In the high-stakes theater of Philippine politics, strategy is everything, and a single miscalculation can lead to a cascading series of events that changes the entire landscape. Recently, the nation witnessed what many political analysts and ordinary citizens alike are calling a spectacular “backfire.” For months, the momentum seemed to be with the critics of the previous administration, specifically those driving the Quad Committee hearings. The objective appeared clear to many observers: to dismantle the legacy of former President Rodrigo Duterte, erode his political capital, and perhaps pave the way for a new dominant force leading into the 2025 midterm elections. However, as the dust begins to settle, it is becoming increasingly apparent that the arrow aimed at the former leader has not only missed its mark but has boomeranged with devastating precision, hitting the archers themselves. The atmosphere in the halls of power has shifted from confidence to a palpable sense of anxiety, proving the age-old adage that regret truly comes at the end.

The hearings were marketed as a pursuit of truth and justice, a necessary deep dive into the policies of the past six years. Yet, to the viewing public, the optics told a different story. When former President Duterte appeared before the inquiry, many expected a diminished figure, a man cornered by allegations and age. Instead, the country saw a flash of the old fire. He did not cower; he commanded the room. He did not offer meek apologies; he doubled down on his principles. For his detractors, this was the first sign that their plan was unraveling. By giving him a platform and a microphone, they inadvertently handed him a campaign rally. They reminded the electorate of the very traits—boldness, defiance, and a distinct lack of filter—that swept him to power in 2016. Instead of a trial, the hearings became a showcase, and the social media engagement metrics skyrocketed, not in condemnation, but in renewed support for the “Tatay” of the masses.

However, the “backfire” is not merely about the resilience of one man; it is about what the investigations distracted the public from, and what they inadvertently drew attention to. While the legislative focus was laser-fixed on the past administration’s war on illegal substances, the current administration was grappling with severe criticisms regarding infrastructure and disaster management. The irony was lost on no one. As lawmakers grilled witnesses about past operations, the streets of Metro Manila and neighboring provinces were submerged in floodwaters. The questioning of past budgets opened a Pandora’s box regarding the current allocation of funds. The public began to ask uncomfortable questions: If the previous administration is the villain, why are we currently drowning despite billions of pesos allocated for flood control?

This line of questioning brought to light the controversy surrounding the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) and the mysterious case of Undersecretary Cabral. The narrative shifted from the alleged sins of the Duterte era to the potential corruption happening in real-time. The “Cabral Files” and the talk of massive budget insertions for flood control projects that seem to exist only on paper have become the new focal point of public discourse. It appears that in their zeal to expose the flaws of the past, the current leadership exposed their own vulnerabilities. The scrutiny they invited upon the government’s machinery has now turned its lens toward the billions of unexplainable wealth and the questionable distribution of infrastructure projects in the present day.

The psychological impact on the Filipino voter cannot be overstated. There is a deep-seated cultural aversion to what is perceived as “ganging up” on an elder, especially one who served the country. The aggressive posturing of some committee members, contrasted with the former President’s composed defiance, triggered a wave of sympathy. It painted the accusers as bullies and the accused as an underdog—a label that is politically potent in the Philippines. This sentiment was compounded by the growing frustration over the price of goods, the traffic, and the flooding. The contrast became sharp: the previous administration was associated with political will and action, while the current proceedings felt like politicking while the nation faced tangible crises. The public started to view the hearings not as a quest for justice, but as a distraction from the government’s failure to deliver on its own promises.

As we look toward the 2025 elections, the consequences of this strategic blunder are becoming clear. The “Duterte Magic,” which critics hoped to extinguish, has been fanned into a flame. Candidates aligned with the former President are seeing a resurgence in their survey numbers, while those who were most vocal in the hearings are facing a skeptical electorate. The “flood control scam” has provided the opposition with a powerful weapon to use on the campaign trail. Every time it rains and the waters rise, the voters will remember the billions of pesos discussed in the news—not the funds from the drug war, but the funds that were supposed to keep them dry today. The narrative has shifted from “accountability for the past” to “competence in the present,” a battlefield where the current administration is finding itself increasingly on the defensive.

Furthermore, the internal cohesion of the ruling coalition is showing signs of fracture. The confidence that defined the early days of the administration is being replaced by finger-pointing and quiet panic. Rumors of realignments and secret alliances are swirling as politicians, ever the pragmatists, sense the changing of the winds. Those who went all-in on the strategy of attacking the Dutertes are now finding themselves isolated, realizing that they may have bet on the wrong horse. The silence from some quarters is deafening, a stark contrast to the noise they made just a few months ago. It is a classic case of political overreach, where the desire to destroy a rival blinded them to the reality of public sentiment and their own glass houses.

Ultimately, this saga serves as a cautionary tale about the unpredictable nature of populist politics. You cannot dismantle a movement with inquiries alone, especially when that movement is built on a deep emotional connection with the people. The “backfire” was not caused by a single event, but by a fundamental misunderstanding of the public pulse. The people are tired of political drama; they want results. By focusing so heavily on the past, the current leadership neglected the present, and in doing so, they handed their opponents the keys to the future. The regret mentioned in the source material is likely just beginning to set in. As the next election cycle approaches, the ghost of this failed strategy will likely haunt the ballot boxes, proving once and for all that in the game of thrones, if you strike at the king, you better not miss—and in this case, they not only missed, but they also dropped their own shield in the process.