Thirteen votes cannot make power permanent

Some of the councilors who supported restricting Vice Mayor Julie Grace “Love-Love” Baronda’s legislative participation are my friends.

That makes this painful to write. Friendship, however, should make honesty possible, especially when honesty becomes uncomfortable.

I know their intelligence, warmth, and capacity for public service. That is why I find myself asking what happened. How did we reach a point where an overwhelming majority would support restrictions that an opposition vice mayor experiences as an attempt to silence her?

To my friends in the council: I hope the current political climate will not consume you fully. I hope there remains enough distance between your political loyalties and your convictions for you to examine this decision honestly.

On October 21, the Iloilo City Council reportedly voted 13-1 to incorporate DILG Legal Opinion No. 95, series of 2025, into its internal rules, restricting Baronda’s participation in floor deliberations and regular legislative committees. Councilor Sheen Marie Mabilog cast the lone opposing vote.

Thirteen votes settled the motion. They did not settle the questions of fairness, consistency, and public interest.

I stand with the vice mayor in demanding convincing answers.

Baronda must respect the legal boundaries of her office. The majority, in turn, must explain those boundaries accurately and demonstrate that its decisions serve the institution beyond the interests of its present political alliances.

A statement attributed to Iloilo Provincial Board Member Atty. Rolex Suplico deserves attention here.

In Bombo Radyo Iloilo’s October 22 post, Suplico, identified as chairman of the Provincial Board’s Committee on Rules, said: “Pwede sundon, pwede indi…” He explained that following the DILG opinion was not mandatory for their Sangguniang Panlalawigan.

His statement concerns the Provincial Board. It does not resolve the legality of Iloilo City’s rules. But it challenges the suggestion that every sanggunian must automatically adopt the opinion.

DILG-6 legal officer Atty. Junine Wednesday Java had likewise explained that departmental legal opinions are advisory and do not themselves carry the force of law. She said the department would respect sanggunians that retained existing practices, as well as those that amended their rules following the opinion.

The council therefore owes the public precision.

Which restrictions does the statute expressly require? Which arise from binding judicial interpretation? Which reflect the department’s reading of those authorities? Where does the council retain discretion?

Citizens deserve to understand whether their representatives were compelled to act or exercised a choice.

The Supreme Court’s ruling in Javier v. Cadiao must also be treated seriously. It addressed quorum and majority-vote calculations and discussed the presiding officer’s impartiality and limited participation. Its reasoning deserves careful examination when assessing the restrictions imposed on Baronda.

Recognizing that legal foundation makes a clear explanation more necessary. The majority should show how the authorities support each restriction. Citizens should be able to follow the reasoning and question its application.

There is also a question of consistency.

Reports indicate that Baronda temporarily relinquished the chair to participate in floor deliberations, and that a similar practice occurred during former Vice Mayor Jeffrey Ganzon’s tenure. Past practice cannot legalize an unlawful act. Changing that practice nevertheless requires an explanation that can withstand scrutiny, particularly when the change constrains an opposition official.

Would the same interpretation be pursued with equal determination if the vice mayor belonged to the majority’s political camp?

That question tests institutional credibility. Rules earn respect when their application remains consistent after the names and alliances change.

Baronda’s own account places the present controversy within a broader pattern she says she has experienced.

In the interview quoted in the screenshot provided, she alleged pressure over her office space, a reduction of approximately 60% to 70% in the budget previously available to vice mayors, and an attempt to eliminate funding for her personnel.

These remain her allegations. They deserve examination against official records and a substantive response from the officials concerned. The public should be able to see the relevant appropriations, staffing provisions, and decisions concerning office space.

“Today we saw nga pulitika ang nangibabaw,” Baronda said.

Today, we saw politics prevail.

Her warning reaches beyond her own position. What happens to an institution when officials outside the ruling camp come to believe that their ability to function depends on political accommodation?

The answer cannot be another exchange of accusations. It must include records, reasons, and standards applied consistently to allies and opponents.

To my friends in the council, this is where my disappointment becomes personal.

I do not presume to know every consideration behind your votes. But are you satisfied that this decision meets that standard? Can you defend it with the same conviction when you imagine yourselves on the receiving end?

How low can you go in the pursuit of political advantage before you begin losing the qualities that made people trust you?

I ask because political loyalty can gradually narrow judgment. Decisions become easier to defend when everyone around the table agrees. Criticism becomes easier to dismiss when it comes from outside the camp. Eventually, protecting an alliance can begin to feel indistinguishable from protecting the institution.

Public service requires the discipline to question your own side.

You may be the supermajority today. You will not occupy those positions forever.

Alliances fracture. Public sentiment changes. Elections rearrange seats that once appeared secure. The people who now seek your consideration may one day hold the authority to decide whether you receive any.

Build an institution you can trust when you no longer control it.

One day, you may need a fair hearing from political opponents. You may need an impartial application of a disputed rule. You may discover how much it matters to have someone in the room willing to question the majority.

The standards you defend today will be available for others to invoke tomorrow.

Meanwhile, the council can demonstrate good faith through what happens next.

If regular councilors must sponsor measures associated with the vice mayor’s office, let that route function. Let willing members carry the proposals. Let committees examine them promptly and explain their findings. Let residents understand why a measure advances, requires revision, or fails.

A procedural objection should lead to a workable path forward. Potentially useful proposals deserve judgment on their merits.

Supporting Baronda does not require believing she is always right. It requires insisting that her concerns receive serious consideration, that disputed interpretations remain open to proper challenge, and that political disagreement does not determine the attention public proposals receive.

The majority possesses ample votes to reject measures it considers unsound. It should possess equal confidence in explaining why.

To my friends: I hope you remember the people you intended to serve before political divisions hardened around you. I hope you retain the courage to reconsider, even when reconsideration disappoints your allies.

Your authority is temporary. Your responsibility is present.

Thirteen votes can carry a resolution. They cannot make power permanent, place judgment beyond scrutiny, or guarantee the public’s respect.

Use your majority in a way you can defend when you are finally part of the minority.