(Last of 2 parts)
“The charges against Quiboloy are severe, and the need to apprehend him is a matter of both legal obligation and public safety”
IN OUR previous column we wrote about Sara Duterte’s sudden advocacy for the rights of KOJC members might be seen as an opportunistic, a calculated move, to solidify her base in Mindanao and undermine President Marcos’ authority.
On the other hand, the Philippine National Police has robustly defended the raid, citing the size and complexity of the KOJC compound and the resistance encountered from Quiboloy’s followers as justifications for the scale of the operation.
The use of ground-penetrating radar, typically reserved for search and rescue operations, indicates the seriousness with which the authorities pursued Quiboloy.
Legally, the PNP’s actions are anchored in their mandate to enforce court-issued warrants, particularly in cases involving serious offenses like sex trafficking and child abuse.
The charges against Quiboloy are severe, and the need to apprehend him is a matter of both legal obligation and public safety.
The police operation’s intensity can be justified by the potential risks posed by Quiboloy’s supporters, who have a history of fiercely defending their leader.
However, the transformation of the KOJC compound into what Quiboloy’s lawyer describes as a “garrison” raises legal concerns.
The Rules of Criminal Procedure do not explicitly allow for such actions, and turning a religious property into a de facto military zone could be seen as an infringement on religious freedom and property rights.
The legal battle over this interpretation is likely to become a focal point shortly.
The power play
In this complex scenario, both sides present compelling arguments, but the scales seem to tip slightly in favor of the PNP and the Marcos administration.
The legal basis for the raid, backed by serious criminal charges and the need to enforce judicial orders, provides a strong justification for the operation.
Furthermore, the PNP’s ability to maintain a controlled and sustained presence at the compound suggests a well-planned and legally sound strategy, even if its execution has been criticized.
Conversely, Sara Duterte’s criticisms, while powerful, may be seen as politically motivated, aimed at rallying her base and protecting her family’s legacy rather than addressing the legal nuances of the raid.
Her apology to KOJC members and her rebuke of the Marcos administration, although resonating with her supporters, might not gain the same traction outside her political sphere.
For the Marcos administration and the PNP, transparency is crucial.
Detailed reports on the raid’s conduct, including an independent investigation into the use of force and the circumstances surrounding the casualties, would help to quell public unrest and reinforce the legitimacy of the operation.
Engaging in dialogue with religious leaders and human rights organizations could also mitigate the negative fallout.
For Sara Duterte and her allies, a more measured approach may be advisable.
While defending the rights of individuals and criticizing potential overreach is important, aligning these arguments with broader legal principles rather than purely political rhetoric could strengthen their position.
Seeking legal recourse through the courts, perhaps challenging the Constitutionality of the raid’s execution, would add weight to their criticisms.
In the end, the raid on the KOJC compound is a microcosm of the larger struggle for power and influence.
As the Marcos administration and the Duterte camp continue their tug-of-war, the implications of this raid will reverberate far beyond Davao, potentially shaping the country’s political landscape for years.
The question remains: will this be remembered as a necessary enforcement of the law, or as a pivotal moment of overreach that further polarized an already divided nation?
Only time will tell.
