The Supreme Court’s Duterte Disaster: When an ABS-CBN Clip Outranks the Constitution

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — August 28, 2025

STEP right up, folks, to the Supreme Court’s legal carnival, where their latest ruling is such a spectacular flop it could drive a first-year law student to tears over their Constitutional Law textbook. In its July 25, 2025, en banc ruling voiding the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte, the Court, led by Senior Associate Justice Marvic Leonen, didn’t just stumble—it belly-flopped into a cesspool of factual inaccuracy and procedural farce. Clutching an ABS-CBN news clip like a lifeline while the House Journal gathered dust, the Court has crafted a constitutional embarrassment for the ages. This isn’t judicial notice; it’s judicial malpractice. Let’s dissect this travesty with the glee of a prosecutor cross-examining a perjuring witness.

The Factual Fiasco: A News Report Over the Rule of Law

At the core of this scandal is a single, jaw-dropping line in the Court’s 97-page opus: the House of Representatives, it claims, transmitted the Articles of Impeachment to the Senate on February 5, 2025, “even without a plenary vote.” The source? Not the House Journal, not the official transcripts, not even a notarized affidavit from a Batasang Pambansa janitor—just a news report from ABS-CBN. One tiny problem: ABS-CBN clarified on August 6, 2025, that their coverage explicitly documented a plenary endorsement by 215 of 306 lawmakers. Oops. The Court’s fact-finding is so shoddy it would get laughed out of a first-year law school moot court, yet here we are, with a constitutional ruling built on quicksand.

Rule 129, Section 1 of the Revised Rules of Court (2020) is crystal clear: courts must take judicial notice of official legislative acts—think House Journals, transcripts, the works—without requiring evidence. The House’s plenary vote and subsequent transmission are textbook “official acts.” Yet, the Court, in a move that screams either incompetence or bad faith, opted for a media paraphrase over the primary record. This isn’t just a violation of Rule 129; it’s a middle finger to the rule of law. Roque v. COMELEC (G.R. No. 188456, 2010) already told us media reports are “untenable” as evidence when primary records exist, and Lagman v. Pimentel III (G.R. No. 235935, 2018) doubled down by leaning on congressional records for constitutional questions. The Court’s own precedents are screaming at it, but apparently, nobody in the ponente’s chambers bothered to listen.

Here’s the kicker: this isn’t a minor typo. The “no plenary vote” fiction is material to the ruling’s logic, propping up the Court’s claim that the impeachment was “prematurely transmitted” and thus void under the Constitution’s one-year bar (Article XI, Section 3(5)). Remove this false premise, and the entire house of cards collapses faster than a politician’s promise during election season. If the House voted, as the Journal, transcripts, and even ABS-CBN’s live coverage confirm, the Court’s reasoning is not just wrong—it’s a deliberate misconstruction of reality.

Procedural Farce: Hiding from the Truth

Let’s talk about the Court’s decision to skip oral arguments. One might think a case involving the impeachment of the Vice President—daughter of a former strongman, no less—would warrant a robust public airing. Instead, the Court slammed the door on oral arguments, leaving us to wonder: what were they afraid of? A pesky House Journal sneaking into the record? A lawmaker testifying under oath that, yes, they did vote? Former Justice Antonio Carpio, bless his incisive soul, called this out, noting that oral arguments could have exposed the factual error before it metastasized into a constitutional embarrassment. Rule 124, Section 18 of the Rules of Court permits oral arguments in constitutional cases, as seen in Francisco v. House of Representatives (G.R. No. 160261, 2003). By dodging this, the Court didn’t just cut corners—it bulldozed due process under Article III, Section 1.

Constitutional Overreach: A Judicial Shield for the Powerful

The Court’s expansive take on the “one-year bar” rule is another gem in this crown of thorns. Article XI, Section 3(5) says no impeachment proceedings shall be initiated against the same official more than once a year. Fair enough. But the Court stretched this to declare multiple complaints as a single “initiation,” voiding the entire process without a Senate trial. This isn’t interpretation; it’s judicial fan fiction, crafting a bulletproof vest for allies of the administration. By framing the impeachment as premature, the Court didn’t just halt accountability—it handed the Vice President a get-out-of-jail-free card, no questions asked. This smells less like constitutional fidelity and more like political bodyguard duty.

Ethical Bankruptcy: Violating the Code of Judicial Conduct

The New Code of Judicial Conduct (A.M. No. 03-05-01-SC) is supposed to be the judiciary’s moral compass, but the ponente and the majority seem to have tossed it into Manila Bay. Canon 3 demands competence and diligence, yet failing to verify a dispositive fact against the House Journal is the opposite of diligent—it’s dereliction. Canon 2 requires avoiding impropriety or its appearance, but what looks more improper than a ruling that misquotes a news report to shield a political titan? Canon 1 insists on judicial independence, but when the Court’s error conveniently aligns with the interests of the powerful, it’s hard not to raise an eyebrow. The public’s confidence in the judiciary, already battered, takes another hit when justices act like they’re auditioning for a tabloid editorial board.

The Apologists’ Feeble Defenses: Grasping at Straws

Cue the Court’s defenders, scrambling to polish this turd of a ruling:

“Harmless error!” they cry, claiming the factual slip doesn’t undermine the one-year bar logic. People v. Teehankee (G.R. No. 111206-08, 1995) might let minor errors slide, but when the error is the linchpin of the ruling’s rationale, it’s about as harmless as a typhoon in Tacloban.
“Judicial discretion!” they argue, citing Rule 129, Section 2’s allowance for noticing “publicly known” facts like news reports. Sure, Estrada v. Desierto (G.R. Nos. 146710-15, 2001) allowed media references for context, but not when they contradict official records!
“We didn’t have the Journal yet!”—if the Court couldn’t be bothered to check a public record, it’s not a defense; it’s an admission of laziness.
“Protecting against impeachment harassment!”—noble in theory, but when it’s built on a lie, it’s just a fancy excuse for impunity.

Each defense crumbles under scrutiny, leaving the Court’s ruling as naked as a politician’s promise in a corruption probe.

The Fallout: A Judiciary in Tatters

This ruling is a death-by-a-thousand-cuts to the rule of law. Public confidence in the judiciary, already on life support after cases like Sereno (G.R. No. 237428, 2018), takes another blow when the Supreme Court can’t distinguish a news clip from a constitutional mandate. Politically, the Court has officially entered the arena as the administration’s bodyguard, signaling to every corrupt official that the bench has their back—so long as the media spins the right story. For Filipinos, the impact is grim: accountability erodes, double standards flourish, and the dream of a just society slips further away. While the powerful dodge impeachment, ordinary citizens wait years for justice in crumbling courtrooms, a bitter violation of Article III, Section 14‘s promise of speedy trials.

The media-law relationship takes a hit too. By elevating a news report over the House Journal, the Court risks outsourcing fact-finding to outlets with varying standards, a precedent that could haunt future cases—imagine electoral disputes or human rights probes hinging on a poorly worded headline. And let’s not forget the House and Senate, now on notice that their official acts can be rewritten by a justice with a Wi-Fi connection and a penchant for ABS-CBN.

So, What’s Next? A Snarky Band-Aid and a Desperate Plea for Justice

Perhaps the Court should subscribe to the House’s YouTube channel for real-time updates—clearly, they’re more reliable than the ponente’s research team. Or maybe they could hire a fact-checker who’s heard of Rule 129. But in all seriousness, the only remedy for a ruling this catastrophically flawed is for the Court to grant 1Sambayan’s Motion for Reconsideration under Rule 37, vacate its own opinion, and issue a public apology for an unforgivable dereliction of duty. The House should step up, publishing time-stamped journals and transcripts to prevent future judicial fan fiction. And civil society? Keep screaming, because silence only emboldens this kind of incompetence.

In the end, this ruling isn’t just a mistake—it’s a betrayal of the Constitution, the rule of law, and every Filipino who still believes in accountability. The Supreme Court didn’t just drop the ball; it kicked it into the next province and called it a touchdown. Shame on them.