In the ruthless, high-stakes arena of Philippine politics, there is a saying that you must be sure of your footing before you try to knock someone else down. It appears to be a lesson the new Ombudsman, Jesus Crispin “Boying” Remulla, is learning in the most public and humiliating way possible. In what was meant to be a demonstration of power, a new sheriff cleaning up the town, Remulla’s first major offensive has backfired spectacularly, revealing an administration that critics are now branding as dangerously incompetent, vindictive, and reliant on “chismis” (gossip) rather than law.

The saga began as a political bombshell. Remulla, newly minted in his role as the nation’s top graft-buster, announced in a public press conference that he was preparing a letter. This wasn’t just any letter; it was a formal directive to Senate President Tito Sotto, demanding that the chamber finally execute a 2016 dismissal order against a sitting senator, Joel Villanueva. The case was a ghost of scandals past: a 10-million-peso pork barrel scam from 2008, back when Villanueva was a party-list representative. The order, signed by former Ombudsman Conchita Carpio Morales, found Villanueva guilty of grave misconduct and serious dishonesty. For Remulla, this was a clear-cut, headline-grabbing move to assert his authority.

But the hunter, in this case, had failed to check if the deer was already gone.

The “quick karma” that followed was almost immediate and brutally effective. Senator Joel Villanueva, finding himself in the crosshairs, didn’t just issue a denial. He produced the receipts. In a devastating counter-move, Villanueva publicly released a stack of documents that completely invalidated Remulla’s entire premise. He presented a copy of a 2019 decision from another former Ombudsman, Samuel Martires, which had already granted Villanueva’s motion for reconsideration and dismissed the administrative case entirely due to a “lack of probable cause.”

And he didn’t stop there. Villanueva also produced an official clearance from the Office of the Ombudsman, dated September 9, 2025, confirming he had no pending criminal or administrative cases. To add insult to injury, he provided a certification from the Sandiganbayan, the country’s anti-graft court, stating he was not an accused party. In short, Remulla had tried to execute a man who had already been proven innocent by the very office Remulla now leads. The case was not just old; it was dead and buried.

This is where the story shifts from a simple mistake to a full-blown political catastrophe. Cornered, humiliated, and exposed, Remulla was forced to “back out” (umatras) of his plan to write the letter. But instead of admitting a massive oversight, Remulla doubled down, holding another press conference where he attempted to shift the blame. He claimed he was “surprised” by the 2019 ruling, labeling it a “secret decision” by his predecessor, Martires, that was never publicized. “It’s a surprise secret decision,” Remulla told the media, “It only came out when I said the Ombudsman would do something about it.”

The excuse, meant to save face, has only made him a target of ridicule. Critics and vloggers were quick to mock him. Is the new Ombudsman “Mr. Announcement”? Does he believe every single decision made by his office requires a press conference to be valid? Is he a “vlogger,” or a public servant? The backlash was severe, with commentators pointing out the most basic fact of his job: the Ombudsman’s office, like all legal bodies, maintains a Case Management System, or “CCMS.” The Martires decision was not “secret”; it was, by all accounts, logged into the official system. All Remulla, or his staff, had to do was their basic homework.

The vlogger behind “Pinas News Insider,” who broke down the scandal, was merciless. “You are stupid for putting Boying there,” he said, addressing President Bongbong Marcos directly. “The Ombudsman relies on gossip… This is a huge embarrassment.”

This catastrophic error has ripped the mask off what critics are calling the true, partisan agenda of the new administration. This was not just an innocent mistake; it was, as Villanueva himself called it, “harassment” and “fake news.” The vlogger’s analysis is that Remulla was “weaponized” by the president, appointed “obviously not to protect the people… but to be a weapon for Bongbong Marcos to fight all political rivals.”

This theory is bolstered by Remulla’s own alleged actions. The vlogger claims that on Remulla’s very first day in office, his first target was not a corrupt official, but Vice President Sarah Duterte, immediately attacking her over confidential funds. The pattern, critics allege, is clear: anyone “Duterte-tagged” is a target. Remulla’s move on Villanueva, another senator not seen as explicitly aligned with the current administration, was simply the next step in this political purge. The problem is, he failed.

The vlogger’s sharpest critique is reserved for Remulla’s character. “This is what’s very dangerous,” the vlogger states, “A person in power that will not accept mistakes… he will never admit his mistakes. What’s worse is he will blame others for his shortcomings.” By blaming Martires and the “secrecy” of a decision that was, in fact, on the record, Remulla has shown that he is not an independent, judicious ombudsman, but a politician first. “He is very concerned on his image… He is a politician,” the vlogger notes, “A politician’s family, they have a name to protect for the 2028 election.”

The entire affair has become a “schoolboy error” (“school bukol”) for the new government, exposing the administration as, in the vlogger’s words, “having a floating brain” (“lutang ang utak”). Remulla, the man sent to send a message of fear to political rivals, instead sent a message of his own stunning incompetence. He tried to start a war by digging up a body, only to find the grave was empty. The political hunter, in his haste, became the hunted, and the entire nation is now watching him try to explain how he failed to check the most basic of facts before launching a public execution.