Senate Smackdown or Executive Endgame? Remulla’s Ironclad Stand Against a Witch Hunt

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — April 12, 2025

WHEN PNP Chief Rommel Marbil played the executive privilege card at the Senate’s April 10, 2025, circus over former President Rodrigo Duterte’s ICC arrest, he didn’t just dodge a bullet—he sparked a constitutional showdown. DOJ Secretary Boying Remulla, with a verbal jab accusing senators of “bullying” and “fishing for dirt,” exposed the inquiry as less about lawmaking and more about political vengeance. Sens. Bato Dela Rosa and Imee Marcos turned the chamber into a stage for grandstanding, but Remulla’s defense of executive turf held firm. Let’s slice through the Senate’s bluster and see why Remulla’s stance is a legal fortress, while the inquiry teeters on the edge of a constitutional clown show.

Marbil’s Privilege Gambit: Bold Move or Epic Faceplant?

Marbil’s attempt to hide behind executive privilege when grilled about Duterte’s arrest was a high-stakes roll of the dice—one that might’ve landed in the gutter. Senate v. Ermita [ G.R. NO. 169777, April 20, 2006 ] lays it out cold: only the President or Executive Secretary can wield that shield, and Marbil’s badge doesn’t come with that clearance. Neri v. Senate [ G.R. No. 180643, March 25, 2008 ] doubles down, saying privilege covers things like state secrets, not who signed off on a headline-grabbing bust. Asking for the arrest’s chain of command isn’t exactly cracking open nuclear codes, so Marbil’s dodge looks more like a rookie error than a masterstroke.

But hold the gavel—Remulla didn’t let Marbil’s fumble define the fight. He reframed privilege as a firewall against Senate strong-arming, leaning on Ermita and Neri to argue that the executive doesn’t owe senators a play-by-play. Separation of powers isn’t just a buzzword; it’s a constitutional moat, and Remulla’s defense keeps the Senate’s claws at bay. Marbil may have stumbled, but Remulla’s pivot makes the privilege claim a strategic win.

Constitutional Cover or Senatorial Soap Opera?

The Senate’s probe, draped in the lofty mantle of Article VI, Section 21, is supposed to be “in aid of legislation.” But when Dela Rosa erupts with “Nandito na tayo, executive privilege ka diyan!” and Marcos sneers, “Bakit naging executive privilege bigla?”, it feels more like a reality TV showdown than a policy powwow. The Constitution demands inquiries tie to lawmaking—say, drafting rules for ICC cooperation or human rights. Instead, the senators’ obsession with nailing down Duterte’s arrest order screams criminal probe, not legislative blueprint. Standard Chartered Bank v. Senate [ G.R. No. 167173, December 27, 2007 ] warns against turning inquiries into witch hunts, and this one’s practically burning torches.

Dela Rosa’s nitpicking over “orders” versus “clearance” is peak pettiness—a tantrum, not a policy push. Remulla’s upfront admission that DOJ gave legal clearance should’ve ended the grilling, but the senators kept swinging, desperate for a viral clip. This isn’t oversight; it’s overreach. Remulla’s “bullying” jab isn’t just spicy—it’s a spotlight on a probe that’s lost its constitutional compass.

Duterte’s ICC Hand-Off: Sovereign Sellout or Executive Checkmate?

Duterte’s arrest and jet-setting to The Hague is a legal labyrinth, but Remulla’s DOJ threaded the needle like pros. The Philippines ditched the Rome Statute in 2019, yet Article 127(2) keeps the ICC’s claws in crimes from 2011–2019—Duterte’s drug war fits like a glove. The arrest, backed by an ICC warrant, clears Article III, Section 2’s hurdle for competent authority, with DOJ’s clearance sealing the deal. Sovereignty hawks like Marcos and Dela Rosa cry betrayal, but Bayan Muna v. Romulo (G.R. No. 159618, 2011) says international teamwork doesn’t mean waving a white flag.

Remulla’s candor about DOJ’s advisory role—even from abroad—shows he’s not hiding cards. The executive’s call to honor the warrant was a power move, not a legal mandate, balancing global street cred with home-front control. The Senate’s whining about “who gave the order” misses the real question: why not legislate clearer ICC rules? Remulla’s playing chess while the Senate’s stuck on checkers.

Remulla’s Bullying Bomb: Nailing the Senate’s Bad Vibes

Remulla’s “bullying” accusation isn’t just a zinger—it’s a legal Molotov cocktail lobbed at the Senate’s ego. Dela Rosa’s meltdown and Marcos’s snarky quips crossed into badgering, flouting Senate rules and Standard Chartered’s call for witness respect. Inquiries aren’t meant to be gladiatorial arenas, but the senators’ relentless push to force confessions screams vendetta, not accountability. Remulla’s clapback—“you are trying to make people admit something that they will not admit”—lays bare the inquiry’s true aim: political blood, not public good.

Dela Rosa’s Duterte loyalty adds a personal edge, making his “truth-seeking” look like a grudge match. Remulla, by contrast, stays cool, owning DOJ’s role without bowing to the Senate’s script. His stand isn’t just about saving face—it’s about saving the executive from legislative overreach. Checkmate.

Cabinet’s Ghosting Act: Cowardice or Constitutional Swagger?

The Cabinet’s no-show at the April 3 hearing, waving the flag of a pending Supreme Court case, had senators fuming—but Remulla’s got a case. Executive Secretary Lucas Bersamin’s claim that one appearance was enough, especially with litigation looming, leans on Senate v. Ermita’s blessing for skipping overreaching probes. This isn’t dodging; it’s deference to the judiciary, keeping the executive’s powder dry while the Court sorts out Duterte’s arrest.

The Senate’s outrage ignores its own role in turning the inquiry into a pressure cooker. By dialing up the drama, they pushed the executive to play hardball. Remulla’s crew isn’t running from accountability—they’re running circles around a probe that’s more spectacle than substance.

Sovereignty Scare or Global Power Play?

The Senate’s sovereignty panic—painting ICC cooperation as a national gut-punch—is pure melodrama. Handing Duterte to The Hague doesn’t torch Philippine independence; it’s a calculated flex. Bayan Muna says international deals must serve the nation, and Remulla’s DOJ chose compliance to boost global clout without losing local grip. The Senate’s fixation on “who gave the order” sidesteps the real issue: why not legislate a post-ICC game plan?

Remulla’s transparency about DOJ’s clearances contrasts with the Senate’s foggy agenda. His stance isn’t about caving to the ICC—it’s about owning the narrative, proving the executive can play ball internationally while keeping sovereignty locked down.

Fixing the Chaos: Bold Moves for All

Executive Branch:

Marbil’s privilege flub screams for a playbook. Lock in rules—written presidential or Executive Secretary sign-off only—to keep privilege bulletproof. Clear protocols mean less drama, more dominance.

Senate:

Drop the soap opera and legislate. Want ICC clarity? Write a law on post-withdrawal rules or human rights safeguards. Quit chasing viral moments; inquiries should birth bills, not bruises. And maybe cool it with the shouting—Dela Rosa’s theatrics aren’t winning any gavels.

Public:

Demand the real deal. The executive shouldn’t cloak itself in privilege without cause, but the Senate’s stunt show is just as gross. Push for independent checks on inquiries to sift truth from trash.

Final Blow: Remulla’s Triumph Over Senate Shenanigans

Remulla didn’t just weather the April 10 storm—he owned it. His “bullying” charge isn’t hot air; it’s a battle cry against a Senate confusing oversight with obsession. Marbil’s privilege slip was a hiccup, but Remulla’s defense—built on separation of powers and DOJ’s upfront role—stands like concrete. The Senate’s probe, meanwhile, is a house of cards, all bluster and no bills. If this is “in aid of legislation,” someone forgot the law part. Remulla’s drawn a line in the sand, and the Senate’s tripping over it.

Disclaimer: This is legal jazz, not gospel. It’s all about interpretation, not absolutes. So, listen closely, but don’t take it as the final word.