The gavel has fallen

That moment in every courtroom drama where the judge bangs the gavel, you hear a sharp crack. Behind the sound effect is a symbolism. It means the argument is over. Opinions are silenced. A decision, rooted in law, has been made.

Now, if someone just ignored it. Stood up, waved a hand, and said, “I don’t like that ruling, so I won’t follow it.” The courtroom would erupt. The very idea of justice — predictable, impartial, binding — would collapse into chaos.

That gavel is the Supreme Court. And right now, in full view of the nation, we’re watching the Senate President, Tito Sotto, pretend he can’t hear it.

In its January 29, 2026 ruling, the Philippine Supreme Court upheld its prior decision, declaring the 2025 impeachment complaint against Vice President Sara Duterte unconstitutional for violating the one-year bar. The Court’s final and immediately executory decision dismissed the House’s appeal for reconsideration.

More than everyday political squabbling, the problem here is deeper, more fundamental, and institutional. Our democracy is a carefully balanced machine with three coequal branches, each designed to check the others.

The Supreme Court’s role is not to be a political player, but the referee. Its power lies not in armies or budgets, but in one thing — the finality of its interpretations of our Constitution. When that finality is mocked by another branch, the machine grinds to a halt.

Here’s a core part of this breakdown — Tito Sotto isn’t a lawyer. To be fair, you don’t need a law degree to lead the Senate. Wisdom and statesmanship come from many places. Since 1935, two others without one have held the gavel: Blas Ople and Manny Villar. They had their battles, their partisan fights, but they understood the foundational, non-negotiable rule: the law is the ultimate boss. They knew where the bright red lines of constitutional boundary were drawn, and they knew not to cross them.

Tito Sotto came from showbiz — a world of ratings, punchlines, and audience applause. A noontime host and comedian turned politician, sometimes, it seems he never truly left that stage. He has repeatedly treated Supreme Court rulings not as the final word, but as optional commentary — mere script suggestions he’s free to debate, dismiss, or even joke about on national television.

It’s not even a laudable independence — just pure recklessness. The Senate President isn’t a talk show host trading barbs for buzz. He presides over one of the most powerful institutions in the land, an institution whose very legitimacy is duty-bound to uphold the Constitution, not systematically undermine it whenever a ruling proves inconvenient to his or his allies’ position.

So, a friendly reminder, Tito Sen: The Supreme Court doesn’t give advice. It decides. Its rulings are not suggestions open for a follow-up segment. They are final. They are binding. They are the law of the land. Period.

In this specific case, they’ve spoken loudly, clearly, and unanimously. A final and executory judgment has been issued, affirming that the articles of impeachment against Vice President Inday Sara Duterte were unconstitutional.

This is the legal equivalent of a game’s final buzzer. Game over. No more appeals. No do-overs. No clever political tricks or legislative sleight-of-hand. The law has closed the book.

What Sotto is engaging in now is not a healthy debate. It’s open defiance. When the highest court makes a final ruling, every single branch of government — the Executive, the House, and yes, especially the Senate and its President — must obey.

Not a matter of political preference, but the basic rulebook of our constitutional democracy. To do otherwise is stubbornness, and an act that erodes the very foundation that holds our republic together.

His is an unprincipled performance. True leadership does not please the crowd. It should be a sober exercise of restraint — knowing that power, no matter how great, must ultimately bow to the law.

Every time one dismisses a final ruling, it sends a corrosive message to every Filipino that justice is flexible, that the Constitution bends to powerful personalities, and that one branch of government can place itself above the Supreme Court.

It is not even a simple political disagreement. Filipinos are now staring at a direct and deliberate collision with constitutional order itself.

History doesn’t remember those who ignored the gavel. All of us, every citizen who believes in this fragile experiment called democracy, are watching and taking note.