OF TREES AND FOREST
I write these words not just as a former colleague, but as one who had the privilege of sharing with Speaker Joe de Venecia the burden—and the joy—of shaping our nation’s path. When I served as Senate President while he led the House, we stood on opposite ends of the same hall, but our purpose was united: to move the country forward despite politics, personalities, or pride. Those were years when consensus was not merely a word but a discipline, and when compromise, guided by respect and trust, made governance possible.
Manong Joe had an unshakeable love for the Philippines—a love that always drove him to find common ground. He believed that the highest duty of a public servant was to find the space where all sides could meet, where progress could begin. As Speaker and leader of 250 members of Congress, He distinguished himself most brilliantly as a consensus-builder. He had a rare ability to see beyond pride and politics, and he used that gift to turn disagreement into dialogue, and dialogue into action. He built bridges across the aisle, and across continents, because he understood that the Filipino dream was larger than any quarrel or ambition.
I had a front-row seat to Speaker De Venecia’s remarkable gift for uniting people behind a common vision for the nation when I first entered Congress in 1992. That same year, during my freshman term, he, too, was elected Speaker of the House. What struck me most was his rare ability to build the so-called “rainbow coalition” — a tapestry of political forces drawn from across the ideological spectrum. JDV managed to bring together leaders of differing loyalties and convictions, binding them with a shared sense of purpose for national renewal. Witnessing his leadership up close was to see politics transformed from mere competition into a collective enterprise of nation-building.
In the turbulent years after the 1986 revolution, when our institutions were still fragile and our democracy newly restored, JDV’s leadership in the House helped bring stability to government. During President Fidel V. Ramos’s term, his support for the administration’s liberalization and modernization programs was crucial in restoring international confidence in the Philippine economy. The bold reforms of that era—the deregulation of key industries, the Build-Operate-Transfer law that revived infrastructure, and the peace initiatives in Mindanao—were made possible because Speaker De Venecia, through the “rainbow coalition,” ensured that Congress moved as one.
Some of his decisions invited criticism, often unfairly, but history has proven that they were essential acts of courage. Compromise may have acquired a bad reputation in the lexicon of politics, but my experience in Congress has shown that compromise—when people of differing perspectives meet at the middle where the interests of the country lie—is what moves government. It was this kind of principled compromise, guided by trust and shared vision, that allowed the Ramos administration to deliver a period of political stability and economic revival after decades of upheaval.
This is precisely why the country needs a public servant with the qualities of JDV today. In an age when division too often defines public life, we need leaders who can reconcile differences without erasing conviction, who can see the long horizon beyond the noise of the moment. We need bridge-builders, not headline-chasers; patriots, not partisans. Joe’s legacy reminds us that vision must always be matched by patience, and that progress is not born from shouting but from steady, principled dialogue.
And of course, we all remember his unmatched command of numbers and superlatives. He could summon statistics faster than anyone in the room—figures about the economy, trade, population, energy, or the achievements of the House—always with that infectious enthusiasm. You could never outnumber Joe de Venecia. His mastery of detail came from that same devotion: he wanted to know everything, because he wanted to help everyone.
In the House and beyond, JDV’s gift was to see possibility where others saw deadlock. He turned vision into motion, and motion into results. For him, service was not a posture but a practice—steady, pragmatic, and always anchored in hope for our people. Today, as we say farewell, we honor not only a statesman but a true patriot who spent his life proving that love of country is best measured by one’s willingness to listen, to reconcile, and to carry on.
Paalam, Manong Joe, at maraming salamat!
(This article is an expanded version of the eulogy I delivered during the memorial services honoring former House Speaker Jose de Venecia, Jr.)