IN WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE’S “Julius Caesar,” as the namesake Roman dictator was about to be assassinated, he recognized his friend and protégé Marcus Junius Brutus as one of his assassins. Prior to his demise, Caesar was said to have asked, “Et tu, Brutus?” which is roughly translated as “You too, Brutus?”

Last November 28, 2023, the San Beda University (SBU) College of Law (COL) held an academic convocation at the Plenary Hall of the Philippine International Convention Center (PICC) in order to confer its pre-2018 graduates, who all hold Bachelor of Laws (LL.B) degrees, with an updated Juris Doctor (J.D.) degree pursuant to the Legal Education Board’s (LEB) Memorandum Order No. 19, Series of 2018.

Many of those who took part in the ceremony were some of the most distinguished alumni of the University, some of whom were former and current government officials, as well as luminaries in the academe and titans of industry.

But among the crop of graduates and legal practitioners who came to claim their updated degrees at the PICC, one particular alumnus stood out—a man whose presence loomed over the proceedings: former President Rodrigo Duterte.

Despite having been a mere recipient of the degree, and not having delivered any special remarks at the ceremony, Duterte nevertheless still occupied a place of prominence, sitting alongside the University’s administrators at center stage, flanked by his ever-loyal companion and trusted aide, Sen. Bong Go, and former Executive Secretary Salvador Medialdea, himself a graduate of the COL.

As he was introduced, and even during the actual conferment of his own degree, cheers and a raucous round of applause welcomed the former president, who presided over a bloody drug war that has killed over 6,200 victims, according to official government figures cited in a 2023 report by Al Jazeera. For a moment, Duterte seemed to revel in the adoration coming from his peers.

But despite this warm embrace, such a reception was deeply disturbing. It was profoundly disappointing to witness certain sectors of the Bedan community continue embracing a man whose legacy has been marred by a deadly and un-Christian war on drugs. It was a war that has left countless lives shattered and many poor families torn apart. The very principles that we are taught to uphold in this University—fides, scientia, et virtus—all are undeniably incompatible with such a brutal campaign that defied the very essence of our Christian and Benedictine values.

Moreover, our dismay deepens further as we reflect on the University’s conspicuous silence regarding the persecution of another one of our very own—former Senator Leila de Lima. Her unjust detention, based on what is now appearing to be trumped-up charges regarding her supposed involvement in the drug trade, is a chilling narrative on the abuse of power and suppression of dissent that characterized the Duterte years. Yet, despite the glaring injustice, our University and her community remains muted and failed to rally behind a fellow Bedan when she needed us most.

Now that she has been freed from detention, after having been granted bail by Judge Gener Gito—who himself was under the tutelage of Bedan educators during most of his law school days—and unburdened by the dismissal of two of the three drug-related raps against her, Sen. de Lima has instead chosen to teach at the Tañada-Diokno School of Law of the De La Salle University (DLSU), her other Alma Mater, rather than to return to the fold of the COL, where she had also taught during the late 1980s and then again in 2006-2007.

It is hard to feel unaffected by this choice of hers, after having spent years in the wilderness alone, shrugged off by the very institution in which she served as Editor-in-Chief for its Law Journal and Associate Editor for its official student publication, The Barrister.

As members of a community that cherishes ethical leadership and stands against injustice, we cannot continue to remain silent. How can we reconcile the teachings of St. Benedict with the bloodshed and suffering caused by the drug war and the irreparable damage the previous administration has done to dissent in this country?

Is this the legacy we wish to uphold? A legacy of silence in the face of oppression and continued association with leaders whose actions contradict the values we hold dear? If we continue down this path, then we are essentially betraying the very core of our identity as Bedans in prayer, work, and in peace.

And so, for all that has been said and done, we just cannot help but ask, “Et tu, San Beda?”