the list.

But the true nightmare scenario is if everyone on the list becomes incapacitated to serve. Once roundly rejected as implausible, this prospect can no longer be dismissed as farfetched. Today, terrorism, nuclear attacks and biological warfare are a fact of life. In the US, a Continuity of Government Commission was established in 2003. It was tasked to recommend improvements to the presidential succession model. One of their primary concerns was this: the men and women on the succession lineup all lived and worked in Washington D.C. If they were to be wiped out in an attack on the capital, who would be left to govern?

Now I’m scared. Under our old 1935 Constitution, per Republic Act 181 of 1947, Congress was to choose the next in line from among their ranks (of course). The new 1987 Constitution provides that Congress determines who should act as president if all actors were incapacitated – and, this time, they are not limited to choosing a Senator or a Congressman. To date, Congress has yet to make that determination. But under the same nightmare scenario, with the Senate and House members all in one place, how difficult would it be to subvert that option? The vacuum of leadership that would ensue leaves us all vulnerable.

Lest we be caught sleeping at the wheel (or the pansitan), we should seriously rouse ourselves from the inertia and address the inadequacies of our succession mechanisms. Immediately, a Presidential succession act and, definitely, a debate on the matter in the upcoming Constitutional Convention or Constituent Assembly. Even popular culture has overtaken us with interesting plots on designated survivors in literature, television and movies.

The whole point is the need for continuity. As Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile quipped: no need to worry, there is always somebody. As it is, if anything were to happen to the President – our national rallying point, our security blanket – it would already be a burden too difficult to imagine. What more if we were to suddenly find ourselves without a leader or, worse, with a leader who has no legal basis to rule?

What if temporary? Now if only that were all there is to it.  Unfortunately, the inadequacies do not end there. If you thought permanent disability was a load, think temporary disability. Situations as simple as a President being anesthesized to undergo  surgery are not clearly explained in the Constitution or the statute books. The closest applicable provision is the requirement that the President declare to the Senate President and the Speaker his inability to discharge the power and duties of his office. The Vice President would then act as President. Reductio ad absurdum, this should apply even while, for example, he is having his tooth pulled.

All hell may not break loose should he forget to do so. But for the duration of his temporary inability – whether for an hour, a day, a week, who would be in charge? The permutations are endless and fascinating. But even as they enthrall the intellectually curious, what it really does is endanger the nation if not finally and properly addressed.

Health – no law requiring disclosure. Statistics in other countries – while acknowledge importance, significant majority would likely say it is a private matter.