In the Philippine justice landscape, a single word can shake the very foundations of accountability. That word came recently when Ombudsman Jesus Crispin “Boying” Remulla answered a senator’s question with a simple “yes”—to the idea that laws sometimes must be bent to satisfy the people. The reaction was swift and severe: public outcry, debate over the sanctity of law, and renewed scrutiny of government integrity.


During a Senate inquiry on flood control anomalies, Senator Erwin Tulfo instructed: “The people are higher than the law.” When Remulla affirmed that statement, it ignited outrage among rights advocates and legal experts alike. Acting Justice Secretary Fredderick Vida swiftly denounced the notion as “very wrong,” reminding that laws exist precisely so they are not ignored or twisted. The spectacle exposed uncomfortable truths about how public institutions perceive their role.


The flurry of headlines didn’t stop there. Remulla publicly announced his intention to enforce a 2016 dismissal order against Joel Villanueva, citing the old ruling issued by former Ombudsman Conchita Carpio‑Morales for alleged misuse of pork barrel funds. Remulla threatened to escalate the case to the Supreme Court if the Senate didn’t cooperate. Minutes later, it emerged the order had already been reversed in 2019 by former Ombudsman Samuel Martires. Villanueva and Martires both denied any secretive acts—but the embarrassment for the Ombudsman’s office was unmistakable. The image of a top official acting without full briefing widened the trust deficit.


Meanwhile, the newly established Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI) promised live-streamed hearings on public infrastructure projects but backtracked swiftly. The explanation? They needed to draft witness-protection rules and claim Commissioner unavailability next week due to holidays. Critics called the delay an “excuse” and labeled ICI a possible smokescreen for stalled inquiries. The reversal raised doubts on institutional sincerity—especially as asset-freezing orders loomed for the Eric Yap and Edvic Yap brothers, tagged as “persons of interest” in flood–control anomalies by Remulla’s own office.


At its core, the story speaks to a deeper crisis: can Filipinos trust a legal system where language like “bend the law” is uttered by the highest anti-graft official? The consequences go beyond a single slip. When an Ombudsman appears to prioritize public sentiment over legal standards, the line between justice and popularity blurs.

Remulla’s appointment was meant to inject fresh energy into investigations of corrupt infrastructure contracts and pro­jects, especially flood control. Yet his remarks quickly shifted the conversation toward institutional weakness rather than graft busting. The Villanueva fiasco only compounded the image of a reform drive stumbling under its own weight.

For the general public, the optics cut deep:

When a top official admits laws can be bent, it raises questions about rule-of-law and equal treatment.

When a high-profile case is mishandled by the watchdog itself, trust in governance falls.

When a body tasked with transparency reverses its promise, cynicism grows.

For the institution of the Ombudsman, the moment demands a comeback. It’s not enough to declare investigations—it must act with clarity, competence, and consistency. The institution is meant to probe, punish and deter wrongdoing—not to host symbolic threats or create headlines without follow-through.

What happens next will matter greatly. Will Remulla’s office act decisively—especially in the cases of the Yap brothers—or will signals of insecurity and misinterpretation dominate? Can the ICI deliver genuine transparency instead of procedural delays? Will the Senate hold its ground in demanding clear accountability?

Filipinos will be watching. Not just for audits, hearings or court filings—but for signs that law, not popularity, is the real compass of governance.

In the end, bending the law to please the people may sound tempting in the moment—but it risks pleasing no one in the long run. And for institutions whose legitimacy depends on public trust, that may be the greatest failure of all.