
All the President’s Men
Word from within the walls of the palace is that the administration ticket for 2028 will be Jonvic Remulla and Vince Dizon.
An arguably raw duo, but not completely unexpected—among all the President’s men.
For those old enough to remember the Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman classic, perhaps one thing you don’t remember is what the title meant. It apparently alluded to the end of the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme:
“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.”
Fittingly poetic for the current collapsing state of the Bongbong Marcos regime.
Because with testimonies and speeches now pointing at Martin Romualdez, and this admin being ruled by public opinion, he’s the next logical one for Bongbong and Liza Marcos to push off their runaway carriage, as is the case for Zaldy and others.
Now with Boying Remulla as Ombudsman, they can begin picking off their political enemies—Sara Duterte, Chiz Escudero, and Risa Hontiveros, among others.
Let’s unpack.
Who was/is in the running?
Martin Romualdez—once the presumptive heir—is now the perfect liability. With corruption allegations piling up and the public narrative turning, he serves the palace’s best interest by disappearing into the background. You can’t be the heir and the fall guy at the same time.
Sara Duterte remains the biggest threat to the administration’s succession plans. Still the leading candidate, still with a potent DDS base that refuses to fade into the night. The Marcoses will pour all their resources into clipping her wings—lawfare, leaks, and bureaucratic slow suffocation disguised as due process.
Benjie Magalong is now suffering the wrath of the powers that be, boasting a short and bitter stint playing along with the administration’s investigations on ghost flood control projects. He projects decency and political will, yet lacks machinery or myth to break through. His virtue remains his ceiling.
Bam Aquino’s 20-million vote finish in 2025 signals the revival of the “Yellow” brand, but it also drags old ghosts: corruption fatigue from his uncle’s term, the dynasty question, and the emotional flatness of “good governance” in a nation addicted to drama. Civility without insurgency will likely not be enough to rally an increasingly angry public.
Leni Robredo remains luminous but disengaged—content in her quiet rebuilding of Naga, perhaps having learned the limits of moral politics in a system built on transactional loyalties. Will her blessing even matter as much by the time the pillars of smoke clear?
Risa Hontiveros emerges as the moral frontrunner for a non-Marcos, non-Duterte alternative. Young voters are drawn to her decency, and her politics are coherent. But she’s vulnerable to familiar traps: political isolation, the weight of past issues, and the piercing smear machinery that’s already being deployed to frame her as too “soft” for power.
Why Jonvic? Why Vince?
Jonvic Remulla brings the vote-rich Cavite bloc, the long political arms of having been the DILG chief, and a governor’s intuition for retail politics. He carries the charisma of competence and the loyalty of convenience. Within two years, his blend of feudal power and technocratic polish could evolve into presidential timber.
Vince Dizon is the poster boy of administrative continuity: a proven technocrat, the logistics brain behind Build, Build, Build, the pandemic czar, and a bridge between warring political tribes. He’s everything the system loves—efficient, loyal, apolitical when convenient. The kind of man who survives every regime because he understands the bureaucracy better than the politicians do.
Together, they form the perfect tandem for institutional survival—not a campaign, but a mechanism. The Marcoses’ bid to outlive their own dynasty.
In 2028, the question is not who will win, but who will inherit the ruins.
Because when all the king’s horses and all the king’s men finally realize they can’t put the empire back together again, they’ll do what they’ve always done:
Build a new one—on the same broken foundations.