A cherished event, August 11, 2002

TODAY is the birth anniversary of two persons close to my heart. The first is my wife Sally, who is turning 71. The other is my grandson Claudio, who is now a teenager. May I tell you about them?

Sally was not yet 20 when I married her in 1952. She was then working at the US Veterans Administration, but I asked her to resign when she conceived a honeymoon baby. That was Cesar, our first-born, who was delivered by caesarean section. He was followed (at almost yearly intervals) by his four brothers, namely, Claro, Celso, Carlo, and Isagani Jr. I had to name our bunso after me because I had run out of C names.

As if our brood were not enough already, Sally yearned to have a daughter, probably because she was outnumbered 6 to 1. (Joke only, she really wanted a baby girl to coddle.) She even walked on her knees in prayer until God granted her wish after seven years. I for my part was always available during all that time, and with undiminished energy.

Sally took care of all our children by herself; none of them had a yaya. She was particularly pleased with Candy, whom she dressed in pretty clothes and took with her to meet me at the Expo 70 in Tokyo when she was only three. None of the boys protested the favoritism because she was also their favorite and only sister.

My wife brought our children hot lunches in school until they reached college. She bought second-hand textbooks for them at Recto at considerable savings although with much patience and legwork too. She was a strict tutor and gave a lot of verbal (and sometimes physical) sparking when they failed to answer soon enough the flash arithmetic cards she flashed very fast. (The children were amazed at her skill until they discovered that she could read the answers on the reverse side of the cards.)

At one time, she sent Claro on an errand to the World Health Organization, and the boy said he did not know where it was. Sally flared and said, “You don’t know the World Health Organization?” she scolded angrily.”The HWO?” When Claro smiled tentatively, the two dissolved in laughter and the feared punishment was averted.

Despite her strictness when it came to their lessons, she was also her sons’ protector and intercessor. It was only after they had graduated that I learned about their misdemeanors and the disciplinary letters from UP that she intercepted and concealed from me. She also pleaded on their behalf and mitigated the sentences I would impose as paterfamilias. When each of them married later, she became the sumbungan of their respective spouses, whom she consistently sustained.

But for all the care she gave her children, I was to her the real baby of the family. During all these years, she has waited until I arrived late at night from my classes so we could eat supper together. She has always lined up for me at buffet meals, paring prawns and shrimps and naghihimay ng alimango. She gives me the drumstick and chooses only the wings. She quickly switches off the bakya shows to let me watch The Practice. She always looks at the price before ordering in a restaurant. She defers to what I want and smells especially nice at night. And for all her pagbibigay, she is still lovely at 71.

Last May 3, our children gave us the best-ever golden wedding anniversary present. They asked us to celebrate the event at a quiet dinner among ourselves only but we had to dress formally for a family picture. When we gathered at the assigned venue, I remarked that it was rather small, and Candy left to get a bigger site, to which she asked us to transfer. When Sally and I entered, we were welcomed with tremendous applause from some 200 guests who had connived with our children to surprise us.

Sally had to sit down as she shed tears of silent joy. The children had even prepared a program that, I hope, everyone appreciated. The food was perfect, and the quartet provided excellent and quiet chamber music. In my impromptu speech, I said I did not realize until then that I had a family of deceivers, as so also were our friends who had joined in the conspiracy. The audience especially liked it when I said that I loved my wife Sally more now than when I married her 50 years ago.

So what about Claudio? He is 13 today and a very handsome boy the girls will soon be pursuing. He seems to be more interested now in science and information technology, but wait until he is 14. He is an intelligent lad who writes well and has an artistic spirit that made him say, when he was only 4 years old, that “the sun is smiling” and, later in the day, that “the clouds are burning.” He will be using that kind of line with the girls when he is 15.

At his present age, Claudio faces a lifetime of interesting experiences that, at my venerable age, I will not be there to observe and write about. But I can still wish him now a bright and happy future where he will use his best talents to make something of himself in the service of God and country. Most of all, I pray for him a beautiful wife like his Mom, Melanie, and, of course, his Grandma and my beloved wife, the exquisite and ever-ready Sally.

Happy birthday to my Best Friend and our grandson Claudio!

Still on the Comelec scandal, August 10, 2002

A DEAR friend  faxed me a letter concurring with my recent article on the brazen extravagance of the Commission on Elections in buying 7 luxury cars for the total cost of P8.5 million in addition to the 2 other official cars already enjoyed by each of its members. Chair Benjamin Abalos had not yet assumed office when the purchase was ordered by the six other commissioners, but he tacitly accepted it, including the assignment of one of the new cars to him. He piously declared, like Pontius Pilate washing his hands, that none of them should have more than three official cars, thereby further exposing the extent of their incredible abuse.

Bartolome C. Fernandez Jr., who sent me the letter, has been for years a professor in the UP college of law and other law schools where he has been teaching Political Law, including the Law of Public Officers. He is an expert on the Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act. He has supplemented theory with actual practice, first as for many years Chief Legal Counsel of the Commission on Audit and later as a member of that constitutional body itself from 1986 to 1992 (during which period, he says, he used only one official car). Like many other concerned citizens, he is affronted by the Comelec scandal, but not only on moral but also legal grounds.

“Such scandalous spending of the people’s money,” he says, “was preventable in audit. The Commission could have stopped it in pre-audit pursuant to its constitutional mandate to prevent and disallow “irregular, unnecessary, excessive, extravagant, or unconscionable expenditures of government funds” which are violative of pertinent accounting and auditing rules promulgated by it in accordance with which it conducts the audit of government expenditures.”

Fernandez calls the purchase of the 7 brand-new luxury cars at the average price of P1.2 million not only “extravagant” but also “unconscionable.” As the commissioners are already allowed 2 cars each, the purchase of a third one was also “unnecessary.” Adding to the initial cost of their acquisition the maintenance of these expensive vehicles, including, as Fernandez notes, the employment of additional drivers for each of them, the ordinary taxpayer can only cringe at the unbelievable callousness of the whole transaction.

The former member of the COA submits that it “should have asserted its active audit power as envisioned in the Constitution by putting a stop to the (purchase) before it could even happen.”

“The whole trouble,” he says, “is that the COA is utilizing the post-audit technique whereby it only reviews a completed transaction after payment has been effected.” It may consider it illegal but cannot annul or revoke it because it is already an accomplished fact. “Any disallowance the COA might make in its post-audit report would seemingly be a misnomer because there is in a real sense nothing to disallow, the audited transaction being already a fait accompli.”

The Comelec anomaly could have been prevented in the first place if it had been pre-audited by the COA, that is, before the payment was effected and the contract was consummated. But, as Commissioner Fernandez says, it is now too late to correct the irregularity because “there was already a diminution in the funds of the agency. In auditing jargon, there was already a ‘disturbance’ of its fiscal posture.”

“Of course,” he adds, “the COA can impose or initiate the necessary sanctions on the officials determined to be liable” for the prohibited transaction. “But in my experience at COA, that is easier said than done.” Fernandez must be thinking of many other financial abuses that, although preventable, were committed nonetheless and have remained unpunished by the COA despite the expanded powers vested in it by the present Constitution.

The Commission on Audit is the watchdog of the financial operations of the government. This is an important constitutional role as the stability of our Republic depends on the integrity of its fiscal policies and operations. So many regimes have floundered and collapsed because of their improvident and irregular management of public funds and properties. This can be avoided in this country with a vigilant and aggressive Commission on Audit.

I thank my friend Bart for sharing his expertise and experience with the public and giving it a fuller understanding of the legal and practical considerations involved in the unspeakable scandal where P8.5 million of the people’s money was squandered to gratify the comfort and convenience of the members of the Commission on Elections. But I do not share his pessimism that the matter is a “done deal,” so to speak, and is beyond correction and castigation by the appropriate authorities.

Are we really that helpless? Are similar excesses being committed by other government officials without compunction, accountability or contrition? Does immunity cover the wrong by its mere commission? God spare us from a new oligarchy saying with unfeeling prescience, as the people suffer from its misdeeds, “After us the deluge!”

An excess of politicians, August 4, 2002

I RECEIVED a letter from Rico Xeres who, like many concerned citizens, deplores the present condition of our country. He blames it mainly on our politicians.

He notes that in a recent SWS survey, 19 percent of our people want to migrate; but what was more shocking was the 31 percent of them belong to the A-B category, the elite in our country and also its ruling class. Even among the richest in that class, he perceives “a sense of hopelessness about the future of our country. Many of them are sending their children to live abroad.”

“We probably have the worst politicians in the whole of Asia,” he says, “at par with the worst politicians in darkest Africa. The difference is that we are a country with a high literacy rate while most African countries have 90 percent or more illiterates. Usually, countries with a high educational rate have pretty good politicians, but the Philippines is a distinct exception.”

Xeres notes that the Philippines has the highest number of provinces in the world. Indonesia, which has a land area five times bigger and a population 2-1/2 higher than ours, has only 26 provinces. Also with bigger land areas and higher populations, China has only 19 provinces and four territories and India has a little over 20 provinces and territories.

I share the reader’s anxiety. At the latest count, the Philippines has 79 provinces, each with its elective governor, vice governor, board members, besides its appointive officials. This does not include the cities and municipalities, each with its own elective and appointive officials, and the officials of the barangay and the Sangguniang Kabataan.

Every three years, we choose all elective officials except the President, the Vice President and 12 members of the Senate, at much expense of badly needed public funds for more pressing but ignored projects. The barangay elections are also held every three years but at different intervals and extra cost.

The Constitution provides that every city with a population of 250,000 shall constitute at least one district in the House of Representatives. Every province that under the Local Government Code must have the same minimum population is similarly entitled. As our population continues to grow, many highly urbanized cities will automatically become separate congressional districts, even as more districts are added with the splitting of provinces.

The creation of more and more political subdivisions will increase the cost of operating them, with most of their revenues eaten up by the salaries of their personnel. Social services like education and health care, infrastructure, economic development and other urgent community needs will be shunted to provide for the upkeep of the politicians.

Politics is clearly the biggest if also the most harmful industry in the Philippines. The sad part is that most of our politicians do practically nothing except collect their pay, if they are not in fact engaged in sinister activities through abuse of their official positions. No less contemptible, they remain in office by sharing their loot with the voters in the form of free funerals and plenty of liquor.

There seems to be the impression among our so-called leaders — and this includes the framers of the Constitution — that the strength of democracy is proportionate to the number of its politicians. That is a stupid idea; even modern wars are not won by numbers. The strength of democracy derives from the character and not the number of its leaders. One hundred honest and competent persons can run a country better — regardless of its size — than a thousand crooks.

The present Senate is 20 members too many. Its incompetence and immaturity cry for its immediate dissolution. The House of Representatives is no less execrable, hardly half of its more than 200 members deserving popular confidence. Many governors and mayors, along with their legislative officials, are no better. This could be one reason why their constituents are fleeing the provinces and congesting Metro Manila, which in fact is the worst of the lot.

Reduction of the number of our elective officials could go a long way in saving hundreds of millions of pesos that are now being dissipated as salaries and perquisites of favored politicians. The measure could also streamline the government by trimming the useless fat that is poisoning and debilitating the public service. Such an objective should be seriously considered in the proposed revision of the Constitution.

Xeres says “there is no reason why we cannot be one of the most progressive countries in Asia, for we are a very talented people… Our human resources are some of the best in the region. What is holding us back is the quality of our politicians, who are quite few compared to our 80 million population. Why should we allow them to keep our country poor and hopeless?”

Another reader, Consuelo D. Sison, who describes herself as a grandmother of 28 (not years but tots), is less despairing. Saying that many things can happen until the 2004 elections, “we should all pray that all our people remember that love is what makes the world go round. And if there is love, there will be peace. Let us the old ones give hope to our youth and help them keep their youthful faith and dreams in a  future without hate and strife.”

And also, I hope, with fewer politicians.

 

A brazen extravagance, August 3, 2002

I’M GOING to write about that latest scandal in the Commission on Elections lets it become, like most scandals, as dead as yesterday’s newspaper.

I refer to the shocking report published sometime ago that this disreputable constitutional body has further tarnished its name with the purchase of top-of-the-line vehicles for its members at a total expenditure of P8.5 million of the people’s money.

According to the INQUIRER’s editorial of July 24, 2002, that amount covered the cost of “a Nissan Cefiro Elite each for (Chair Benjamin) Abalos and Commissioner Florentino Tuason; four Chevrolet Ventures for Commissioners Rufino Javier, Resurreccion Borja, Mehol Sadain and Luzviminda Tancangco; and a Toyota Ace Super Grandia for Commissioner Ralph Lantion.”

The members approved the purchase before Abalos took over as their new chair, but he did nothing to reverse them. That laudable move would have established his leadership over them but he instead shared and benefited from their abuse. He did a Pontius Pilate, though, by piously prohibiting any member of the Commission from having more than three official vehicles. That further exposed the shameful fact that they already had two earlier vehicles each.

At a time when some teachers are complaining about the non-payment of their services during the last barangay elections, the extravagance of the Comelec commissioners is nothing short of brazen. Viewed against the acute poverty of millions of our people — many of whom are starving for lack of simple sustenance — that callousness is highly contemptible if  not also criminal. The Comelec obviously doesn’t care a hoot about what the public thinks of it.

What rankles is that although the members each have two “official” cars already, they still had to augment their extraordinary perquisite by buying eight more brand-new vehicles at an average cost of more than P1.1 million. Who will be using the two additional cars while the commissioner is comfortable ensconced in the third and more expensive one? All these cars will be provided with free gasoline and other maintenance items from the bottomless transportation allowance of the Comelec.

When I was appointed to the Supreme Court in 1986, I was assigned a 1972 Mercedes-Benz that was even then already fit for the junkyard. I used it for eight and a half years — and that one car only — until I retired in 1994. I surrendered that vehicle to the high tribunal, but not even its minor officials to whom it was offered were willing to use it. It must now be rotting somewhere in the court premises unless it has been cannibalized or sold for scrap iron.

I don’t know if our successors are enjoying new and more official cars. If they are, I would say — without justifying the privilege — that they are far more deserving compared to the hedonists in the Comelec. The high tribunal may have its own faults too, as its past and present conduct may confirm. But its justices are, at least, not held with the same public distrust, and even contempt, as the members of the Comelec.

The Comelec used to be a merely statutory office but was converted into a constitutional body under the Commonwealth Constitution. The purpose was to improve its independence by insulating it from abolition by the legislature and prohibiting the removal of its members except by the difficult process of impeachment. Regrettably, these measures have not repaired its tattered prestige as the supposed guardian of the rights of suffrage.

Despite the constitutional guaranties to its integrity, the Comelec has long been disdained for its corruption. In the now discredited case of Mabanag v. Lopez Vito, 78 Phil. 1, it conducted the illegal plebiscite that sustained the infamous Parity Amendment. In 1949, it permitted the birds and the bees in Lanao to defeat the winning presidential bid of Jose P. Laurel. Dagdag-bawas became its official policy during the Marcos years that triggered EDSA I and the downfall of the dictatorship. Even now, the Comelec continues to provoke public impatience and suspicion over its reprehensible conduct.

As if its flawed integrity were not enough, there is also its gross inefficiency. In the 1998 elections, the country was again uglified by posters that mocked our election laws. In violation of Rep. Act. No. 7941, it made full-page newspaper disclosure of the names of the nominees of the party-list entries. Computerization of the voting lists has yet to be begun despite the funds allotted for the purpose. And the vices of vote-buying, terrorism, flying voters continue to counterfeit the voters’ will.

One could reasonably expect that a new broom would sweep clean, but not chair Abalos. He must think that he is still mayor of Mandaluyong or chair of the MMDA where political accommodation is de rigueur even against the public welfare. As head of the Comelec, he has the wonderful opportunity to reform it into the respectable body envisioned by the Constitution to ensure “free, orderly, honest, peaceful and credible elections.” Instead, he has given himself and his colleagues brand-new million-peso cars.

Oustanding debts of outstanding officials, July 28, 2002

NOT being a basketball enthusiast, I was not thrilled when Sen. Robert Jaworski leaped last week with his usual athletic agility from the erstwhile “new majority” in his chamber to the camp of the administration senators. That move debunked Sen. Edgardo Angara’s  assurance that his group, which he naively believed still included Jaworski, was “solid as a rock.” It turned out to be as hollow as a broken drum.

As expected, Jaworski’s apostasy was described by the administration as “statesmanlike” and “patriotic.” The description was preposterous. Such adjectives do not become the man who is more familiarly described as “rough” and “rowdy” for his exploits on the basketball court. He is not as outstanding on the Senate floor.

As a legislator, he has not distinguished himself for the depth of his intellect, his concern for the public interest, and his flair in debate and public speaking. Even his phonics is defective. In fact, he is one of the members of the Senate who have lowered its quality from the honorable days when it was graced by worthier members.

The Drilon group is, of course, happy to welcome him; after all, as the practical Eulogio Rodriguez Sr. put it, “politics is addition.” The old warrior may have hesitated a bit, though, because of this recruit’s lack of any appreciable legislative achievement. His political antecedents are also suspect. One of the Craven Eleven who doggedly supported Estrada during the impeachment trial, Jaworski is now on the other side.

President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo has finally admitted her long denied role in Jaworski’s desertion of his former comrades in the opposition. Everyone knows her not so covert attempts to win over some of the Angara senators while paying lip service to the separation of powers. She has certainly learned much from her sire about the art of raiding the enemy.

In 1961, the people elected Diosdado Macapagal president but with a Nacionalista-dominated Congress to check him. Soon enough, 25 NP members joined the Liberal Party to form an Allied Majority that the Supreme Court dismissed, in Cunanan v. Tan, 5 SCRA 1, as a merely temporary realignment. That difficulty was easily repaired, however. Some of the NP defectors simply affiliated formally with the Liberal Party to give it control of the disarmed House of Representatives.

Ms. Gloria has done her own thing in emulation of her wily father. She has also interfered in the internal affairs of the Senate, using the perquisites of her office to mock the independence of that body. One of these is the employment of government lending institutions as a sword of Damocles over delinquent borrowers from the opposition. Jaworski has vehemently denied any such intimidation, but that should not be the end of the speculation.

It would be useful to know how many of our public officials are indebted to government lending institutions and the amount and status of their obligations. The lenient treatment of their outstanding debts as orchestrated by Malacañang could greatly influence their official acts. Ordinary debtors may not expect tolerant extensions of their loan payments, but members of Congress and the Cabinet are not ordinary debtors.

For all we know, there are scores of them who are not even paying interest on their long overdue accounts while Malacañang looks the other way. The simple trick is being in the good graces of the administration.

In Valmonte v. Belmonte, 170 SCRA 256, the petitioner filed suit to compel the GSIS to release information concerning reports that it had illegally given “clean loans” to some members of the Batasang Pambansa through the intercession of Imelda Marcos. Noting that the funds of the GSIS  were public in nature and the alleged beneficiaries were public officials, the Supreme Court granted the petition in accordance with Art. III, Sec. 7 of the Constitution reading as follows:

 The right of the people to information on matters of public concern shall be recognized. Access to official records, and to documents and papers pertaining to official acts, transactions, or decisions, as well as to government research data used as basis for policy development, shall be afforded the citizen, subject to such limitations as may be provided by law.

That right was also affirmed in Legaspi v. Civil Service Commission, 150 SCRA 530, to question the qualifications of certain appointive civil servants, and more recently, Chavez v. PCGG, 299 SCRA 744, concerning secret negotiations for a compromise agreement between the respondent and the Marcos heirs.

Examination of the outstanding loans of public officials from government lending institutions could expose many cans of worms fattening on public funds. At the very least, it could reveal the identities of privileged individuals, especially those in the government service, who are living it up at the expense of the public. Principles are easily surrendered in exchange for the condonation of debts in the hundreds of millions of pesos belonging to the people.

Reviewing for the bar exams, July 27, 2002

IT’S bar review time again, with thousands of nervous students boning up for the bar examinations scheduled on the four weekends of September. The bar review courses used to be concentrated only in Metro Manila, but some have since been organized in Cebu, Davao, Legazpi City and other places in the south. The decentralization has benefited many students in those areas who otherwise would have to spend a small fortune on board, lodging and other miscellaneous expenses during the five-month review course.

When I was the bar reviewer in Political Law and International Law in many colleges in Metro Manila, I could easily identify the reviewees from the provinces, or the “outsiders.” (I do not use this term derogatorily but only for purposes of comparison.) They were the ones who assiduously took notes during the lectures, evidently of things they had never heard before in their earlier studies. They were not merely reviewing these matters but actually learning them for the first time. The “locals,” by contrast, just sat by recalling old lessons like familiar friends.

I do not mean to disparage the law colleges outside Metro Manila, which, I am certain, are generally competent. But the availability of reading materials is a problem that can impede the student’s learning in some of the small law schools with inadequate libraries. Since 1995, I have been conducting part of the bar review in Political Law organized by the UP Law Center in Cebu and Davao, and my recurrent observation is that many of the reviewees lack up-to-date reading and review materials. Some have copies only of the Constitution. Those who have approached me to autograph my books for them have presented me with earlier editions mostly grown obsolete.

Books are necessary to the law student as tools are to the carpenter. With the rapid developments in jurisprudence and legislation, it is necessary for the bar candidates to keep abreast of the changes in the law. The bar reviewer is there to help, but mostly by only reminding them of general principles; after all, he is handling only a review. He cannot discuss the details, as in the regular course, because of his limited time to cover the field assigned to him.

Fortunately, it is the practice now of the review courses to distribute among its enrollees what are familiarly known as “handouts,” consisting of case reports, important statutes and other pertinent materials. This is one of the advantages not usually available to the bar candidate who must, for financial constraints, make do with reviewing only by himself.

As the bar examinations draw nearer, rumors will begin to fly about the “psychological make-up” of the chair of the bar examination committee and his probable committee members. Are they liberal or conservative? What are their political leanings? Enterprising Bar Operation groups will get a “profile” of each examiner and try to anticipate the questions he will ask. They will study his past examination questionnaires if he is a professor, his ponencias if he is a judge, or cases he has won if he is a practitioner. Some may even try to discover the examiner’s favorite justice and study his decisions too.

There is the current conjecture that as the chair of the coming bar examination committee is Justice Vicente V. Mendoza, there will be much emphasis on American jurisprudence in the coming tests. The common impression is that, having taken up post-graduate studies in the United States, he is a disciple of Mother America even in legal matters. That is a stupid fear, of course, because the candidates are supposed to be tested on their knowledge of our own laws and not of others. A contrary policy would be especially hurtful to the candidates from the provinces where local textbooks are hardly available, let alone foreign law publications.

I do not mean by this that American decisions should not be excluded altogether for the rule in legal hermeneutics is that imported statutes carry with them their imported interpretation from the country of origin. That is the reason why our Supreme Court often dances to the tune played by the American courts. As much as possible, however, we should rely on our interpretation of such laws based on our own conditions, needs, and even temperaments and idiosyncrasies. We do not need foreign decisions as a mental crutch.

Bar examinees during my time were much more self-reliant compared to the present crop of candidates. The adult bar candidates today are being coddled. We did not enjoy the benefit of the present Bar Operations sponsored in practically every law college, including breakfast lectures, mass prayers, busing to the examination site, and even hotel billeting. While the examinations are in progress, well wishers keep watch outside — parents and spouses and siblings and sweethearts — while student groups cheer their respective candidates with streamers and song and, before, even floats.

Every bar examination is a celebration, but the results are another matter. These are received with mixed feelings of  joy, unbelief and despair.

A vacuum of leadership, July 21, 2002

THE TROUBLE with our present government is the lack of responsible leadership. It was different decades ago when we had in fact a surfeit of that virtue.

The American colonial administration recognized the statesmanship of such Filipino stalwarts as Quezon, Osmeña, and Sumulong. After the Pacific War, Laurel, Roxas, Recto, Rodriguez and others kept our democracy alive. Our Republic was later graced by the likes of Magsaysay, Garcia, Tañada, and Diokno, among many others. Aquino was slain because he would not surrender defiance to dishonor. Marcos could have been in our firmament of patriots had he not opted for greed rather than greatness.

This is not to say that our past leaders were paragons of political perfection. They were not, nor did they pretend to be. Many of them had extra-marital relations like Joseph Estrada although not as scandalously as his harem. Vote-buying and private armies maintained a number of them in elective office. Presumptuous candidates won elective positions that later exposed their gross incompetence. And there was also graft and corruption albeit not in the present astronomical dimensions.

Fortunately, the bad apples did not contaminate the rest in the basket.  The bulk of Philippine officialdom continued to regard public office as a public trust even before that cliché was incorporated in the Constitution. Many of our past political leaders honored their positions with the strong and sincere resolve to truly serve the people. They did this honestly, to the best of their abilities, and with full fidelity to the paramount public interest under the rule of law.

Regrettably, those exemplary public servants have not motivated their present successors. Where their principles and courage could have inspired the current leadership, their altruism is now derided as impractical and even foolish. Politicians today place more value on pragmatism and its obvious not-so-secret rewards. Selflessness only takes second place, if at all. This attitude cannot be more apparent than in the present condition of the country as emasculated by its immature and irresponsible leaders.

Many who rejoiced over Erap’s ouster are back in the slough of despond. We are again in square one with little hope for our increasingly bleak future. The children are especially threatened because they are especially defenseless. There is no assurance from our present crop of public officials that this land of the morning will ever see the dawn Rizal envisioned. Malacañang, Congress and even the Supreme Court are steadily losing the people’s confidence.

One if not the principal cause of the growing distrust in the government is President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo herself. Many saw her as the redeemer from the shambles of the past misrule, but that illusion lasted only for a fleeting moment. That is the lifespan of many of her urong-sulong pronouncements that have confused and disenchanted many of her earlier supporters.

Easily the most questionable of her current brainstorms is her announced amiability toward some suspect figures from the Erap years. The remnants of that shameful period are thrilled by the projected appointment of Sen. Blas Ople as the premier member of her Cabinet. Ople was a pillar of the Marcos tyranny and a steadfast defender of the disgraced Estrada. The new President is also welcoming the Puno brothers and Jim Policarpio, earlier rejected as Erap’s courtiers, to be her own advisers — on what?

Although she denies it, the offer of the Cabinet post to Ople is intended to defuse the conflict in the Senate. I like to think that its supposed reorganization was triggered by the effort of the opposition senators to prevent the release of the adverse findings of three Senate committees against Sen. Panfilo Lacson for drug trafficking. I had nagged the Senate in this column about that matter until its disclosure could no longer be delayed. The so-called “new majority” has rejected the report and ordered a new investigation, which will likely be a whitewash.

As unacceptable as La Gloria may be, the opposition under Sen. Edgardo Angara is no less dismissible. His minor talents mock his major ambitions. The two are in fact political clones as unabashed opportunists. Worse, some of their respective companions in the political hierarchy are not even intellectually qualified; they are there because of the bakya crowd, the most malignant bane of Philippine politics.

It is said that in times of crisis, someone emerges to displace the weak leadership and rescue the nation from disaster. During the Great Depression in the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt became president and brought America back on its feet. Charles de Gaulle rebounded from obscure retirement to restore the pride if not the grandeur of France. Winston Churchill rose from the backbenches of Parliament and made England survive and prevail.

Let us pray that from our present confusion and helplessness there will arise a benevolent and dynamic leader who will point to us the way to better days. I do not believe there is “no credible alternative” among all of us 80 million Filipinos, who cannot be that doomed or beyond salvation.

Cheapening the Court, July 20, 2002

THERE  was a notice sometime ago from the Judicial and Bar Council announcing the names of persons who have “applied/been nominated” for two positions of associate justice in Supreme Court. The public was allowed to “submit any information,written report, sworn complaint or opposition” against any of the applicants not later than July 15.

The list contained 21 names, many of which are unfamiliar to me. Popularity, however, is not a criterion for appointment to the highest tribunal. Some of those obscure persons may be eminently qualified except that they are not or have not sought to be in the limelight. As the poet says, “full many a flower is born to blush unseen and waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

I have no complaint against any on the list, whether prominent or not, as long as he has not “applied” to be a member of the Supreme Court. Conversely, I express my respect for those listed, whether prominent or not, who have been nominated by others instead of directly presenting themselves for a seat in the highest tribunal.

It is said that the position must seek the person and not the other way around. This is generally true of the appointive office, and especially so of membership in the Supreme Court. A  justice of the highest court in the land is a cut above ordinary citizens in prestige, competence, and no less important, decorum.

Justices of the Supreme Court are not politicians or cease to be so once they don judicial robes. Politicians from the President down to the barangay kagawad must ingratiate themselves with the public to get or retain their votes. President Macapagal-Arroyo has worn many tribal costumes because she things that is expected of her. Justices, and even only judges, do not engage in such artificialities.

Politicians must act that way if they are to survive the rough-and-tumble of the hustings. They are essentially cheap because they have to go down to the level of the cheap voters. Some upright officials have resisted that demagoguery like the very proper Sergio Osmeña  Sr., who did not even choose to campaign during his last hurrah. But his was already a vanishing breed even during that time.

To succeed in politics today, one must be able to warble a song, dance a jig, or dunk a basketball. These extra-constitutional qualifications may trounce the serious candidate who is only honest and intelligent. It is not wholly the fault, though, of the cheap politician; the greater share is with the bakya crowd. The best proof of their inimical influence is the election of Joseph Estrada as President of the Philippines.

My friend and colleague, the late Celing Fernan, was fond of singing in public even when he was already a member of the Court. But he voluntarily denied himself that pleasure when he became Chief Justice. Judges, and especially justices of the Supreme Court, must conform to a stricter code of decorous conduct. Their function is to interpret and apply the law, not cater to the popular will or be intimidated by the hooting throng.

That is why I am disturbed by the JBC list that included some persons who have “applied” for appointment as associate justice of the high tribunal. From my own viewpoint, their application is unthinkable and impermissible; it is clearly conduct unbecoming a judge. The JBC does not think so, however; it has accepted and even publicized the debasement of the Court and the presumptuous applications themselves.

When I chaired some years ago a committee to choose the best criminal case decision written by a regional trial court judge, I laid down the rule that any entry saying that the accused was “charged of” the crime should be automatically disqualified. I submit the JBC should also disqualify any person who has such a meager respect for himself as to further cheapen it by directly applying to be a justice of the Supreme Court.

I suppose it would be permissible for a person to apply for a judgeship in the lower courts, but a stricter degree of humility, or plain propriety, is required of an aspirant for the Supreme Court. There should be at least one person who believes in the candidate’s eligibility and is willing to spare him the indignity of himself touting his own virtues. If there is not a single person who can do that for him, the applicant is obviously lacking not only in modesty but also ability.

As far as I know, none of the members chosen for the reorganized Supreme Court in 1986 applied for their appointment. I myself was never interviewed by the selection committee, whose membership I have yet to learn. It might have included Justice Cecilia Muñoz Palma because it was her husband, the late Dean Rodolfo Palma, who asked me for my resumé. I can only guess who the other members were.

I hope the JBC will confine its recommendations to those who were nominated by others, excluding those who nominated themselves. The applications of these impertinent persons should never have been accepted at all.