In open impeachment court, Senator-Judge Raffy Tulfo spoke as though suspicion had already hardened into guilt. His treatment of OVP Assistant Chief of Staff Lemuel Ortonio was disturbing and unbecoming of an impartial judge. A trial must be governed by evidence and fairness, not anger, humiliation, or applause-ready pronouncements.
Tulfo questioned Ortonio about his handling of documents connected with the Office of the Vice President’s confidential funds. He had every right—and indeed the duty—to ask difficult questions. But saying that Ortonio appeared to be “playing the fool,” attacking the intelligence he had supposedly shown in school, and telling him that his answers were an embarrassment crossed a serious line. Presiding Officer Francis Escudero eventually ordered the offending phrase replaced in the record with “feigning ignorance.” That intervention itself showed that courtroom language cannot be treated like the verbal combat often heard on public-service television. Reports by GMA News and the Philippine Daily Inquirer documented the exchange.
When Ortonio said that he took offense, Tulfo invoked the Filipino people, saying they were more offended by the alleged waste of public money. Please do not speak for all of us, Senator. The people are not a courtroom prop that can be lifted whenever a sharp line needs greater weight. I am more offended when an elected official borrows my voice to justify degrading a witness whose testimony and accountability are still being examined.
I understand the anger surrounding public funds. Every peso must be accounted for, and no public office—not even the OVP—deserves exemption from scrutiny. But Tulfo’s statement that the money was being squandered sounded dangerously close to a conclusion, even as the proceedings were still receiving evidence and the Commission on Audit matter cited by Ortonio remained subject to further action. The constitutional presumption of innocence may operate differently in an impeachment proceeding than in an ordinary criminal prosecution, but its moral command remains essential: no one should be condemned before the evidence has been fully heard and fairly weighed.
What’s more disgusting is the public display of selective fury. Filipinos have watched controversies over costly but defective or unfinished flood-control projects, questionable contracts, smuggling, and other alleged abuses of public money. These matters also deserve questioning delivered with the same heat, persistence, and commanding television voice. If indignation burns like a searchlight only when pointed at a political target, people will naturally wonder whether justice is being pursued or a political stage is merely being lit.
Tulfo built his public identity around helping people who believed that institutions had ignored them. That was why many voters trusted him: his voice seemed available to the powerless when doors were closed, and official desks were indifferent. But the Senate is not an extension of a complaint-and-confrontation television program. A senator-judge holds far greater power than a television host, and greater power requires greater restraint. The louder the gavel, the more careful the hand that holds it must be.
An impeachment is not a popularity contest, a morality play, or an opportunity to manufacture memorable clips. It is a constitutional trial with consequences for the accused, the institution, and the country. Senator-judges may test evasive answers, expose contradictions, and demand records, but they must not ridicule witnesses or display a settled conclusion before the defense has completed its case. Otherwise, the trial becomes a procession toward a verdict already written backstage, with evidence reduced to decoration along the route.
I still want every questioned peso investigated, and every responsible person held accountable once the facts establish responsibility. But I also want Senator Tulfo to remember why many Filipinos entrusted him with power: not to speak over them, but to defend their right to fair government. He can serve that trust best by lowering the temperature, asking precise questions, following the evidence wherever it leads, and reserving judgment until the trial is complete. Justice does not become stronger when shouted; it becomes credible when even those we dislike receive a fair hearing.
