TRADITION, parliamentary courtesy.

Three words that resonated in the meeting rooms of the House of Representatives in the last two weeks or so as the Committee on Appropriations and its various subcommittees held public hearings on the proposed 2025 national budget.

This happens almost every year whenever the House tackles the budgets of the Office of the President and the Office of the Vice President.

Every year, except perhaps this year, the proposed budgets of the OP and OVP breezed through the House in a matter of minutes—in keeping with what House members call “tradition of parliamentary courtesy.”

What exactly does this mean and what are its implications?

Cambridge Dictionary defines tradition as “a belief, a principle, or a way of acting or behaving that people in a particular society or group have continued to follow for a long time.”

Parliamentary is anything related to or characteristic of parliament (a parliament is a law-making body like our Congress), while courtesy is polite behavior, or a polite action or remark.

In our own tongue, courtesy is pag-galang, kagandahang asal.

So when we say “tradition of parliamentary courtesy,” it means a long-standing practice of the Congress composed of the House and the Senate—to respect the powers and prerogatives of the co-equal branches of government, the Executive headed by the President and the Judiciary represented by the Supreme Court, and how the two branches conduct their affairs.

There is also such a practice as inter-parliamentary courtesy, which simply means that neither the House nor the Senate or any of their members encroaches on each other’s business and affairs.

But when it comes to budget deliberations, the House seems to have a different view.

They have equated parliamentary courtesy with “not asking any questions about the budgets of the OP and the OVP and how they are spent or are supposed to be spent.”

And so, “in keeping with the tradition of giving the OP and the OVP parliamentary courtesy,” they have been passing the budgets of these offices with nary a single question asked and with absolute dispatch— within seven minutes last year for the OVP and within 13 minutes this year for the OP.

But this year took a different turn for the OVP, and heated exchanges, in fact, took place among the members of the appropriations committee, leading to a huge cut in the OVP budget from P2.7 billion to just over P600 million.

To be sure, parliamentary courtesy has nothing to do with asking or not asking questions about the budget of the OP, OVP, or the Supreme Court.

The Constitution, in fact, vests upon Congress the sole power to appropriate the people’s money for any and all government expenditures. And when the President submits the Expenditure Program for Congressional action, it becomes incumbent upon the Congress that in scrutinizing the budget, it must do so—as former President Ramos said in one of his budget messages to Congress—”not just to count every peso, but to make sure every peso counts.”

The Constitution does not distinguish between offices. It does not say what budget for whose office may or may not be questioned by Congress. In fact, members of the Congress themselves should, as a matter of duty, question their own budgets—because if they don’t, nobody else will.

The thing is, I have yet to hear parliamentary courtesy invoked in the case of the Judiciary budget. It has only been invoked for the OP and OVP, as a matter of tradition.

The clerk of court of the Supreme Court appears before the House committee and is asked about the budgets of the SC and those of the other courts.

And this is despite Article VIII, Section 3 of the 1987 Constitution which states that “The Judiciary shall enjoy fiscal autonomy.”

The truth is that Congress will not only be remiss but will be committing “dereliction of duty” the moment it stops asking questions about the budget of any government office.

Of course, Congress may adopt a tradition of not asking the OP and OVP any question about their budgets, and approve them in 15 minutes—as a matter of courtesy, whatever that means. But traditions are not cast in stone and there is always such a thing as breaking with tradition. Because sometimes, it is for the good.

Besides, asking questions has nothing to do with courtesy—because one can ask any question with utmost courtesy to the one being asked and the office they represent.

Of course, courtesy—be it parliamentary, executive or judicial courtesy—is a two-way street.  It is mutual. It can’t be the exclusive domain of one party to the act.

And in the House or the Senate, more often than not, we are witness to the lack or total absence of courtesy, pag-galang or kagandahang asal among the members of the two chambers. Sometimes, they can’t be courteous even to each other.

If my grandmother were still alive and is able to watch Congressional hearings and sessions on TV or the Internet, I’m pretty sure I will hear her scream: “Itong mga taong ito walang galang at hindi maganda ang asal.”

And that has been their long-standing, time-honored tradition.