Eulogy of Senator Loren Legarda for Former House Speaker Jose de Venecia Jr. | February 16, 2026

How do we measure the life of a man who always seemed to stand at the crossroads of our nation’s story?

Today, I speak not only as a Senator of the Republic, but as one of the many whose paths were defined by the generosity and faith of former Speaker Jose de Venecia Jr.

He was our beloved Manong Joe – a statesman to the world, a peacemaker in times of division, but to many of us, a mentor and a friend. I probably would not be a Senator today if, in 1997, Manong Joe hadn’t brought me into his Lakas party. I was then a 37-year-old journalist, far from imagining a career in the Senate. He believed in my capabilities long before I did. He shared his knowledge and wisdom, opened doors that I did not even know existed, and insisted that my voice and the voices of everyday Filipinos have a place in the great conversation about our nation’s future.

What I will remember most is not his unprecedented five terms as Speaker, nor the many organizations he founded and led across Asia and the world. I will remember the quiet conversations, the sincere words of encouragement, the way he made you feel that your work and your voice mattered.

When he told you that you could do more, you believed him, because he had already given so much of himself to the country he loved.

In one of his recent articles, Manong Joe wrote: “Public office is both a privilege and a crucible. It tests your resolve, challenges your principles, and demands sacrifices not only from you but also from your loved ones.”

Those words ring painfully true today. They remind us that behind every achievement in his long career stood a man who knew the cost of service to himself and to his devoted wife, Cong. Gina, to their children, and to the family that shared him with the nation. His reflection is also a gentle reminder to all of us who remain in public service that the position we hold is temporary, but the integrity with which we bear its burdens will outlast us.

Manong Joe or JDV lived that truth. He helped steer our country through turbulent post-Martial Law years, building the “Rainbow Coalition” that enabled long- needed reforms to pass and helping to heal the fractures in our democracy. He championed laws that converted former military bases into engines of development, opened our economy to new partnerships, and gave overseas Filipino workers a dignified way to support their families. He reached out to those who had once stood on the other side of conflicts, not because it was convenient, but because he believed that peace, however challenging, was always worth taking a risk for.

Yet if you spoke with him away from the podiums and the plenary halls, he did not talk first about history or legacy. He talked about people, the farmer who would gain from a new economic zone, the overseas worker whose remittances would put a child through school, the young public servant who only needed one word of encouragement to keep going. For him, politics was never simply about power. It was about building bridges between parties, between religions, between generations so that the Republic he loved could endure and become more humane, more inclusive, more at peace with itself.

I mourn today not only the country’s loss of a brilliant leader and statesman, but my own loss of a mentor and a dear friend. I will miss the occasional meetings, the thoughtful advice, and the gentle but firm reminders that we can always do better for our people. I will miss the way he could see beyond the crisis of the moment and speak instead of the kind of future we want for our country, and of our responsibility to bend it toward justice and peace.

To Cong. Gina and the de Venecia family, please know that we share your grief, but we also share your pride. In 2024, the Senate has already spoken in a resolution that honors former House Speaker Jose de Venecia Jr.’s illustrious career and his invaluable contributions to the country.

Today, I wish simply to add a more personal note that his greatest legacy is not only the institutions he built or the laws he passed, but the men and women he encouraged – that includes me – the younger leaders he formed, and the faith in this Republic that he passed on to us.

Rest in peace, our dear Manong Joe. We will honor you best not by our words today, but by the way we choose to serve the country every day.