Her father's daughter

Her father's daughter

Updated 00:36am (Mla time) Oct 31, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 31, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


ILOCOS Norte Rep. Imee Marcos has cut a high profile in the ongoing congressional inquiry into the alleged corruption in the Armed Forces of the Philippines. She tangled with the always-testy Interior Secretary Angelo Reyes over his mother's tax returns. She buttonholed another former AFP chief of staff, Diomedio Villanueva, about his willingness to disclose his Statement of Assets and Liabilities.

When Maj. Gen. Carlos Garcia was a no-show at the first hearing, she threatened (a week ahead of Sen. Miriam Defensor-Santiago) to block the confirmation of offending military officials at the Commission on Appointments. When Garcia finally showed up, she speculated loudly about an alleged P50-million public relations offensive funded by generals.

At one point, a columnist in another newspaper described her as asking "searching questions" about various aspects of corruption in the military during the televised hearings.

High-profile stuff, except for one thing. Her questions were not searching enough. If anything, and taken together, they can be understood as an attempt to gloss over the fundamental reality that has marked the AFP the last 40 years. It was her father, the late dictator Ferdinand Marcos, who corrupted the military.

This is not to say that everyone in the AFP, or even in the corps of generals, is necessarily corrupt. Or that those generals who are in fact corrupt bear no responsibility because the blame has been laid squarely at the foot of the dictator's glass coffin.

Corruption in the military, like corruption elsewhere in government, remains a matter of choice. Individuals make the personal decision to divert some of the budget, or accept a supplier's bribe, or favor an influential businessman in a locality. But Marcos created a culture in the military that made it easier for both officers and the rank and file to make the fatal choice.

The country's most successful politician started by politicizing the AFP. From his first election as president, until his last days as dictator, Marcos applied bailiwick politics ruthlessly. The most important demographics were Ilocano roots and personal loyalty. The best example remains the most obvious. Marcos maneuvered his cousin and former driver Fabian Ver through the ranks, finally appointing him AFP chief of staff over much more qualified officers.

By aggressively promoting those loyal to him personally and those who hailed from the so-called Solid North, Marcos devalued the traditional military virtues of courage and competence, merit and discipline.

Marcos then corrupted the military by rewarding his partisans and buying off others. Essentially, he turned generals into businessmen, even while they were in military service.

The stir over Garcia's many houses is a faint echo of public outrage over the generals' mansions that came to light in the mid-1980s-many of them in expensive residential villages near Camp Aguinaldo, all of them out of reach of a general's standard pay.

A consummate lawyer, Marcos worked hard to keep up legal appearances. He was quite vain about the legal justification for martial rule, which he called constitutional authoritarianism. But in truth, his regime was kept in power in part through the use of the military.

Thus, Marcos undermined the military by giving it a heady taste of political power. He brought the boys out of the barracks, as it were, and it has since been a struggle to keep them there.

In other words, he corrupted the military in the same way he corrupted Philippine democracy itself, by subverting it from within and undermining its foundations.

This is the reality that the dictator's daughter fails to see, or does not want us to see. If she were serious about reforming the AFP -- which has been since 1986 a sometimes troubled but undeniably pro-democratic institution-she would begin by looking for traces of her father's rule. (They're everywhere.)

But that is as likely to happen as Garcia suddenly remembering a plausible justification for his unexplained wealth. No Marcos has even apologized for the excesses, the torture, the billion-dollar corruption, that marked the dark days of the dictatorship. We shouldn't hold our breath, expecting them to start now.

Insanity

Insanity

Updated 00:49am (Mla time) Oct 30, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 30, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


IN THE LAST few days, Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago has managed to make a spectacle of herself. Perhaps not coincidentally, she reserved her most outrageous statements for Thursday, the day the second and thankfully last part of her life story aired on ABS-CBN Broadcasting.

It is time to set her straight.

It is insane to think, that in order to respond to accusations raised by elected officials, you need to be elected to office yourself. But that is exactly what Santiago claims.

Last Thursday, in yet another foaming mouthful, Santiago accused the wives of all generals in the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) of either enjoying the fruits of corruption or engaging in corrupt practices themselves.

Susan Abaya, the wife of the recently retired AFP Chief of Staff, responded to Santiago's blanket accusation by doing the reasonable thing. She asked the senator, naturally, to name names. "Pity those who are not guilty," Abaya explained.

Santiago's arrogant, undemocratic reply: "Who's she?"

The senator said Ms Abaya had no right to direct a challenge at her, because she had been elected to the Senate and Ms Abaya was a mere "private citizen." (Earlier in the week, Santiago also called AFP spokesperson Lt. Gen. Edilberto Adan an "anonymous little insect," the "lowest official in the food chain in the AFP." His crime? He called her privilege speech claiming systemic corruption in the military "way off line.")

It has been almost six months since the last election, so hypocritical candidates may have forgotten why they courted the votes of mere private citizens so assiduously then. Let us remind them. Every person in a democracy counts, precisely because sovereignty resides in the people. A citizen, even a mere private one, is by definition a particle of that sovereign power.


Delusion

IT MAY be difficult for Santiago, who prides herself inordinately in her intelligence, to grasp the essential nature of discourse in a democracy. But let us repeat it for her sake. Reason is not a function of power. Let us restate the obvious in a way even an alleged intellectual cannot misunderstand: A senator's arguments are not sound because of her high office; they are sound because they are logical, consistent, persuasive.

Unfortunately, we cannot say these of Santiago's latest rantings.

Consider her comments about "civilian authority."

It is insane to think that in the give and take between a government official and a private citizen, who happens to be the wife of a general, the principle of civilian supremacy over the military applies. But that is exactly what Santiago claims.

In a radio interview the other day, Santiago said she wanted to remind "that woman" (Ms Abaya, incidentally, is undersecretary of the National Anti-Poverty Commission) that under the Constitution, it was clear that "civilian authority is, at all times, supreme over the military."

Does Santiago, once a legal luminary, mean to suggest that a civilian outranks any member of the military? Unlikely, if she remembered denigrating Abaya as a mere private citizen and thus a civilian herself. Does she mean that any elected official exercises "civilian authority" over the military? Again, unlikely, if she remembered anything from constitutional law, which she was reputedly once good at. Or does she really mean to suggest that, 14 years after she lost the presidential elections to Fidel Ramos, she still considers herself the actual commander in chief? Civilian supremacy, after all, is primarily exercised through the presidency.

In truth, Santiago raised the civilian supremacy non-issue to try to shut up Ms Abaya. She had done it once before, to try to put Adan in his place. "A general commits unconstitutional insubordination when he arrogates the power to judge the statements of a senator contained in a privilege speech," she said.

And there, Hamlet-like, is the rub.

In the same way that she believes that the wife of a general feeling unfairly alluded to cannot ask the blanket accuser to substantiate claim with evidence, Santiago self-evidently believes that a member of the military cannot ever "judge the statements of a senator."

Amazing. The magnitude of delusion required to sustain that belief simply boggles the mind.

Destructive distraction

Destructive distraction

Updated 00:59am (Mla time) Oct 29, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 29, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


FEAR and rumors are contagious. In the case of recent rumors of coup plots being hatched, these have provoked fears verging on panic in the some quarters.

The apparent drift of the administration, combined with increasingly hostile rhetoric from some oppositionists, hasn't helped. President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo has been perceived, first of all, as being stuck in an ever-expanding quicksand of her own making: the ever-increasing, and increasingly illogical, appointments made by her as well as attempts to tinker with the bureaucracy by creating new entities such as the Office of Special Concerns (whatever it is or whatever it is supposed to do). Some opposition politicians, such as former senator Francisco Tatad, have also been trying to shake things up by speaking darkly of the need to replace the President with a nebulous junta composed of a mismatched collection of prominent names.

Opportunists apparently want to make use of the corruption scandal involving Major General Carlos F. Garcia to tip the balance in their favor. Suddenly, the massive majority of the ruling coalition, and the President's astounding ability to muddle her way through even her own best efforts to sabotage her ability to rule, have an antidote. That antidote is the threat, whether manufactured or not, of military intervention.

Military intervention is precisely the sort of pressure the administration's stable of political operators lack the courage or the means to resist. For the opposition, the prospect of being backed with bayonets can compensate for the popularity it lacks.

However, both sides -- the administration as it panics and suffers from the lack of allies willing to defend it, and the opposition in salivating over the chance to bastardize people power through a naked power grab -- do not take into account the public and the military. If no large segment of the population is prepared to sacrifice in order to keep the administration in power, there is no equivalent segment prepared to risk all for the opposition. The same applies to the military. If some generals, whether out of fear of being exposed as crooks, or out of a genuine desire to change the system, want to mount a coup, they cannot be sure if anyone will follow them. After all, where would a coup lead the country? Would it lead to a solution to current problems?

Even former senator Gregorio Honasan, a coup expert if there was one, says no. "A coup attempt is totally uncalled for. It will not solve the problem," he told the media.

Would a coup help the opposition? Oppositionists weren't pleased by talk circulating last Tuesday that Senator Edgardo Angara had met with the President. Their meeting seems to have born fruit, with Ms Arroyo announcing the other day that she had invited Angara and his Laban ng Demokratikong Pilipino party to join her in forging "a covenant of national unity." The opposition, as before, remains divided. It also has no love for -- and is not loved by -- many retired generals.

Would a coup help the military? It would only help to prove the rank and file gullible and the officer corps selfish beyond redemption. Coup fears, in fact, have been kept at bay by a growing suspicion that our soldiers aren't so dumb, and our officers so totally corrupt, that any significant number of them would be tempted to join a coup.

The truth is, plotting coups or circulating rumors of a coup is an act of desperation by officers whose desperation is shared by some politicians. Even if corrupt officers are outnumbered by fairly honest ones, it only takes a few to send the rest on red alert.

However much the administration may be adrift now, it can try to milk coup rumors for all they are worth, including a tactical alliance with some opposition figures. And no matter how divided the opposition may be, ambition springs eternal and coup rumors are useful to those out of power. And whatever it is politicians and generals actually want, coup rumors help to distract the country.

This is a distraction no one needs. These are fears the country can do without. The simple truth is, the only reason to attempt a coup is to protect the guilty.

Royalty

Royalty

Updated 01:04am (Mla time) Oct 28, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the October 28, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


IF there is justice in this world, no Filipino children would be at the mercy of toxic wastes left at the former US military bases in Clark and Subic. If there is justice in this world, they would -- like all children should -- be happily at play and looking to a future brimming with hope. They would not be grievously ill and their bodies riddled by afflictions directly caused by the toxins still enveloping their homes, poisoning the water they drink and the very air they breathe. Quite simply, they would not be dead.

More than a decade after the US bases on Philippine soil were closed down in September 1991, toxic waste contamination remains an undiminished plague. Yet the cleanup long demanded of the United States by various groups is not tagged high priority in Philippine government projects. Nowhere is it mentioned in President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo's 10-point agenda (unless "the development of Clark and Subic as the best international service and logistic centers in the region" includes it, although that's a bit of a stretch); it did not even merit lip service in her perfervid spiels during the election campaign. Even otherwise attentive observers forget, momentarily riveted as they are by the increasingly difficult business of living, as well as by the scandals on unexplained wealth. Yet the problem continues to fester, like a boil slowly coming to a head.

On top of her commitments as president of Amade Mondiale (and true-blue member of royalty), Princess Caroline of Hanover has been requested to tell the world the story of the stricken Filipino children at the former US bases. As reported by the Inquirer, the princess acknowledged the request of seven-year-old Michael Pili's grandmother Norma, who, in voicing it to the esteemed visitor on Tuesday, managed to convey the desperate nature of their existence. Michael is one of 500 children whose illnesses have been directly linked to toxic waste contamination. There are many others like them whose cases are undocumented; some have given up the ghost.

Michael's grandmother in effect conveyed, that if her government could not, or would not, do something about him and others like him, perhaps Caroline of Hanover would. Not that the grandmother was grasping at straws in nursing that hope. By accounts, the princess is of a different mold and does not belong to the category of the merely decorative. She had written US President George W. Bush as early as 2002, seeking the cleanup of the former American bases as well as compensation for the victims of toxic waste contamination. And Amade, along with the Philippines' Alliance of the Bases Cleanup, has brought the issue to the United Nations. (Compare this with the slow action of the Philippine government, which did not even have the spine to push the cleanup as a fair exchange for its swift, unequivocal support for the US-led "war on terror" and subsequent invasion of Iraq.)


class

CLASS is as class does. Princess Caroline's brief stay in the Philippines to visit and raise funds for the facilities of the Virlanie Foundation Inc. is remarkable for being low-key -- in more ways than one. In her visits to shelters for single mothers, street children and other minors involved in crime or victims of abuse, or the Madapdap resettlement site in Mabalacat town in Pampanga province, she was noteworthy for a simplicity of appearance and manner. (On television, a 14-year-old victim of rape who had, with others like herself, just sung for the princess, said she was moved to tears by the latter's quiet, appreciative presence. It was as though, the girl said, not without a tinge of wonder, Caroline understood her plight.)

This simplicity, at once both elegant and intense, imbues in the princess a certain power and makes of her a worthy president of Amade Mondiale, otherwise known as the World Association of Children's Friends. She commands attention because of it, and thus effectively serves to focus attention on the state of some of the unfortunate children on the planet, and what prosperous countries and sectors can do to help.

Caroline of Hanover calls to mind what Daniel Barenbolm wrote of the late literary critic and activist Edward Said, who, he said, had a "musician's soul" and "knew quite well that in music, force is not power, something that many of the world's political leaders do not perceive." Long may her star shine.

Consolation prize

Consolation prize

Updated 01:07am (Mla time) Oct 27, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 27, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


WHEN Senator Panfilo Lacson said, "I don't think the congressmen realize that what they are investigating is [Major General] Carlos Garcia's version of their own pork barrel," he had a point. The point primarily involves perception, but it's also an institutional one. Lacson told the press: "Assuming the allegations against General Garcia are true -- that he took commissions from suppliers -- what makes the difference between a general receiving commissions from a congressman or a senator receiving commissions from suppliers and contractors? It's the same banana."

This is Lacson's point on perception: The public is not giving credit to the House of Representatives for looking into the accusations against Garcia. His institutional point is also fair: There is no difference, morally or, it can be argued, even legally, between a general skimming off the top and being on the take, and a legislator receiving commissions and bribes. Both represent people in authority violating their duties and acting irresponsibly. Both involve people on the public payroll breaking the law.

He also has a point in suggesting that his legislative colleagues "take a good look at themselves in the mirror before asking questions." But is it correct to suggest, as his statements imply, that Congress has no business mounting hearings on the Garcia case?

Congressional hearings are not part of the process of meting out justice. That is clear. Congress investigates only in aid of legislation. Does a hearing in aid of legislation include the congressional hearings that have taken on the characteristics of a fishing expedition?

A fishing expedition, in the sense used by the media, is a hearing that attempts to trip up witnesses so that they will come up with information that incriminates either the witnesses or other people. It is a hearing undertaken not to verify facts for the purpose of arriving at informed legislation, but rather to come up with information for political purposes. If the congressmen, for example, who grilled Garcia had gotten him to confess, it would not have helped legislation, although it would certainly have made headlines and perhaps even helped the investigation into his actions.

However, only a court martial and the Office of the Ombudsman can actually do something about Garcia, and only (in the case of a court martial) after a trial by his peers or (in the case of the Ombudsman) a trial before a civilian judge. Congress in and of itself cannot mount either a criminal or administrative investigation or prosecution before the courts.

This is actually the essential point of Lacson's comments. It is a point that has been repeatedly made concerning Congress' use-and abuse-of its authority to hold hearings in aid of legislation. Lacson is fortunate that his colleagues in Congress have been tardy in pointing out the many ways their hearings could have actually aided legislation: for example, in amending the Articles of War, or in drafting a law putting the comptrollership of the Armed Forces in civilian hands, as has been suggested.

This only goes to show that Lacson's suspicion that his congressional peers are interested only in grandstanding, and not justice, might be true. It also serves to fortify the original points of Lacson.

But whether or not the House of Representatives didn't really mean to investigate in aid of legislation, the fact is, in however small a way, the hearings did help to show just how serious the case against Garcia is.

This has nothing to do with the fitness of individual legislators to make inquiries. Rooting out sinners does not require saints. Specifically, since the law is impersonal, its enforcement and operation do not require the enforcers to be law abiding. What it does mean is that the moral aspects of the law are subverted when insincerity and even guilt are suspected of those who try to wield the law.

This is where the concept of moral ascendancy comes in. The law would be much more effective if those who make the laws and enforce the laws are not suspected of ignoring the laws. As things stand, though, better crooks running after another crook, than no one running after crooks at all.

Fixed term

Fixed term

Updated 10:11pm (Mla time) Oct 25, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the October 26, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


LAST week President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo announced the appointment of Lt. Gen. Efren Abu, the commander of the troops that quelled the Oakwood mutiny last year, as the successor of Gen. Narciso Abaya as chief of staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP). Abaya will retire on Friday when he reaches the mandatory retirement age of 56.

Abaya is reported to be in a hurry to leave an AFP whose reputation is in tatters because of the corruption case involving Maj. Gen. Carlos Garcia, suspended AFP comptroller. Abu must be having mixed emotions, because while promotion to AFP chief of staff is a great honor, he probably would prefer to have been elevated to the post under more auspicious circumstances.

Abu is not going to stay long in the AFP chief's post; he will retire on June 24 next year, just about eight months from now. We hope Abu's appointment will not mark the start of another round of "musical chairs" involving the highest post in the military. During President Arroyo's first term, the one where she served out the unexpired tenure of deposed President Joseph Estrada, she appointed six AFP chiefs of staff. They were Generals Diomedio Villanueva (14 months), Roy Cimatu (less than four months), Benjamin Defensor (the shortest term at 80 days although technically he was supposed to serve only 48 hours), Dionisio Santiago (less than five months) and Narciso Abaya (more than 18 months).

This game of musical chairs may have been politically justifiable then because she had to insure the loyalty of the generals who had a big role in ousting Estrada. But, then as now, the practice of appointing AFP chiefs for very short periods is not logically justifiable. It may even give rise to periods of political instability instead of promoting political security. The AFP chief's post is not supposed to be used like a lollipop to be dangled and given to certain generals to keep them contented and pacified.

We believe that the generals would like to be treated like professional soldiers who will abide by the decision of their commander in chief on all matters, including the appointment of the AFP chief of staff. Seniority, of course, is a big factor in appointments but it is not the only factor. There have been instances when a president practiced what is called "deep selection," appointing a junior general over the heads of senior ones. That is part of the prerogatives of a commander in chief.

The Constitution says that the tour of duty of the AFP chief of staff shall not exceed three years. In times of war or other national emergency declared by Congress, the president may extend his tour of duty. But what we have seen during the first term of Ms Arroyo, and what we're seeing now, is that the AFP chiefs of staff have been serving short terms.

A short term for the AFP chief of staff is not conducive to long-term planning for the AFP. It does not promote continuity of programs and policies. And ultimately, it is expensive for the country, for the AFP chief of staff has to be given the retirement pay of a four-star general when he retires. If an AFP chief of staff serves out the full three-year term, the government pays the retirement pay of only one general in three years, instead of three or four if that many generals are made AFP chief during the same period of time.

To repeat, the game of musical chairs may have made political sense during the President's first term when she had to think of insurance against coups and other disturbances from a restive military. But now that she has won an electoral mandate, there is no longer any need to ensure the loyalty of the military -- or is there? The President can now appoint an AFP chief who will enjoy a three-year tour of duty instead of one who will soon be saying his goodbyes shortly after he has warmed his seat.

Congress ought to seriously consider a proposal made by a legislator to fix the term of the AFP chief of staff at three years. This could be done by legislation and may not need a constitutional amendment since the Constitution says that the AFP chief's tour of duty "shall not exceed three years." Then the President would not feel bound by politics or feelings of gratitude to appoint generals who will retire in a few months to the top military post. Then she can choose the most qualified among them so that he can carry out reforms within a longer period and promote stability in an institution that has been intermittently experiencing instability since the EDSA People Power uprising in 1986.

Debt relief 2

Debt relief 2

Updated 10:54pm (Mla time) Oct 24, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 25, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


FOR every P1,000 that the national government spends, some P300 goes to service past debts. This heavy burden has prevented the national budget from becoming the catalyst of growth we need it to be. Tragically, this burden looks set to become even heavier in the future.

Thus, as we suggested yesterday, perhaps, it truly is time to reconsider debt relief. It may finally be time to renegotiate-not merely to arrange longer payment periods or lower interest rates but to reduce-the national government's overall debt stock.

But a crucial caveat: The worst thing that can happen is for the government to unilaterally announce that it will launch an aggressive renegotiation of the public debt, to reduce it.

There is no risk, however, that the Arroyo administration will suddenly abandon a 30-year-old faith and preach the gospel of debt reduction. This is just as well, because the initiative must start and proceed without official government sanction.

Thus, it seems clear that, in reconsidering this option, we must let the private sector take charge. The public letter several business leaders signed and released last week, appealing to the President to set in place a more active population control policy, offers an instructive example.

If the country's business leaders spearhead the campaign to raise the possibility of debt renegotiation, they bring their international credibility, their business reputation, to bear on the matter. They will be in a much better position than government ministers to make the case for the Philippines.

And what is that case, exactly? That our debt burden prevents one of the largest economies in Southeast Asia from realizing its fullest potential; that as the 11 economists from the University of the Philippines have shown, we are at most three years away from fiscal or, perhaps, even economic collapse; that getting paid say 75 cents for every dollar of debt is better than not getting paid at all; that an economy relieved of a large part of its debt burden benefits not only its citizens but its creditors as well.

It is also important to highlight the precedents in debt relief. It is a matter of record that the world's largest economies, thus almost by definition the world's largest creditors, are being converted ever so slowly to the new faith.

To be sure, the beneficiaries of the Highly Indebted Poor Countries initiative are truly impoverished nations, mainly in sub-Saharan Africa. But the HIPC campaign is not a mere gesture of goodwill; it has already reduced the debt stock of the 30 or so poorest nations on earth by billions of dollars. Its example has also emboldened the United States to ask for as much as an 80-percent reduction in Iraq's foreign debt. As an official of Oxfam, the development organization, noted last June: "Iraqi debt is around $126 billion and a large chunk of this is likely to be written off. This suggests that when it is politically convenient, large-scale debt relief is possible."

A developing economy like the Philippines does not fit the existing categories for debt relief; but a private sector initiative led by some of the most reputable businessmen in this part of the world may lead to a new classification. Would it hurt to try?

Not least, it is vital to know that Argentina is not the end of the world. For many who follow the orthodox or mainstream economic persuasion, Argentina is a four-letter word; having fallen into the debt trap in the 1980s and then again in the 1990s, it is used to silence the arguments for debt relief.

If a government defies its international creditors or defaulted on its foreign debt, the counter-argument goes, it will suffer the Argentine scenario. In December 2001, Argentina defaulted on its $150-billion foreign debt-the largest ever default in history. The resulting recession was immediate and devastating. But to focus on what came after is to miss the essential: the debt crisis fed deep social unrest, and creditor-imposed austerity measures led to a one-day orgy of violence which killed dozens and injured thousands.

Now the new administration is offering (among other initiatives) to pay creditors about 25 cents for every dollar of debt. Has the Argentine economy stalled? After contracting in 2002, it grew last year by 8.4 percent. Has it turned into a pariah? Not exactly. Creditors are right in the middle of negotiations, bargaining for 30 cents on the dollar.

Debt relief 1

Debt relief 1

Updated 00:46am (Mla time) Oct 24, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 24, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


THE 11 senior economists from the University of the Philippines School of Economics did the country a signal service when they issued their now famous paper on the deepening fiscal crisis. But their analysis of the "real score on deficits and the public debt" is relatively silent on a crucial question: debt relief.

Like the classic Sherlock Holmes tale, the UP 11 paper is remarkable because of the dog who did not bark. In their analysis, the economists note that current national government spending is at its lowest in a decade, "net of interest payments." In other words, if we remove interest payments for both local and foreign debt from the equation, government spending is actually smaller now than it was two administrations ago.

The growing public debt, then, is part of the problem; it may in fact be the root of it. Consider, for instance, the fact that the national government budget cannot fund all our development needs. Much of it goes to salaries, maintenance and operating expenses, local governments-and debt service. With very little left to spare, the budget cannot possibly provide the economy what it needs. And yet it is a budget we cannot even afford; we have to borrow even more money to pay for it (hence the deficit).

But the option of debt relief (the telltale dog in the debt narrative) is not discussed in the UP 11 paper. "But why does the UPSE step so gingerly around the public debt issue? Could it be because about 80 percent of the total debt is owed to foreign creditors, and dealing seriously with it will mean having to confront these lenders?" ask UP sociologist Walden Bello and Lidy Nacpil and Ana Marie Nemenzo of the Freedom from Debt Coalition.

To be sure, the widely circulated critique from Bello and the FDC is less than completely intellectually honest. It tries to have it both ways, chiding the UP 11 for "ideological bias" and then later attacking them for lacking "intellectual courage" -- essentially, for failing to transcend that same bias. Now, someone who does not offer a particular solution because he has defined the problem differently may be accused of many things, but by definition intellectual cowardice cannot be one of them.

On the matter of "managing" the growing public debt, however, their criticism is to the point: "It is testimony to how full debt repayment according to the terms dictated by our creditors has become a sacred cow that the UPSE paper fails to even suggest [or] mention the possibility of managing it rationally."

This same sacred cow, more and more Filipinos are beginning to realize, has taken over the middle of the road, blocking all progress. The result, in the technical language Bello and the FDC employ: "Along with the structural adjustment measures imposed under the guidance of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund, the strategy of making debt repayment the national priority-which has been followed by every administration since Marcos-has created a condition of structural stagnation..."

How do we coax the sacred cow to move and get out of the way?

Perhaps the time has come to reconsider debt relief.

We do not suggest outright repudiation, although some debts, such as the one incurred at grossly disadvantageous terms to fund the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant, qualify for it. We do not suggest a debt moratorium either; it is critical to collaborate with every single creditor.

What we do suggest is debt renegotiation, starting with the debts incurred by the Marcos regime.

Offense

Offense

Updated 00:51am (Mla time) Oct 23, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on Page A14 of the October 23, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


BY ALL accounts, Lt. Gen. Efren Abu has a reputation in the military for being a "straight-shooter." Soldiers and civilians alike view this member of the Philippine Military Academy's Class of 1972 as both honest and efficient. The expectations surrounding his assumption of the position of chief of staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) are very high.

Had he not been perceived to be lacking in initiative in pursuing the case against Maj. Gen. Carlos F. Garcia, outgoing Chief of Staff Gen. Narciso Abaya would probably have been given an extension of his tour of duty. Instead, Abaya, who himself has enjoyed a good reputation, closes his military career mired in the greatest scandal involving the armed forces. While Abaya, so far, cannot be accused of doing anything wrong, he has fallen prey to an equally grave shortcoming: not doing enough. A general, after all, must both inspire and lead; he must not just be reactive, but proactive. Put in simpler sports terms anyone can appreciate, the best defense is a good offense.

The country is getting increasingly exasperated with the bunker-like mentality of the military, which seems to think that it can hide in a ditch until the action dies down. The AFP cannot afford to duck and sit out this scandal. It certainly cannot miss this historic opportunity to restore its honor and redeem its institutional integrity.

With the transition from Abaya to Abu, the AFP is also experiencing a generation shift. It is this shift that offers the AFP and its leadership the chance to finally cleanse its ranks.

For the first time in generations, too, the AFP is being headed by a civilian, with no ties to the fraternity of PMA graduates and other officers who are now under investigation. For make no mistake about it, the generation of officers represented by Garcia are all under a cloud of doubt.

Because of this rare and well-needed institutional and generational shift, from military to civilian direct supervision and from one PMA class to the next, the AFP leadership has the golden opportunity to stop stealing gold and restore the shine on the brass of its uniforms.

It can be done. Abu has a personal reputation for integrity attractive to the younger generation of officers who are now on the verge of promotion and increased responsibility. For the younger generations of officers, who are sick of being categorized as crooks along with their corrupt elders, this is the time to help clean up the ranks. The time has come, because they are in positions where they can do something about it, to put their careers where their mouths have been: on the line.

The older generals may find it extremely difficult to sacrifice one of their own, but this mistaken sense of solidarity, which owes more to the corrosive and corrupting legacies of martial law, has lost its lease on life. Just as our politics is finally emerging from the shadows of the martial law minions of Marcos, simply because so many of them are already old, retiring, or have died, the same applies to the military. The officers being made generals today were very junior officers during martial law. They, for the most part, never enjoyed the heady perks of absolute power that their elders came to enjoy and expect during martial law. They have seen more, and, in a sense, sacrificed more, because they were more likely to be in the front lines during the past, turbulent 30 years.

At the very least, with a civilian heading the Department of National Defense, one level of cover -- or covering up -- has been eliminated. With a more dynamic, and it is hoped, more daring chief of staff, the AFP can look forward to prosecuting those in cahoots with Garcia, and putting in place a system that does not reward theft with star rank.

No chief of staff can do it alone. That's for sure. Leadership, however, requires that Abu take the first step. The success of his efforts, once begun, lies with the men and women who are his fellow officers. They can finally break free of the cronyism of the martial law AFP, or they can ensure it is perpetuated for another generation. The country they claim to love has made clear its expectations: reform.

Commitment

Commitment

Updated 00:58am (Mla time) Oct 22, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 22, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


THE DECLARATION of the 6,000 members of the Philippine College of Physicians (PCP) that they would practice their calling in the motherland for at least three years is sufficient reason to bring on the clichés. In the face of the shocking number of doctors crowding nursing schools preparatory to heading for the proverbial greener pastures overseas, it's like a candle in the dark, a shot in the arm of an ailing patient, a patch of rain in a drought. And because it comes with the promise that each physician will engage in charity work among the impoverished, the declaration triggers the comforting thought that some medical graduates remain committed to the Hippocratic Oath.

But it's cold comfort. Even as PCP president Adrian Peña signed the declaration last week, the phenomenon of doctors studying to be nurses with the end in view of landing a job in a hospital abroad continues to alarm. Physicians in large numbers are now enrolled in nursing schools nationwide, with certain schools opening special sections to take advantage of the crush.

As noted by a study conducted by the National Institute of Health (NIH), the Philippines has achieved another, somewhat dubious, distinction: It is now the world's No. 1 exporter of nurses. As many as 50,000 nurses, among them ex-physicians, have decamped for parts abroad in the past three years -- unprecedented even in this country that has made a policy of labor export for the longest time, and, according to NIH director Jaime Galvez-Tan, a distressing development that must immediately be addressed.

The NIH says as many as 4,000 doctors are enrolled in nursing courses. The number presumably includes 350 doctors, some of whom work as municipal health officers, studying at the City Colleges of Urdaneta in Pangasinan province. The Philippine Medical Association (PMA), composed of 60,000 registered physicians, counts one member out of five taking up nursing. PMA president Bu Castro concedes that because of the lack of doctors, a "health care crisis" now plagues the rural areas-the same areas that generally get the short end of the stick when the going gets rough. As now.

Health Secretary Manuel Dayrit describes the situation as a "malady" that must be "attacked in body, mind and spirit." But it doesn't look like he'll get much help from an administration that for this year allotted P12.8 billion for health (as opposed to P43.8 billion for the military), and that pays doctors working in state hospitals an estimated $400 a month (as opposed to $4,000 a month for nurses in US hospitals, with immigrant status for family members thrown in).

The "malady" is exacerbated by a government policy that hinges, not on the creation of jobs, but on the continuing export of labor worldwide as housemaids, carpenters, plumbers, waiters, beauticians, nannies, drivers, teachers, caregivers, and -- the latest demand of the industrialized world -- nurses. Is it any wonder that the Philippine Society of Hypertension (PSH), recognizing the drain in doctors/nurses as a threat to local health care, is pushing the education of physicians in the basics of entrepreneurship? The PSH position is simple: If money has become a major problem, committed physicians should not turn to nursing and fly but stay and learn the necessary skills to put up business ventures of their own. It's a case of being able to earn enough from a side activity to honorably support not only oneself and one's family but also one's life commitment.


Passion

THAT medicine is a commitment has long been displayed by many Filipino physicians, well known or unsung. Bobby de la Paz showed it in Samar province in the dark days of the Ferdinand Marcos dictatorship, and paid with his life for it. Ernest "Che" Guevarra showed it in the evacuation centers in Pikit town in the province of Cotabato, and was widely recognized for it.

Guevarra was 25 when he was given the Reebok Human Rights Award in 2003 for bringing health services to people trapped in conflict zones. And yet he was loath to bask in the recognition, which was bestowed at a time of renewed fighting between government troops and separatist rebels in Mindanao.

His formulation of his feelings vis-a-vis the award was both memorable and evocative of the young doctor's passion: "I can't feel the magnitude of the thrill. It's recognition for what I have done, but the situation here is so overwhelming for me to even think about it. With the human suffering here, I can't see the value of my work. Ultimately, I can say that it's joy amidst sorrow."

Silent witness

Silent witness

Updated 02:45am (Mla time)
Oct 21, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on Page A12 of the October 21, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


JUDGING from the belated appearance of the controversial Major General Carlos F. Garcia at the congressional hearings, and using newly available information, we can already see the outline of his defense.

Before the joint House committees last Monday, the former deputy chief of staff for comptrollership (J-6, in military speak) repeatedly invoked his right not to incriminate himself. He also reserved the right to answer the corruption allegations against him at the proper forum. "With due respect, I would like to answer the question before the Ombudsman, the Court of Appeals and the military court," he told the lawmakers.

When he appears in those venues, however, we can be certain he will employ a defense that will depend in large part on the fine art of delegating upwards. In Monday's hearing, he gave a sample of the strategy. "J-6 releases funds only with the approval of the chief of staff," he said. Not to put too fine a point on it, he then offered the negative construction: "J-6 cannot release funds without the approval of the chief of staff."

His defense, we are certain, will also employ a related strategy: minimizing the scope of his responsibilities. On Monday, he tried a variation of a theme we are sure to hear again and again. "We only release [funds]. We don't have discretion."

A third defense strategy may be the most crucial. The most telling pieces of evidence against Garcia have come from his wife, who unwittingly provided US customs officials with a detailed confirmation of their family's illegal sources of income. Now there is talk, from within the military community, that may prove legally useful.

Clarita Garcia has had brain surgery, not once but twice. "That's why I am not surprised why she said those things. Iba na ang [She's on a different] frequency," a retired general told the Inquirer.

In other words, the Philippine version of the insanity defense.

State witness

THE NOTION that the national interest would be better served if the government worked with Major General Carlos F. Garcia as a state witness is premature at best. At worst, it will leave the military unreformed, and allow Garcia to go scot-free

Let us be clear. Turning the dollar-rich, sleep-deprived general into a state witness will likely mean that we won't see any general convicted of graft at all.

That the state witness must be proven to be the least guilty among principals in a crime is the elementary requirement. We cannot even be sure that Garcia, who as comptroller of the Armed Forces had access to military funds, would pass this test. But assuming that he does, we can almost be certain that the legal case against the other generals will be weaker than any case against him. The case against Garcia will be based in large part on smoking-gun documentation, including papers from or submitted to US customs. The case against the other generals, if Garcia turns state witness, will rely on Garcia's own testimony.

Even only in terms of legal tactics, this is not a good deal.

To be sure, Garcia's millionaire lifestyle, as recounted in the documents his own wife submitted to the US customs, cannot be an isolated case. Other generals also live beyond their stated means. But the way to charge them with cases that stick is not to let Garcia get away with it.

If indeed there is evidence beyond reasonable doubt against Garcia, then he must be found guilty. If, in his defense, he maintains that other generals have done it too, then by all means his statements must be used to buttress the cases against the others. If, in the trial, patterns of corruption in the military are proven, then the same patterns should be used to support the other cases.

But throw all the incontrovertible documentation against Garcia into the wind, for the chance to, maybe, just maybe, land a big fish? Nonsense. Garcia is big enough.

Liberation

Liberation

Updated 00:53am (Mla time) Oct 20, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 20, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


EUPHORIA and thanksgiving are strange reactions to bombing, shelling and death. This was, however, the reaction of an overwhelming number of Filipinos to the news that Gen. Douglas MacArthur, together with officials of the Commonwealth government in exile, led by President Sergio Osmeña, Carlos P. Romulo and Basilio Valdes, had landed in Leyte province 60 years ago today.

The return of the Americans brought with it hardship: a great path of destruction was created as the Americans took Leyte and then embarked on taking Luzon. The destruction would culminate in the devastation of Manila, the burning and shelling of which dwarfed even the wrecking of other Philippine cities such as Davao, Cebu and Baguio.

The reaction of Filipinos to the destruction of their homes and the killing of so many that had yearned for liberation was not unique. The French, too, saw many killed and many cities ruined because of the Allied invasion of Europe. In the wake of the D-Day anniversary earlier this year, veterans were interviewed who, to this day, marvel at the outpouring of joy, even amid death and destruction, that greeted Allied forces. The same was the case in Belgium, in Holland and many other occupied countries.

What set apart Filipinos was that they welcomed the Allies while so many of our neighbors and fellow Asians viewed their return with suspicion and even fear. The reason for this is that among all the colonized countries in the world, only the Philippines had been promised, and expected, its independence.

It is difficult for the Filipinos of today to appreciate the tremendous prestige and even trust that the Americans, our allies in the war, enjoyed in this part of the world. Even as Filipinos ecstatically welcomed the return of the Americans, many Asian leaders looked to America for sympathy and even help. Mao Zedong came close to undertaking an alliance with the Americans. Ho Chi Minh tried to enlist American aid. The Indians during the war had looked to America to put pressure on Britain in order to exact concessions from their imperial rulers. If for reasons of ideology, Mao and Ho Chi Minh had no great love of the American way of life, they had some respect for it. And, like Indian leaders such as Nehru, whatever misgivings they may have felt were outweighed by their hatred for the fascism that Japan represented.

This is also something difficult for the Filipinos of today to appreciate: that the hatred of the majority of Filipinos for the Japanese would have been such, that they preferred their cities wrecked and so many dead to remaining one minute longer under the Japanese. This is why the generation alive during the war mostly referred -- and still refer -- to the return of the Americans as "liberation."

To us, today, "liberation" sounds hollow, if not downright delusional. And yet it is what Filipinos felt at the time, and we should respect their feelings. With a few exceptions, this is how they genuinely felt, and in this, they were no different from the French, the Dutch, the Chinese, Koreans and even Vietnamese. World War II was the last "good war," it is often said, because the good were so clearly differentiated from the bad: Nazism and Italian and Japanese fascism were so bad that imperialists could look good.

After World War II, the peoples and leaders who had looked to the America of Franklin D. Roosevelt were bitterly disappointed by the America of Harry S. Truman. Disappointment with America after World War II -- its selfishness, its infuriating conviction that it alone knew what was right and wrong, its ruthlessness in getting what it wanted, and its lack of gratitude for the sacrifices of its allies -- was felt not just by Filipinos, but by the French, and actively opposed by the Chinese and Vietnamese. India, too, under Nehru, tried to foster an independence and solidarity among nations that sought security and dignity through a policy of non-alignment.

Still, a survey of the generation that fought in and lived through the war will show that for the most part, they preferred alliance with the Western powers, imperialist or neo-imperialist to aiding or abetting fascists. Indeed, in recalling the anniversary of the Leyte Landing, what should be remembered is not just the enthusiasm and relief that greeted the return of American forces, but the reasons for that feeling of liberation. Freedom and the desire for it are never wrong. Thankfulness for those who make it possible is never misplaced. Fond memories of an older generation are not for a younger generation to disparage. For freedom gains strength from itself. It took liberation in 1944-45, for us to realize that freedom is not just given, it is earned. And that once earned, it must be earned again, and again.

Picking the University of the Philippines president

Picking the University of the Philippines president

Updated 00:03am (Mla time) Oct 19, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A10 of the October 19, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


THE UNIVERSITY of the Philippines is in the process of choosing its next president. It has to choose the best candidate, for he or she will administer a university system that has a lead role in the shaping of the next generation's leaders, scholars, teachers and achievers.

It goes without saying that the next UP president has to be a scholar. The term "scholar" is derived from the Latin word “schola,” meaning school, and a scholar is a learned person, or one who has done advanced studies in a special field. But the word traces its roots further back to a Greek word whose meaning is leisure. Higher learning in Greece was based on the concept of the proper use of leisure time, or the activities of a free man aimed at the fullest appreciation of life. Thus, the term "liberal" education in contrast to "vocational" or "professional" education, which prepared people to earn a living.

The next UP president has to have a broad, liberal outlook that will favor the teaching of the liberal arts and the humanities. At the same time, considering the need of the youth to earn a living for themselves and their families, the UP president has to prepare and administer a program that will adequately equip graduates with knowledge and skills needed in the professions and vocations.

The next UP president has to have the highest integrity and a strong sense of moral and ethical values. The Romans called it “virtus” -- strength, manliness, conformity to a standard of right, moral excellence. Knowledge without morals is nothing. Intellectual brilliance counts for nothing unless used for good causes. One prime example of this is the dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos, who was a brilliant man but who used his God-given talents for corrupt and evil ends.

The UP president has to set a moral example for the entire university and imbue its faculty members and student body with a sense of purpose. This is especially needed at this time when the university has come under attack for supposedly producing many graduates who have been responsible for some of the graft and corruption and other wrongdoings that are being committed in government.

The next UP president also has to be a good fundraiser. The example of the late Carlos P. Romulo comes to mind. As UP president, he raised a lot of funds and constructed many buildings and facilities on the Diliman campus. The next UP president will have to replicate Romulo's accomplishment in raising funds if he is to make any headway in the efforts to regain the past glory of the state university.

One big source of funds that has not been fully tapped is the hundreds of thousands of UP alumni scattered all over the country and all over the world. We are sure many of them will contribute sizable amounts to help rehabilitate and modernize the state university.

The funds to be raised can be used to improve the physical plant and teaching facilities of the university and to pay competitive salaries to faculty members to prevent them from transferring to other universities here and abroad. Funds are also needed to strengthen ties with the leading universities of the world, expand exchange programs, stimulate research and make the university more accessible to bright students coming from the poorer sectors of the country.

In the recent past, UP ranked 32nd among Asia’s top 100 universities. In 2001, it slid down to a disappointing 48th place. Clearly, something has to be done to arrest the decline of standards at the UP and restore it to its former glory.

In the Middle Ages, the revival of higher learning in Europe was started by the organization of student corporations at the studium in Bologna and the organization of teaching masters in Paris. The word “universitas” denoted a corporation or guild; teachers and students used the model of the guild as their pattern of organization. Then, as now, the primary activity of universities was scholarly study.

But the next UP president will have to determine whether the university should be engaged only in academic or scholarly studies. "University," after all, comes from the Latin “universus,” meaning entire, whole. A university is supposed to develop not just the mind of a student but his entire being. A university is supposed to serve not just its faculty and student body but also the welfare of the nation where it functions and lives.

The next UP president faces a very big challenge. The position should look for the person and not the person for the job. Let us hope, for the sake of the nation, that the best candidate is chosen.

The debates

The debates

Updated 11:36pm (Mla time) Oct 17, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 18, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


ONE last look at the American presidential debates, before the last two weeks of the nastiest US election season in memory overwhelm the rest of the world in millions of dollars of negative advertising.

It is now commonplace, except in some hard-core Republican websites and in parts of the Fox News Network, to say that Sen. John F. Kerry of the Democrats won all three of the debates. Even going by the Republicans' ridiculously low expectations of US President George W. Bush especially in the third debate, the incumbent did not do well at all.

The result is reflected in the surveys of the last three weeks. Before the first debate, Kerry was behind by as much as double-digits. After the first one, the numbers began to tighten. By the end of the third debate last week, the presidential contest was-in the racing language appropriated by the polling firms-a dead heat.

But we think Kerry was only the second biggest winner in the debates. By far the bigger winner was the tradition of debate itself.

As story after story in the US media noted in the run-up to the first debate, American presidential debates have become increasingly "spun." The reality of any debate-what the candidates said, how they argued, what policies or programs they presented or deconstructed-had proven inferior to perceptions about the debate. The most famous, or notorious, example: Al Gore's performance against Bush in the first debate of the 2000 election. Instant polls and the consensus of analysts were unanimous: Gore, the policy wonk, had decisively beaten Bush, the Texas cowboy.

So much for reality: Gore's theatrical sighing in the first debate-apparently to signal to the viewing public his distaste or contempt for Bush's answers-began to attract more and more attention. In a matter of weeks, media "buzz" about Gore's melodramatic sighs had reversed the results; more people perceived Bush to have won that first and most crucial round.

This year, the pre-debate stories dutifully noted the role of spin and the politics of perception. Adding into the mix the substantial lead Bush enjoyed going into the first debate and the undoubted spinning skills of Bush strategist Karl Rove, it became conventional wisdom to suggest that the debates had become nothing more than elaborate political choreography, a once-every-four-years ritual dance that didn't hold much political relevance or offer much political substance.

That notion was shot down from the very first debate.

To be sure, there was ground for all the cynicism. The rules of the debate did not promise much: the candidates were not allowed to directly pose questions to one another, the time limits were strict, only one debate featured questions from the audience, and so on.

But then small changes took place. The candidates, but especially Kerry, used their two-minute answers to address questions to one another, even if only rhetorically. The candidates, but especially Bush, could not wait for the moderator's signal before charging back with a rebuttal. Above all, the TV networks covering the event did not consider themselves bound to the candidates' agreement (pushed by the Bush campaign) to disallow two-camera shots or split-screens.

As a result of these small changes, but especially of the last, more than 60 million Americans (and we dare say millions more watching overseas) saw genuine drama unfold on screen.

The United States, we hear all too often, is a 50:50 nation, deeply divided between the conservatives whom Bush represents and the liberals who supported Gore and now support Kerry. (The reality is much more complex, as the brouhaha over Vice President Dick Cheney's lesbian daughter demonstrates.) What viewers saw in the three debates proved that strong convictions can overflow strict time limits or overtake the best-laid plans.

We think this year's three contests strengthened this laudable political tradition, not because Kerry won all of them, but because contrary to all expectations, they proved to be real debates. That allowed millions of voters to take stock of the challenger, and the political process to finally hold the incumbent accountable.

Flaws

Flaws

Updated 01:59am (Mla time) Oct 17, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 17, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


FOUR days ago, the Singapore Straits Times picked up on the controversy involving errors in Philippine textbooks. Rather gleefully, it treated Singaporeans and other foreign readers to a catalogue of errors in a textbook, and a summary of the fight between the man who exposed those errors and our Department of Education. A fight, in true Philippine style, complete with full-page ads and recriminations, followed by a stubborn refusal to act -- and an equally typical announcement that reforms would be initiated by the DepEd.

Now that the DepEd has decided to do something about our error-filled textbooks, the country can move beyond the acrimony between the department and Antonio Calipjo Go. With the common objective now clear to everybody -- to correct mistakes in textbooks and tighten up the procedures that allowed the approval of substandard textbooks and their entry into our education system -- the question is: On whose lap should the responsibility for reforms fall?

It is a fact that the primary responsibility for the scandalous approval of flawed textbooks lies with the DepEd. Equal responsibility lies with the publishers of these textbooks and those hired to prepare them. But the teachers and parents are as much responsible.

Textbooks with wrong and misleading information are not only an indictment of the sloppy, irresponsible work -- which verge on the criminal -- and plain stupidity of people in the DepEd; they are also an indictment of the publishers who commission incompetent people to write textbooks, and then peddle these books to the DepEd and the schools.

Indicted, too, are the schools that accepted such books and foisted them on their students. Of these schools -- and there certainly have been quite a number -- that accepted such books, the public indeed has a right to ask: How on earth did these schools come to accept such books as fit for students? But blame should also go to parents, who didn't seem to have taken the time to look into what their children were being taught.


And remedies

AS THE government goes ahead in purging the textbook system of corruption and plain stupidity, a call must be made for all sectors to do their part.

Publishers must be held answerable for the content of the books they print and sell for educational purposes. Officials must be personally held responsible for the factual correctness of what they approve. Schools, too, must be held accountable, if not by the government, then by the parents, for what they require their students to buy and read. Teachers must institute ways for errors to be rectified and reported; and for receiving, handling and addressing complaints about instructional materials. And parents must not shirk their responsibility to supervise the education of their children. Too many sectors have been willing to pass on responsibility to the state, when what keeps the state responsible is the vigilance of its citizens.

The academic communities, too, may have been remiss or simply ignored. Professional academic associations are aplenty and they could have done their part in the issuance of a seal of approval for textbooks that cover their areas of expertise. At the very least, amid the pressing public call for a thorough review of schoolbooks, the door should be opened for them to step in and help out.

Finally, as we go about instituting the needed reforms, it may serve well to ask: In a time of economic hardship and dwindling resources, must so many different kinds of textbooks be published? And must every student have to purchase a brand new book?

In the past, Filipino students were issued a book at the start of the school year, which they had to return at the end of that same school year, to be passed on to the next class. This is the practice in many countries far richer than ours. Generations of Filipinos received a good education through the use of standardized books, such as the Osias readers. In the process of being issued and having to return a book, they saved money and learned to be responsible stewards of books.

In the effort to deliver basic information, we wonder if having a flood of different textbooks isn't tantamount to squandering resources: financial, intellectual, and even moral.

Fatal addiction

Fatal addiction

Updated 01:00am (Mla time) Oct 16, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 16, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


TO GET a vivid picture of life in these parts, imagine the multimillion-peso cash deposits in the names of Major General Carlos Garcia, his wife and their three sons, their fleet of vehicles, as well as property in the United States, including a condominium unit in New York and a house in Ohio. Then imagine a couple straining to maneuver a pushcart through the traffic, their bodies gaunt, their clothing tattered, the pushcart, actually their home, loaded with a passel of grimy children and what amount to their worldly goods. Think of the shopping expeditions of Garcia's wife (apparently a regular, many-splendored exercise, else what are the five drivers for?), then consider the painstakingly methodical sweep that scavengers perform on the daily haul of garbage to be able to eat.

The act of imagining is supremely easy to do, the ways of the new rich being on tawdry display through their many mansions, and the ways of the impoverished being a sad, sullen part of the daily panorama. The polarity is nothing new, in fact ever present, a veritable part of the warp and woof of the Philippine social fabric -- but now much sharper, more cutting.

The revelations coming fast and furious on the lifestyles of the rich in the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) are made more infuriating in light of official findings on the hunger assaulting a great number of Filipino households, to speak nothing of the alarming state of the economy. The "gifts" and "gratitude money" coming Garcia's way in the course of his performing his former functions as AFP comptroller, as so candidly disclosed by his wife Clarita to US customs authorities, give the lie to President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s administration's declared stance against corruption, and make of it a shallow, even laughable pretense. And the continuing horse opera of the congressional inquiry on corruption in the military, specifically the unexplained wealth of the two-star general who can't even be compelled to show up, hardly promises a solution.

No, it does not seem like the problem will see resolution in the near future. The "fatal addiction" to money that ex-military rebel Rex Robles talked about while disclosing the allegedly widespread corruption in the military appears as intense as ever, if one is to go by Garcia's case. It's probably true what they say -- that some people just can't have enough of the good stuff once it's there. The addiction is complete and overwhelming. According to the conventional wisdom governing this addiction, there's no sense in turning off the tap when the goodness insists on overflowing. Two, three houses? How trifling. Get a condominium at the Trump Park Avenue. Forty bank accounts? That's only in the Philippines. A stash of $100,000? Only part of what Clarita Garcia said was cash received "for travel and expenses from businesses that are awarded contracts for military hardware."


But no solo trip

BUT for all that (including the astoundingly hick attempt of the Garcia boys to smuggle a huge amount of dollars into the United States in 10 envelopes stuffed in their shoes and their jacket pockets, as though they had never heard of money transfers), observers attentive to the ways of addiction would point out that this general could not have been acting alone. It could not have been a solo trip.

In the course of enrichment, it is only logical for the wise receiver of "gratitude money" to include others on the take, whether superior or subordinate, the better to make the "process" more efficient, preclude discovery, and ensure silence where silence counts.

In which case, Garcia may be of significant value. While recovering from his suddenly serious ailments and sleepless nights, he may be persuaded to talk about the apparent systemic malady in the AFP, the iceberg of which his case is said to constitute only the tip. (Imagine how far-reaching it goes. Again, imagining would not be too difficult to do, certain mansions in such elite enclaves as the Corinthian Gardens and Ayala Alabang subdivisions being such dead giveaways.)

Justice denied

Justice denied

Updated 00:24am (Mla time) Oct 15, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 15, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


PITY Evelio Javier. Not only was justice for him delayed, it was also denied. Arturo Pacificador walked off a free man last Tuesday when the Antique Regional Trial Court cleared him of the brutal murder of the anti-Marcos governor in 1986. While the court convicted and sentenced several persons associated with Pacificador for the killing, it found no evidence beyond reasonable doubt to convict and sentence the former assemblyman and close associate of Ferdinand Marcos. It's as if the henchmen who ambushed Javier and slew him in broad daylight had no mastermind, no governing intelligence. It was as if the guns went and finished off Javier on their own.

While the court stacked every doubt against Pacificador's involvement, it didn't seem to find it bothersome to convict the triggermen and even Pacificador's own lawyer, Avelino Javellana. How reasonable doubt was constituted and interpreted in this case only the Antique court knew. To the court, there must be something about doubt that reason finds credible, too credible.

The Javier family and the Antique folk have understandably reacted with shock and anger at the decision. Particularly for those who witnessed Javier being mercilessly gunned down and his friends shot at and injured in broad daylight right at the provincial capitol grounds, the decision must have looked like another ambush, another naked exercise in state violence and terrorism.

But this time the state violence has been perpetrated by the justice system. The judiciary may protest that it is independent of the executive and the legislature, which are otherwise vested with the state powers of force and compulsion, and thus, it does not have the instruments of aggression. But in rendering an incomprehensible decision that lets off the hook somebody who appears for all intents and purposes-and all rigor of logic-as the mastermind, the judiciary has melded with the state and employed the instrument of justice to deny justice, nay, even slay justice.

Without justice

AN INSTRUCTION on the judiciary's tendency to connive with state violence, wittingly or unwittingly, is the murder of Arbet Santa Ana-Yongco, the lawyer privately prosecuting the case against cult leader Ruben Ecleo for the murder of his wife, Alona Bacolod-Ecleo. Yongco's death-so dastardly, so needless-seems destined to follow the trail of unsolved murders in connection with Ecleo, who seems to enjoy the benefit of the doubt as far as the judiciary is concerned.

When his wife's body was found murdered in Dalaguete town in the province of Cebu, circumstances pointed to Ecleo, who hadn't reported that his wife was missing. You would think that the law would run after Ecleo, but no, he was only arrested and arraigned after the media exposed the reluctance of authorities to indict him. And he was captured not before members of his cult had killed several arresting officers.

In jail, Ecleo received special treatment from his jailers; he was even allowed to co-habit with his girlfriend. Meanwhile, a cult member massacred the entire family of his murdered spouse. Even then, the court released Ecleo for "humanitarian" reasons.

When a cult member confessed to having killed Bacolod-Ecleo, the judge was quick to accept the uncorroborated confession. Even suspiciously, it was discovered that the judge had rendered the decision right after he had been relieved by the Supreme Court for rendering questionable decisions before.

From the looks of it, the Bacolod-Ecleo case has been botched many times over, rendering remote that justice would ever be served any time soon. It seems fated to go the way of the Javier case, which was 18 years in the making.

If one considers that it took nearly 10 years for the Javier case to reach the first phase -- the arraignment of the suspects -- simply because Pacificador had done a Houdini, and that it took nearly another 10 years for the regional trial court to rule, then, indeed, justice is excruciatingly slow in the Philippines. It takes nearly a generation for a court to make a first determination, and by then, the next generation might have no memory regarding what the fuss was all about in the first place.

Historical memory is such a pitiful commodity in the Philippines; it is as scarce and pitiful as justice. In a way, the Javier case shows that memory and justice are inextricably linked. Without justice, there would be no memory; and without memory, there would be no drive for justice. The Philippines seems fated to go both ways -- without memory, without justice.

Weakness

Weakness

Updated 04:16am (Mla time) Oct 14, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the September 30, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


THE STRONGEST argument against the proposed grant of amnesty to the Magdalo group of young officers and soldiers behind the failed mutiny in July 2003 is the bare-faced impunity with which Gregorio Honasan, his comrades and his patrons attempted again and again to grab power from President Corazon Aquino, unleashing mayhem and destruction to the tune of billions of pesos. The kid-glove treatment early on accorded the rebel soldiers by an administration that, although triumphant in its becoming, was trapped in an uneasy partnership with a military unaccustomed to civilian leadership, served not only to coddle their petulance but also to display weakness. And as any student of psychology would know, weakness-or even the perception of it-is a no-no in statecraft.

But the way it looks, there's a big chance the Magdalo boys would be granted amnesty after the court martial is over and done with. The Palace insists that the six leaders of the failed mutiny did not seek concessions or special treatment in exchange for making a public apology to their commander in chief, but it is also saying that the hearings will be "expedited." The public can take that to mean the hearings would be pushed, or speeded up (a context quaintly Filipino, of a piece with such time-honored practices as “lagay” [bribe]). At any rate, Defense Secretary Avelino Cruz-in whose office the six officers met last week with the woman whom one of them once described as "yakking and yakking"-is preparing to study the possibility of amnesty. Here we go again.

It's quite easy to see why the idea of amnesty for the Magdalo boys appeals to certain sectors. If their leaders are halfway representative of them, they're young, articulate and had a good academic record. And despite the possible antipathy that two or three of the leaders may have generated from the viewing public during their televised takeover of the Oakwood Premier serviced apartments in Makati City, the grievances they aired -- corruption in the military, for one, the sort that allegedly allows soldiers to go to combat with inadequate gear while generals wallow in luxury -- struck resonance in the hearts and minds of many.

Yet for all that, for the wistful sentiment among many that despite the group's unacceptable mode of action, a substantial change would somehow result in life in these parts, it clearly broke the chain of command and challenged the state-and is, therefore, legally liable for punishment. A strong state would not have hesitated to seize the moment and impose a punishment exacting and swift. But, as has been pointed out, the moment is long past for a lesson to be unequivocally imposed.

The mutineers languished behind bars for more than a year, their youth sapped by inactivity and the uncertainty of their future. It was fertile ground for a compromise, although both parties deny that any such thing occurred. Still, in these parts where authorities seem to talk from both sides of their mouths and the administration has lost credibility (through no fault but its own, announcing one thing and blithely doing another as though it had no shred of respect for honor, let alone memory), it is clear what the public will believe.

Strength

GRANTING that quid pro quo governed the Magdalo leaders' apology to President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, and granting that the grant of amnesty was part of it, the attentive observer is left to wonder what the government would be holding as the prize. Perhaps the names of the mastermind(s) of the adventure that again brought a black eye to the Philippines' image abroad and discouraged precious investors from even setting foot on our shores?

It's only fair that the government get something out of a possible amnesty and reinstatement of the mutineers. After all, it's not unreasonable for, say, important and decisive evidence to be turned over by a criminal before the government allows him or her to become a state witness. This is the way of the exchange; there is no room for a vacuum on either side.

But that's granting there is room for a fair exchange, or that the Arroyo administration has the capability in this case to bargain from a position of strength. Is this at all possible in these parts where the military, ever the old boys' club, appears to be still calling the shots, the way it did during the Ferdinand Marcos regime?

About-face

About-face

Updated 03:22am (Mla time) Oct 14, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the October 14, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


BETTER late than never. The decision of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) finally to court martial Major General Carlos F. Garcia for fraud against the government and conduct unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman is a welcome one. There is still some wiggle room left for the AFP, however, as its spokesman has mentioned the possibility that Garcia's scheduled retirement on Nov. 18 would make him a civilian, putting him beyond the jurisdiction of military justice.

While we welcome the AFP's decision to try Garcia, we question why it took so long for authorities to decide to place him on the Bureau of Immigration’s hold-departure list. This is particularly puzzling since Garcia is believed to hold a green card, or permanent US residency status, and his sons are studying in the United States, not to mention the property he and his family own overseas and their bulging foreign bank accounts. Hold-departure orders are routinely issued in many other cases, and it would seem sensible to consider Garcia a high risk for flight. While the Bureau of Immigration says US authorities deny that Garcia has a green card, that wouldn't have prevented Garcia from claiming he had one and thus escaping from the country.

For now, as the net tightens around Garcia, it might be a good idea to post guards at the door of Garcia's suite in the University of Santo Tomas hospital. The military already seemed surprised that he wasn't in the Camp Aguinaldo general headquarters when it ordered him confined to quarters pending court martial. And while he certainly cannot be accused of undue extravagance in deciding to stay in that particular hospital, we wonder why he is only now being confined for apnea and why he didn't decide to stay at the Veterans Medical Center. Sleep apnea is an increasingly common yet curious ailment that seems to afflict the criminally charged (recall that former congressman Mark Jimenez claimed to suffer from it), and may simply be a way of justifying the isolation of a person from prying eyes.

Indeed, Garcia has made himself very scarce to the point of avoiding even the chance to confront his accusers or give his side regarding the very serious accusations leveled against him. His avoidance has included refusing to honor an invitation from Congress, which is ironic considering that Garcia surely remembers the time when military "invitations" were something no one could refuse. He has displayed what he perhaps views as a withering contempt for the accusations against him, although other things could be said of his not wanting to say anything in his own defense. While silence as an admission of guilt is only for the sensationally inclined, we do wonder why he hasn't bothered to speak out in his own defense.

In response to Garcia's silence, every Tom, Dick and congressman (and senator, too), in our typically loquacious republic, has decided to do the speaking -- and media hogging. Everyone and anyone, it seems, is now in the know when it comes to the Garcia case. Somewhere down the line, some busybody is going to speak out of turn and leak something damaging to the case. Talk is now so fast and free that the politicians have even raised the bogey of coup attempts as the military's response to Garcia's prosecution.

Raising the specter of military adventurism as a response to Garcia being charged is reckless and imprudent behavior. It is reckless because it adds political color to a case that every right-minded Filipino, regardless of political leanings, should be concerned about. It is imprudent because it insults the military. Everyone knows there is corruption in the officer corps (and surely within the ranks of enlisted men and women, too), but to say the military is poised to lash out because a general has been charged with crimes paints the entire AFP as solely concerned with guarding the fruits of some officers' corruption.

Who would move to try to topple the state in defense of a general accused of corruption? Other generals in danger of being charged with the same thing? And would this mean all generals, and below them, other officers and their troops, who might presumably be nervous due to their complicity in corruption?

This is too much. Even if officers were foolhardy enough to try to cause trouble, no one would follow them. This is the worst time to try anything: The military has no moral ascendancy at this time. It can't even pretend to have any at this point.

Bad faith

Bad faith

Updated 02:13am (Mla time) Oct 13, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 13, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


IN MANDALUYONG City, public land in the City Hall complex was donated so that the National Shrine of the Divine Mercy, a Catholic church, could be built. This was a clear contravention of the principle of the separation of Church and State, but no one complained.

Malacañang has both a Catholic chapel and a mosque, and no one is complaining.

What the government does, private developers routinely do. Many of the large malls in Metro Manila have Catholic chapels, even parishes, within their premises, and also have Masses celebrated in public areas. In the case of some developers, while having Catholic chapels and prayer rooms may be an offshoot of their own faith, in most cases it is a response to the wants of their customers. No one has questioned setting aside space for Catholic chapels, in part because the malls are private property, but also because the customers of these malls like it.

The developers of the Greenhills Shopping Center are responding to a need from non-Catholics in exactly the same way. The need has arisen from a growing number of Muslims who work there as merchants and traders and who have a problem of what to do when they break for prayer five times a day. For a time, the Muslims took it upon themselves to pray in a dark and smelly alleyway. It was inevitable that eventually they would grow sick and tired of having music blaring and crowds passing from neighboring shops staring at them while they kneeled and prayed.

Back in July, a magazine first broke the news that a mosque was being planned at the Greenhills Shopping Center. In recent weeks, the proposal to build a place for Muslims to worship in Greenhills has developed into an issue of property and community rights. It has taken on dangerous and reprehensible overtones of religious intolerance and cultural insensitivity.

The people objecting to a Muslim prayer room did not object when a chapel was built in the same shopping center. Now they object to the idea of putting up a special room for Muslims to pray. The basis for their objections is security. They suspect that Muslims, whether Filipino or not, are troublemakers, potential terrorists, untrustworthy people, thieves -- and the list goes on and on. They argue that as transients, that is, non-residents of Greenhills, the Muslims do not deserve a special place for prayer, because such a place might become a center for the teaching of radical Islam. Also, such a center might actually entice Muslims to live in Greenhills.

We repeat that such arguments and comments are reprehensible. They not only smack of intolerance and insensitivity, but are even dangerous. A shopping center is by its nature a place for transients, which is why Catholic chapels are built in them and Masses are said there. If transient Catholics deserve a place to worship or to hear Mass, so does any sizeable community of transients.

The question of security is one that must be addressed both by the developer and the state, but in a manner that does not impinge on two basic constitutional rights: the freedom to worship, and the freedom of abode. The fears of those who are opposing a Greenhills prayer center for Muslims are based on the refusal to tolerate the exercise of a particular religion, and stem from the benighted notion that a community has the right of to exclude others on the basis of faith or culture.

While attempts have been made to color opposition to a Muslim prayer center as being the will of the people, there are Greenhills residents who don't approve of it. They call such opposition bigoted and consider it conducive to violence due to the "us versus them" rhetoric and Christian supremacist attitude of those who are leading such opposition.

Although some residents opposing the Muslim prayer room have tried to get him on their side, San Juan Mayor JV Ejercito has, to his credit, made some very sensible -- and sensitive -- public statements on the issue. "Some Greenhills residents may consider the issue involved to be merely economic and the preservation of their way of life," he said. "However, to the Muslims, this denial of a place of worship is a religious issue."

Ejercito might have added that opposition to a prayer center for Muslims on the basis of protecting "a way of life" calls into question the validity of defending something so outrageously racist, bigoted and prejudiced. All communities, in the end, must adapt or perish.

Unmasking the Armed Forces

Unmasking the Armed Forces

Updated 10:54pm (Mla time) Oct 11, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A10 of the October 12, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


SOME of the former colleagues of retired Commodore Rex Robles have told him to shut up and stop talking about graft cases involving military men. It was Robles who first provided more details about graft in the military when he disclosed last week that US authorities were investigating two generals and three Cabinet-level officials for supposedly maintaining huge bank accounts in the United States.

What are Robles' former colleagues and former classmates in the Philippine Military Academy afraid of? That the inquiry will go high up and affect the highest ranks of the Armed Forces of the Philippines? That it will demoralize the military? We say, Robles should continue talking about the cases that he knows of. We say, Robles' revelations should be the starting point of a thorough cleanup of the officer corps of the military.

If the generals and colonels and other ranking officers of the Armed Forces have nothing to hide, they should welcome a wide-ranging investigation of graft cases in the military. Instead of demoralizing the military, such an inquiry should boost the morale of the rank and file. Remember that one of the major complaints of the captains and lieutenants who staged the Oakwood Mutiny last year was that enlisted men were suffering because of graft in high places in the military.

We believe that if grafters in the military could be exposed, prosecuted and punished, that would set an example that would deter other officers who would commit graft at the expense of the lowly enlisted men. The foot soldiers who bear the brunt of the fighting would no longer have to go to the battlefield wearing shoes that easily wear out; or helmets that hardly give any protection against shrapnel; or substandard, supposedly bullet-proof jackets that are easily pierced by even the lowest-caliber bullets.

Instead of telling Robles to shut up, we should encourage him and others of his kind to keep on talking, to continue giving evidence of graft in the military so that a thorough, wide-ranging inquiry could be conducted. It's high time such an investigation was undertaken.

For a long time, since the martial law days of the dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos, the military was considered untouchable. It was as if it could do no wrong and was not subject to the same rules and laws as the rest of the people in government. President Marcos coddled the generals and colonels because he needed them to prop up his martial law regime. He gave them all sorts of perks and privileges, and they felt that they were the chosen ones in government and that they could do anything and not be called to account for their deeds.

Succeeding presidents -- from Corazon C. Aquino to Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo -- have handled the military with kid gloves. They believed that they should not court the ire of the generals because they could destabilize the government and pull off coups d'état. It's time the government abandoned this thinking and started going after the grafters in the military. Throw the grafters in the corps of officers in jail and watch morale rise in the rank and file of the Armed Forces of the Philippines.

The Feliciano Commission, which investigated the Oakwood Mutiny, said in its report that "grievances about graft and corruption in the military...provide a fertile ground for the recruitment of officers and men for military intervention and even the overthrow of government." The Arroyo administration would be depriving military adventurists of such fertile ground and would be promoting political stability if it would conduct a thorough purge of grafters in the Armed Forces.

Open house

Open house

Updated 00:24am (Mla time) Oct 11, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the October 11, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


WHAT game is it playing? In the last week of September, the Philippine International Air Terminals Co. hosted an open house of sorts at the controversial Terminal 3 of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport.

On Sept. 27 and 28, ambassadors and other members of the diplomatic corps were taken on a tour of the hundred-million-dollar facility, which is at the center of litigation in the Philippines and abroad. On Sept. 29, it was the turn of airline and travel agency representatives. And on Sept. 30, PIATCo rolled out the red carpet for Senators Edgardo Angara, Juan Ponce Enrile and Alfredo Lim.

The following week, however, the company turned back a high-level delegation from the Arroyo administration, which included the executive secretary, Eduardo Ermita; the transportation secretary, Leandro Mendoza; and the President's own spokesperson, press secretary Ignacio Bunye. The officials, in other words, were denied entry.

An angry Bunye waxed speculative. "They must be hiding something that they don't want us to see."

But Liwayway Vinzons-Chato, who represents PIATCo president Cheng Yong, was quick to reply. "NAIA Terminal 3 is a state-of-the-art, fully functional and modern international airport terminal." She then added: "What PIATCo is opposed to is an inspection by biased non-experts or government lawyers with no avowed purpose other than fault-finding in aid of the government's defense before the ICC and ICSID arbitration panels."

The former Bureau of International Revenue commissioner was referring to the arbitration case PIATCo filed with the International Chamber of Commerce and a similar case that Fraport, its German partner, filed with the International Center for Settlement of Investment Disputes. These cases were filed after the Supreme Court last year voided PIATCo's contract to build and operate NAIA 3.

Parse Chato's statement, however, and more questions are raised than answered. One issue at stake in the arbitration cases is the status of project completion: Is the new terminal fully operational? Government representatives have previously said that more millions of dollars are needed to complete the terminal. But completion is a question of fact. In PIATCo's view, the terminal is already fully operational. The company hosted the diplomats, the airline and travel agency representatives, and the senators the other week precisely to press this case.

Why deny some of the highest officials in the administration the same opportunity?

Another issue at stake is the proposed government buyout of PIATCo; the administration had offered to pay the contractor $350 million. But both PIATCo and Fraport, (which on paper owns 30 percent of the contractor), found the amount ridiculously low. At the ICSID, Fraport's brief is for the Philippine government to reimburse what it says is a $425 million investment.

An inspection of the facilities, even by "biased non-experts," would have been a great opportunity to impress upon the administration exactly where all that money went, to make it appreciate the company's valuation of the project's costs. Why did PIATCo refuse to present itself-and the terminal-in the best possible light?

The terminal is not only the subject of contention in the ongoing cases; it is also the principal evidence. The notion that one party to the cases cannot have even temporary access to the evidence is contrary to the requirements of both reason and the law. Will the government be forced to make its defense without the opportunity to inspect the terminal thoroughly?

But the most telling question Chato's statement raises-but does not answer-is even more fundamental. Does PIATCo think that it is beyond the reach of the law? The national government has oversight responsibility for all airports in the country. On the most basic level, the general manager of the Manila International Airport Authority has the power to inspect the terminal. But even though he was one of the officials who came visiting last week, the Malacañang delegation was still denied entry.

This is not only poor form, an outrage in a culture famous for its open arms. It is also a challenge to the long arm of the law.