Politics and pursuit of justice should never collide

The recent move by the Ombudsman to require Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla and four other high-ranking officials to answer a complaint over the controversial March 11 arrest of former President Rodrigo Duterte is a political firestorm dressed in legal clothing.

Filed by the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations chaired by Senator Imee Marcos, the complaint reeks of political posturing rather than genuine concern for justice or accountability.

The arrest and transfer of Duterte to the custody of the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague—a historic moment by any measure—was bound to be contentious.

But the aftermath, marked by internal rifts, calculated accusations, and conveniently timed investigations, raises more questions about the real motives at play. That the Ombudsman responded to the Senate’s recommendation is part of due process. But the context surrounding this complaint reveals a deeper and far more troubling narrative.

At the heart of this drama is not simply the legality of Duterte’s arrest, but the fissure within the ruling political alliance. The silent feud between President Bongbong Marcos and his sister, Senator Imee Marcos, has now spilled into full public view.

Her independent candidacy and her vocal criticism of the administration signal a dramatic departure from the once-triumphant “Uniteam” that carried Marcos and Duterte to victory. The move to file a complaint against key administration figures—including the Justice Secretary and the Chief of Police—has been widely interpreted as both a political statement and a strategic maneuver ahead of the upcoming elections.

What complicates matters further is President Marcos’ public dissociation from his sister’s actions. This not only weakens the credibility of the Senate complaint but also suggests a lack of consensus—even within the highest levels of government—on how to navigate Duterte’s ICC case.

Meanwhile, other senators have kept their distance, likely wary of alienating themselves from Malacañang or damaging their own political capital.

The danger here is twofold. First, it undermines the legitimacy of real legal processes. If every high-profile arrest becomes fodder for partisan retaliation, then the justice system risks becoming a tool of political vendetta rather than a protector of law and order. Second, it exposes a troubling culture in Philippine politics where alliances are fleeting and accountability is conditional.

Duterte’s arrest, whatever one’s opinion on its merits, should be treated as a legal matter—subject to international obligations and domestic legal safeguards—not as a political spectacle. Turning it into a proxy war between factions only discredits the institutions involved and erodes public trust.

The Ombudsman must proceed with independence and integrity, focusing solely on facts and legal merits—not on pressure from political blocs. Filipinos deserve a justice system that is shielded from political interference, where power plays do not dictate prosecutions, and where no one—whether former presidents or sitting officials—is above the law.