Read this in The Manila Times digital edition.
NOW pending before the courts and the judgment of history are three cases of utmost national, even global, importance.
First, there is a growing number of individuals and groups, including construction firms, that are being tagged as involved in the flood control inside job rip-off. Much of the awareness and the following public scorn of the issue is owed to President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. when he mentioned the identity of 15 flood control contractors in his State of the Nation Address (SONA) last year. While the public awaits a follow-up report on the matter in the upcoming SONA next month, he, too, must be subjected to scrutiny, not so much because his detractors say he benefited from kickbacks, but rather because he is expected to be on top of everything that the administration does.
Second, there is the looming impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte.
And third is the crime against humanity trial of former president Rodrigo Duterte by the International Criminal Court (ICC) at The Hague, the Netherlands.
The first and second cases mostly deal with allegations of stealing. Three out of four charges filed by the House of Representatives before the Senate impeachment court have something to do with stealing, or with dishonesty that has an apparent intent to steal.
The third case is about killing.
That we have come to this point is proof that none of our laws work to deter wrongdoing in government. Records show that from 2018 to 2025, P1.2 trillion worth of flood control projects have been funded. Observers note that more than half of that amount has been lost to ghost and substandard projects. Even for other infrastructure projects, only 30 percent of the allocated budget ends up in actual works, according to Baguio City Mayor Benjamin Magalong.
The magnitude of the losses (from the perspective of the general public) and the length of time during which the grafters have been making hay question our ability to smell and stick our collective noses. Our politicians have been ripping us off for decades, in amounts that could have built a bridge linking Pag-asa Island to Palawan, yet it took a SONA for the rage to erupt. One hopes that Marcos’ anti-corruption stance is a deviation from Duterte’s “I hate drugs” mantra. Otherwise, like the one who made the drug war a cover for a money-making enterprise, according to the quad committee of the House of Representatives, he could be seen as a major consignee of the cash-heavy “maleta” delivered door-to-door by the 18 cargadores, who also happen to be fronting the allegations.
So, yes, by all means, let us probe Marcos. There are almost 350 members of Congress; let us probe all of them also. Not one of those tasked with handling public funds should be exempted.
This, of course, is easier said than done. Our laws and the administrative apparatus seem inadequate to cope with the workload, much less satisfy public expectations. Congressional investigations are quirky and cannot be expected to respond evenly to every need, 24/7, regardless of the incoming political weather.
The graft courts (Sandiganbayan) and the Ombudsman’s Office cannot free themselves from the perception of serving at the behest of the ruling government. The dismissal of so many graft cases involving parties that are connected to wielders of power is a reminder of how justice around here works, oftentimes not because the cases lacked merit, but simply because the prosecutors skipped the scheduled hearings.
Criminal cases, when elevated to the courts, are rightly called the respondents-suspects versus “the people of the Philippines” because the offended party is a representation of the common good. The truth-seeking judicial process has a moral underpinning. It acknowledges that hurting a part of a community hurts the whole community.
But the system of representation in government, which is dysfunctional in the executive and legislative branches, is similarly dysfunctional in judicial processes. In judicial cases, the people of the Philippines are represented by public prosecutors who, even after undergoing merit and fitness selection and promotion processes sanctioned by civil service rules, often secure their appointments on account of political connections. They have security of tenure, but they are not immune to political accommodation, especially when opportunities for career breakthroughs are on the table.
Resolving cases in favor of “the people of the Philippines” is an exception rather than the norm. There is doubt whether both the flood control anomalies and the Sara impeachment will be resolved in favor of accountability and justice. The country simply does not have the legal and cultural framework for such a tradition-driven process. Even if wrongdoers are eventually hauled to jail, the next ruling government is likely to free them, casting doubt on how the truth and justice are being appreciated across eras. Which is why the ICC trial can be seen as a promise for the inviolability of universal truth.
The ICC trial can also be liberating in ways lost while the political leaders quarrel.
Stealing can be expressed in numbers, but killing, never. Stealing takes the food away from the poor; killing consumes the soul of a nation. While this is by no means saying that probing cases of stealing demands less urgency than killing, the hierarchy of moral values and idealism suggests that everything else needs to be dropped until its final resolution.