From Guardians to Gravediggers: IBP and SC’s Betrayal in Duterte v. House

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — August 3, 2025


THE Integrated Bar of the Philippines (IBP) has donned its finest “rule of law” costume to applaud the Supreme Court’s ruling in Duterte v. House of Representatives, a decision that slammed the brakes on Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment. They call it a victory for “checks and balances.” We call it a judicial heist. With a Court packed with Duterte loyalists and an IBP playing sanctimonious sidekick, this isn’t about constitutional fidelity—it’s about protecting a dynasty while democracy takes a beating. Let’s carve through the IBP’s sanctimonious drivel with a chainsaw of legal precision and unapologetic sarcasm.


1. SHREDDING THE IBP’S “CONSTITUTIONAL HERO” COSPLAY

The IBP’s press release is a gushing ode to the Supreme Court’s “constitutional duty,” claiming its nullification of Sara Duterte’s impeachment complaint is a masterstroke of “checks and balances.” They lean on Article VIII, Section 1 of the 1987 Constitution, which grants the Court power to review “grave abuse of discretion.” But hold the applause—this is a judicial coup dressed up as principle.

Article XI, Section 3(1) clearly states, “The House of Representatives shall have the exclusive power to initiate all cases of impeachment.” Exclusive, IBP. Not “exclusive unless the Court feels like meddling.”

The Court’s reasoning hinges on the “one-year bar rule” (Article XI, Section 3(5)), which bars multiple impeachment attempts within a year. Four complaints were filed against Duterte between December 2024 and February 2025, but only the fourth—endorsed by over one-third of the House—reached the Senate. In a unanimous 13-0 ruling penned by Senior Associate Justice Marvic Leonen, the Court declared the first three complaints “terminated” on February 5, 2025, triggering the bar and voiding the fourth. Neat trick, except the House never formally acted on the first three. The IBP’s blind endorsement ignores this sleight of hand, pretending the Court’s retroactive fiat is constitutional scripture.

Contrast this with Francisco v. House of Representatives (G.R. No. 160261, 2003) and Gutierrez v. House of Representatives (G.R. No. 193459, 2011). In Francisco, the Court struck down a second impeachment against Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr. for violating the one-year bar but stressed that impeachment is a political question warranting judicial restraint. Gutierrez upheld the House’s initiation power against Ombudsman Merceditas Gutierrez, reinforcing deference to Congress.

Back then, the Court played nice. Now? It’s rewriting House rules, imposing new requirements (e.g., every signatory must read the complaint, respondents get pre-transmittal replies) nowhere found in the Constitution. The IBP’s “constitutionalist” cheerleading conveniently sidesteps this overreach.

And let’s talk judicial capture: 12 of 15 justices are Duterte appointees. The IBP’s failure to even whisper about this conflict of interest is malpractice-level cowardice. This isn’t a Court interpreting the law—it’s a Duterte fan club with gavels.


2. UNMASKING THE IBP’S COWARDLY MOTIVES: SPINE FOR HIRE

The IBP wants us to believe they’re defending the “architecture of Philippine democracy.” Spare us. Where was this courage during Rodrigo Duterte’s extrajudicial killings (EJKs), with thousands dead? Or when ABS-CBN was shuttered? Or when martial law hung over Mindanao? The IBP’s silence during those crises was louder than a jeepney horn.

But now, when it’s time to shield Sara Duterte, they’ve found their voice. Coincidence? Or just a convenient time to play constitutional hero?

Their statement—warning against “public defiance” of the Court—drips with elitism: “The Constitution demands adherence, not agreement.” Translation: “Peasants, shut up and obey.” This isn’t about the rule of law; it’s about the IBP protecting its own relevance. As the self-appointed moral compass of Philippine lawyers, they can’t afford to let the Court’s legitimacy crumble—because their own clout would follow.

Their “rule of law” sermon is gaslighting 101, deflecting from a ruling that reeks of dynastic favoritism. The IBP’s selective outrage betrays their motives. They stayed mute when Duterte’s allies jailed Leila de Lima on flimsy charges but now clutch pearls over “legal order”? This is calculated, not principled.

They’re betting on the Duterte dynasty’s staying power, cozying up to a Court that’s more Duterte fortress than impartial arbiter. The IBP’s spine only grows when the political heat is low—cowardice dressed in constitutional drag.


3. DEMOCRACY’S OBITUARY: HOW THIS RULING BURIES ACCOUNTABILITY

If the IBP thinks this ruling strengthens democracy, they’re reading a Constitution from an alternate universe. By killing Sara Duterte’s impeachment, the Court didn’t just pause a trial—it neutered the House’s ability to hold high officials accountable.

Impeachment, per Article XI, Section 3, is the ultimate check on power. When the Court can veto it on a technicality, it hands the executive a get-out-of-jail-free card. A vice president immune until February 2026? That’s not democracy—that’s dynastic impunity.

The Court’s retroactive nullification of the impeachment complaints spits in the face of the operative fact doctrine (Film Dev’t Council v. Colon Heritage Realty), which respects actions taken under prior rules. The House followed existing procedures, only for the Court to rewrite history and declare the complaints void ab initio. This isn’t justice—it’s a rigged game.

The public, already wary of a Duterte-stacked Court, now has more reason to distrust the system. Critics like Rep. Leila de Lima and UP’s Aries Arugay, cited in Kwebanibarok, call this ruling a “Duterte legacy protection racket.”

The IBP’s claim that it “empowers the governed” is straight-up Orwellian. Public trust in the Supreme Court is at an all-time low, and the IBP’s fawning endorsement only fans the flames. By framing dissent as “dangerous erosion,” they’re not defending democracy—they’re silencing it. This ruling doesn’t balance powers; it buries them.


4. REDEMPTION OR BUST: HOW THE IBP CAN STOP BEING A JUDICIAL LAPDOG

The IBP could salvage its shredded credibility, but it’ll take more than press releases. Here’s how they can stop embarrassing themselves:

  • Demand Recusals of Duterte’s Justices: Twelve Duterte-appointed justices ruling on a Duterte case? The conflict of interest is so blatant it’s practically a neon sign. The IBP must call for recusals to restore impartiality. Anything less is complicity.
  • Own the Political Stench: Stop pretending this is a pure legal exercise. Acknowledge the Duterte dynasty’s shadow and the 2028 election looming. Transparency, not denial, might earn the IBP some trust.
  • Push Real Reforms: If impeachment is broken, don’t just cheer the Court’s power grab—fix it. Propose clarifying the one-year bar rule, streamlining House procedures, or amending the Constitution. The IBP’s job is to strengthen accountability, not polish the Court’s boots.

FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN: IBP AND SC, GRAVEDIGGERS OF DEMOCRACY

The IBP’s defense of Duterte v. House isn’t a stand for the Constitution—it’s a betrayal of it. By endorsing a ruling that shields Sara Duterte and cripples impeachment, the IBP is complicit in a judicial heist that prioritizes dynastic power over public accountability.

Their “rule of law” sermon is a hollow performance, masking cowardice and elitism. The Supreme Court didn’t interpret the Constitution—it performed a hit job on democracy, and the IBP handed them the knife.

To the IBP: your constitutional cosplay isn’t fooling anyone. Democracy’s on life support, and you’re holding the plug.


Key Citations


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.


Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo

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