The Long View: The North remembers

That was the title of a newspaper ad that appeared in the papers when Gov. Imee Marcos was scheduled for her showdown with Majority Leader Rodolfo Fariñas. Designed in the unique title font of the cable show “Game of Thrones,” it thanked the governor “for RA 7171 projects!” on behalf of “tobacco farmers, vegetable associations, Ilocos Norte zanjeras.” Predictably, the ad drove fans of the show crazy, but proved Governor Marcos’ shrewd ability to use pop culture for her purposes. Who can forget the video of her brother, dressed in Jedi Knight robes, waving around a lightsaber on the famous sand dunes of Paoay?

The Fariñas vs. Marcos showdown has engrossed political observers for months. The intricacies of Ilocos Norte provincial politics aside, something bigger was read into the conflict beyond it being merely the breakdown of the old division of territory between the two families: Laoag is supposed to be the Fariñas bailiwick while the province is the Marcos’.

That bigger thing was whether Rudy going after Imee had the blessings of the President or not. While the Majority Leader has always someone all administrations are keen to have on their side, he has become particularly essential at present, helping to smooth relations and crack the whip when required (which seems to be often considering the slender bonafides of the Speaker). This suggested to observers that Fariñas was in a position to act with relative impunity against the Marcoses, because the Palace needs him quite badly indeed. Another point of view suggested that the President’s enthusiasm for the Marcoses had waned, as he warmed to the job and stopped viewing his own presidency as a transitional one in place merely to pave the way for a Marcos restoration. There is no greater tonic for self-confidence than wielding the powers of the presidency. This view suggested that having discovered himself an essential man, the President would neither relinquish his office ahead of the expiration of his term, or be so imprudent as to actively promote the replacement of the current Vice President after he had quickly, and thoroughly, taken her measure and found her utterly non-threatening. Besides which, any political debt he owed to the Marcoses could be deemed paid off with the burial of the Great Dictator in the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

On the other hand, as Onofre Corpuz once observed in his Roots of the Filipino Nation, “[I]t is still a truism in modern-day Philippine politics that no President of the Republic gains anything by interfering in contests between provincial political ‘chieftains’.” Better to keep not just both sides guessing as to whose side he was on, but everyone else wondering what, exactly, might be up his sleeves—even if it might be nothing. Perception is King, and keeping everyone guessing is as good a way to prop up the throne as any.

For a time it seemed Fariñas, too, had taken the measure of the Marcoses and found them weak. The zeal—and zest—with which he made his case, corralled low-ranking provincial bureaucrats, conducted hearings with the requisite combination of verbal fireworks and skillful use of subpoenas and detention orders for contempt, and had the Speaker and his fellow representatives tag-teaming to take on all comers, whether in the form of possible relief in the courts (hence the Speaker’s fight with the Court of Appeals) or at the hands of the Marcoses (hence the threat to declare her in contempt if she not only failed to appear at the House proceedings, but refused to answer the committee’s questions), all these were signs of a man on the up-and-up, doing victory laps.

But he failed. Many wondered why, instead of say, Estelito Mendoza, Mother and Daughter Marcos brought Juan Ponce Enrile with them to the showdown in the House. You only have to remember the impeachment of Renato Corona and how Fariñas would genuflect, almost daily, before Enrile, to know that here was a man who, for whatever reason, the fearsome Fariñas held in awe. His presence was enough to put the Majority Leader on his best behavior; his strategic whisperings to the governor were enough to attribute the governor’s answers—so sorry, we meant well, do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of grateful men?—to his legal wisdom and deny Fariñas grounds to further detain the bureaucrats or continue tormenting Imee.

In the end, without a case, only face-saving rhetoric was left for Fariñas. The main point had been made: Marcoses do not lose. They do not undergo detention. They take on all comers. Their arsenal may be antique, but it works.

 

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Manuel L. Quezon III

The Long View: The North remembers

That was the title of a newspaper ad that appeared in the papers when Gov. Imee Marcos was scheduled for her showdown with Majority Leader Rodolfo Fariñas. Designed in the unique title font of the cable show “Game of Thrones,” it thanked the governor “for RA 7171 projects!” on behalf of “tobacco farmers, vegetable associations, Ilocos Norte zanjeras.” Predictably, the ad drove fans of the show crazy, but proved Governor Marcos’ shrewd ability to use pop culture for her purposes. Who can forget the video of her brother, dressed in Jedi Knight robes, waving around a lightsaber on the famous sand dunes of Paoay?

The Fariñas vs. Marcos showdown has engrossed political observers for months. The intricacies of Ilocos Norte provincial politics aside, something bigger was read into the conflict beyond it being merely the breakdown of the old division of territory between the two families: Laoag is supposed to be the Fariñas bailiwick while the province is the Marcos’.

That bigger thing was whether Rudy going after Imee had the blessings of the President or not. While the Majority Leader has always someone all administrations are keen to have on their side, he has become particularly essential at present, helping to smooth relations and crack the whip when required (which seems to be often considering the slender bonafides of the Speaker). This suggested to observers that Fariñas was in a position to act with relative impunity against the Marcoses, because the Palace needs him quite badly indeed. Another point of view suggested that the President’s enthusiasm for the Marcoses had waned, as he warmed to the job and stopped viewing his own presidency as a transitional one in place merely to pave the way for a Marcos restoration. There is no greater tonic for self-confidence than wielding the powers of the presidency. This view suggested that having discovered himself an essential man, the President would neither relinquish his office ahead of the expiration of his term, or be so imprudent as to actively promote the replacement of the current Vice President after he had quickly, and thoroughly, taken her measure and found her utterly non-threatening. Besides which, any political debt he owed to the Marcoses could be deemed paid off with the burial of the Great Dictator in the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

On the other hand, as Onofre Corpuz once observed in his Roots of the Filipino Nation, “[I]t is still a truism in modern-day Philippine politics that no President of the Republic gains anything by interfering in contests between provincial political ‘chieftains’.” Better to keep not just both sides guessing as to whose side he was on, but everyone else wondering what, exactly, might be up his sleeves—even if it might be nothing. Perception is King, and keeping everyone guessing is as good a way to prop up the throne as any.

For a time it seemed Fariñas, too, had taken the measure of the Marcoses and found them weak. The zeal—and zest—with which he made his case, corralled low-ranking provincial bureaucrats, conducted hearings with the requisite combination of verbal fireworks and skillful use of subpoenas and detention orders for contempt, and had the Speaker and his fellow representatives tag-teaming to take on all comers, whether in the form of possible relief in the courts (hence the Speaker’s fight with the Court of Appeals) or at the hands of the Marcoses (hence the threat to declare her in contempt if she not only failed to appear at the House proceedings, but refused to answer the committee’s questions), all these were signs of a man on the up-and-up, doing victory laps.

But he failed. Many wondered why, instead of say, Estelito Mendoza, Mother and Daughter Marcos brought Juan Ponce Enrile with them to the showdown in the House. You only have to remember the impeachment of Renato Corona and how Fariñas would genuflect, almost daily, before Enrile, to know that here was a man who, for whatever reason, the fearsome Fariñas held in awe. His presence was enough to put the Majority Leader on his best behavior; his strategic whisperings to the governor were enough to attribute the governor’s answers—so sorry, we meant well, do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of grateful men?—to his legal wisdom and deny Fariñas grounds to further detain the bureaucrats or continue tormenting Imee.

In the end, without a case, only face-saving rhetoric was left for Fariñas. The main point had been made: Marcoses do not lose. They do not undergo detention. They take on all comers. Their arsenal may be antique, but it works.

 

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Manuel L. Quezon III

The Long View: The North remembers

That was the title of a newspaper ad that appeared in the papers when Gov. Imee Marcos was scheduled for her showdown with Majority Leader Rodolfo Fariñas. Designed in the unique title font of the cable show “Game of Thrones,” it thanked the governor “for RA 7171 projects!” on behalf of “tobacco farmers, vegetable associations, Ilocos Norte zanjeras.” Predictably, the ad drove fans of the show crazy, but proved Governor Marcos’ shrewd ability to use pop culture for her purposes. Who can forget the video of her brother, dressed in Jedi Knight robes, waving around a lightsaber on the famous sand dunes of Paoay?

The Fariñas vs. Marcos showdown has engrossed political observers for months. The intricacies of Ilocos Norte provincial politics aside, something bigger was read into the conflict beyond it being merely the breakdown of the old division of territory between the two families: Laoag is supposed to be the Fariñas bailiwick while the province is the Marcos’.

That bigger thing was whether Rudy going after Imee had the blessings of the President or not. While the Majority Leader has always someone all administrations are keen to have on their side, he has become particularly essential at present, helping to smooth relations and crack the whip when required (which seems to be often considering the slender bonafides of the Speaker). This suggested to observers that Fariñas was in a position to act with relative impunity against the Marcoses, because the Palace needs him quite badly indeed. Another point of view suggested that the President’s enthusiasm for the Marcoses had waned, as he warmed to the job and stopped viewing his own presidency as a transitional one in place merely to pave the way for a Marcos restoration. There is no greater tonic for self-confidence than wielding the powers of the presidency. This view suggested that having discovered himself an essential man, the President would neither relinquish his office ahead of the expiration of his term, or be so imprudent as to actively promote the replacement of the current Vice President after he had quickly, and thoroughly, taken her measure and found her utterly non-threatening. Besides which, any political debt he owed to the Marcoses could be deemed paid off with the burial of the Great Dictator in the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

On the other hand, as Onofre Corpuz once observed in his Roots of the Filipino Nation, “[I]t is still a truism in modern-day Philippine politics that no President of the Republic gains anything by interfering in contests between provincial political ‘chieftains’.” Better to keep not just both sides guessing as to whose side he was on, but everyone else wondering what, exactly, might be up his sleeves—even if it might be nothing. Perception is King, and keeping everyone guessing is as good a way to prop up the throne as any.

For a time it seemed Fariñas, too, had taken the measure of the Marcoses and found them weak. The zeal—and zest—with which he made his case, corralled low-ranking provincial bureaucrats, conducted hearings with the requisite combination of verbal fireworks and skillful use of subpoenas and detention orders for contempt, and had the Speaker and his fellow representatives tag-teaming to take on all comers, whether in the form of possible relief in the courts (hence the Speaker’s fight with the Court of Appeals) or at the hands of the Marcoses (hence the threat to declare her in contempt if she not only failed to appear at the House proceedings, but refused to answer the committee’s questions), all these were signs of a man on the up-and-up, doing victory laps.

But he failed. Many wondered why, instead of say, Estelito Mendoza, Mother and Daughter Marcos brought Juan Ponce Enrile with them to the showdown in the House. You only have to remember the impeachment of Renato Corona and how Fariñas would genuflect, almost daily, before Enrile, to know that here was a man who, for whatever reason, the fearsome Fariñas held in awe. His presence was enough to put the Majority Leader on his best behavior; his strategic whisperings to the governor were enough to attribute the governor’s answers—so sorry, we meant well, do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of grateful men?—to his legal wisdom and deny Fariñas grounds to further detain the bureaucrats or continue tormenting Imee.

In the end, without a case, only face-saving rhetoric was left for Fariñas. The main point had been made: Marcoses do not lose. They do not undergo detention. They take on all comers. Their arsenal may be antique, but it works.

 

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Manuel L. Quezon III

The Long View: The North remembers

That was the title of a newspaper ad that appeared in the papers when Gov. Imee Marcos was scheduled for her showdown with Majority Leader Rodolfo Fariñas. Designed in the unique title font of the cable show “Game of Thrones,” it thanked the governor “for RA 7171 projects!” on behalf of “tobacco farmers, vegetable associations, Ilocos Norte zanjeras.” Predictably, the ad drove fans of the show crazy, but proved Governor Marcos’ shrewd ability to use pop culture for her purposes. Who can forget the video of her brother, dressed in Jedi Knight robes, waving around a lightsaber on the famous sand dunes of Paoay?

The Fariñas vs. Marcos showdown has engrossed political observers for months. The intricacies of Ilocos Norte provincial politics aside, something bigger was read into the conflict beyond it being merely the breakdown of the old division of territory between the two families: Laoag is supposed to be the Fariñas bailiwick while the province is the Marcos’.

That bigger thing was whether Rudy going after Imee had the blessings of the President or not. While the Majority Leader has always someone all administrations are keen to have on their side, he has become particularly essential at present, helping to smooth relations and crack the whip when required (which seems to be often considering the slender bonafides of the Speaker). This suggested to observers that Fariñas was in a position to act with relative impunity against the Marcoses, because the Palace needs him quite badly indeed. Another point of view suggested that the President’s enthusiasm for the Marcoses had waned, as he warmed to the job and stopped viewing his own presidency as a transitional one in place merely to pave the way for a Marcos restoration. There is no greater tonic for self-confidence than wielding the powers of the presidency. This view suggested that having discovered himself an essential man, the President would neither relinquish his office ahead of the expiration of his term, or be so imprudent as to actively promote the replacement of the current Vice President after he had quickly, and thoroughly, taken her measure and found her utterly non-threatening. Besides which, any political debt he owed to the Marcoses could be deemed paid off with the burial of the Great Dictator in the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

On the other hand, as Onofre Corpuz once observed in his Roots of the Filipino Nation, “[I]t is still a truism in modern-day Philippine politics that no President of the Republic gains anything by interfering in contests between provincial political ‘chieftains’.” Better to keep not just both sides guessing as to whose side he was on, but everyone else wondering what, exactly, might be up his sleeves—even if it might be nothing. Perception is King, and keeping everyone guessing is as good a way to prop up the throne as any.

For a time it seemed Fariñas, too, had taken the measure of the Marcoses and found them weak. The zeal—and zest—with which he made his case, corralled low-ranking provincial bureaucrats, conducted hearings with the requisite combination of verbal fireworks and skillful use of subpoenas and detention orders for contempt, and had the Speaker and his fellow representatives tag-teaming to take on all comers, whether in the form of possible relief in the courts (hence the Speaker’s fight with the Court of Appeals) or at the hands of the Marcoses (hence the threat to declare her in contempt if she not only failed to appear at the House proceedings, but refused to answer the committee’s questions), all these were signs of a man on the up-and-up, doing victory laps.

But he failed. Many wondered why, instead of say, Estelito Mendoza, Mother and Daughter Marcos brought Juan Ponce Enrile with them to the showdown in the House. You only have to remember the impeachment of Renato Corona and how Fariñas would genuflect, almost daily, before Enrile, to know that here was a man who, for whatever reason, the fearsome Fariñas held in awe. His presence was enough to put the Majority Leader on his best behavior; his strategic whisperings to the governor were enough to attribute the governor’s answers—so sorry, we meant well, do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of grateful men?—to his legal wisdom and deny Fariñas grounds to further detain the bureaucrats or continue tormenting Imee.

In the end, without a case, only face-saving rhetoric was left for Fariñas. The main point had been made: Marcoses do not lose. They do not undergo detention. They take on all comers. Their arsenal may be antique, but it works.

 

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Manuel L. Quezon III

With Due Respect: Who’s still afraid of martial law?

Even after the Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of Proclamation No. 216, the martial law (ML) edict, by a large majority (11-2-1-1); even after Congress, in joint session, extended it till the end of 2017 by a larger majority (261-18); and even after President Duterte, during his last State of the Nation Address (Sona), vowed no nationwide ML because he is “not stupid,” some people are still wary of it.

Marcos’ ML. They grimly recall the abuses and excesses of the ML instituted by Ferdinand Marcos in 1972.

They remember how he abruptly closed Congress and clothed himself with dictatorial powers, including lawmaking by presidential decrees and letters of instruction. And how he later forced the adoption of a new constitution in 1973 via an overwhelmed Constitutional Convention and a dubious raising of hands during barangay meetings, instead of a nationwide secret balloting.

On the day he proclaimed ML, Marcos caused the mass arrest and indefinite detention of his political enemies, the closure of newspapers, TV and radio networks (later allowing the operation only of those singing hosannas to his regime), and the deprivation of the rights to life, liberty and property without due process. Even the right to travel was restricted. Only a few favored ones were given “travel permits” to go abroad with a maximum of $200 for hotel and other expenses.

Mass actions, demonstrations and other forms of free speech were banned. Arrests and searches were indiscriminately conducted without judicial warrants. Judges were intimidated, defanged, or otherwise replaced with cronies and subalterns.

Duterte’s ML. In contrast, none of those has happened after President Duterte imposed martial rule and suspended the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus in Mindanao.

Congress, the local legislative assemblies and the courts are freely functioning. Even the local government unit in Marawi is open. No TV or radio station or newspaper has been forcibly closed.

No mass arrest and detention of political enemies has happened. The right to travel remains inviolable, except for Marawi residents who were forced to flee their homes due to the fierce fighting, not due to ML.

“[M]artial law does not suspend … the Constitution, neither does it supplant the operation of civil courts or legislative assemblies. Moreover … the Bill of Rights remain[s] in place … [and the suspension of the privilege] applies only to those judicially charged with rebellion” or invasion. (Lagman vs Medialdea, July 4, 2017)

Clearly, ML is not evil per se. If it were so, the 1987 Constitution should have abolished it instead of just restricting it. Indeed, it is a constitutional weapon against rebellion and invasion, when public safety requires its use.

Victory for Constitution. In a larger sense, what has happened and is still happening is a victory of our 1987 Constitution. It successfully removed the sting of the Marcos-style ML. Credit should also be given to the administrators of the Duterte–style ML, Defense Secretary Delfin Lorenzana and Armed Forces Chief of Staff Eduardo Año. They are conscious that history will ultimately judge them.

I think President Duterte is well aware of ML’s limitations. He has said more than once that if he wants to be a dictator, ML is no longer the way. To be that, all he needs is “to throw away that piece of paper called the Constitution” and to rely on the raw power of the military and the police. For indeed, when guns speak, laws are silent. Something, I think, he does not wish to happen.

Back to his Sona, the President explained that he turned to ML because it “is the fastest way to end the rebellion in Marawi and Mindanao.” If you ask me, he does not even need ML because, as Solicitor General Jose C. Calida told the Supreme Court, ML is just an “exclamation point.” It does not grant any new power (although the suspension of the privilege does).

But then, Rodrigo Duterte is the President. I am just a humble retired jurist. The discretion on whether to impose ML is solely his, not mine or anyone else’s. When done in accordance with the Constitution, the exercise of his sole discretion must be respected.

Comments to chiefjusticepanganiban@hotmail.com

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Artemio V. Panganiban

Public Lives: Duterte and the presidency

By now, people who have listened to President Duterte speak in public a couple of times may have learned to focus less on the information he “gives” than on the information he “gives off.” Not so much on the priorities of his administration, as on who the current objects of presidential ire are. Not so much on what he says as how he says it.

Some people can never get used to this style of public speaking. But, not his legion of admirers. They prefer authenticity over substance, and every speech of the President seems to affirm this for them. They like seeing him unbound and unchanged by the trappings of the presidency. To them, it is a comforting sign that he remains the individual that he is, the sole author of his actions — neither the aloof functionary of an anonymous entity called government, nor the tool of a despised oligarchy.

Mr. Duterte plays this role to the hilt. He manifests impatience and awkwardness, and, sometimes, even contempt, for the rituals that have become integral to the office of the President. The State of the Nation Address is a prime example of these rituals. Most presidents do their best to embrace the role assigned to them in these state functions. They try hard to sound and look as though they were not reading from a teleprompter, that they understand and mean every word they speak. Mr. Duterte is different. Indeed, he not only deviates from his prepared speech; he also seems to draw satisfaction from mocking the artifice behind the entire event.

At several points in his second Sona, Mr. Duterte tells the operator of the teleprompter to stop rolling the text because his eyes were getting tired. Prior to this, he is seen dutifully reading the text as though it were something he wanted to quickly get done with. With the official text in suspension, he pauses, takes a deep breath, and squarely faces his audience. Then, like the common folk who identify with him, he proceeds to “speak from the heart.”  As though on cue, the audience sits up to listen intently to the authentic voice of the man who occupies the highest office of the land.

This is the magic behind Mr. Duterte’s speaking style. Although he often speaks in a kind of drone, he is never boring. And, it is not merely because of his colorful language; it is also because of the unrestrained and raw quality of his casual speech.

The image he projects is that of someone who talks with authority not because of the office he occupies but because of the person that he is. The Arcade Dictionary of Word Origins explains the origin of the word “authentic” thus: “Etymologically, something that is authentic is something that has the authority of its original creator.”

Certainly, Mr. Duterte would be interesting to listen to any time. He is folksy, friendly, and funny; he loves to crack outrageous jokes, and never runs out of stories to make a point. His reputation as an endearing thug also precedes him. But, if he were not president, I doubt if he would be able to command the same attention that he does when he addresses the public from the high perch of his office.

The public has always looked up to the office of the President as a source of direction in uncertain times, a beacon for a nation in need of orientation. Perhaps, in a complex society, it no longer serves this purpose for a lot of people, in the same way that politics itself has lost much of the aura that used to shroud it in traditional society.  Nowadays, it is not uncommon to hear people speak of politics and of politicians in purely negative terms.

In many ways, the rise of antiestablishment leaders like President Duterte is symptomatic of these antipolitical times. They represent, to the common folk, the antithesis of the polished statesman, the technocrat, and the professional politician. Thrust into the nerve center of the state by the same electoral exercise they distrust, such leaders invariably find themselves hemmed in by the sheer power of the formative routines of the modern political system.

Their charisma and their willfulness notwithstanding, they soon realize they have no choice but to bow to the authority of the systems in place if they are to get anything done.  Much as they wish to skirt them, they could not ignore the existing hierarchies of decision-making and accountability to which officials in the lower echelons of government are in thrall. At every turn, leaders like Mr. Duterte are reminded of the imperatives of due process, of the rule of law, of the inviolability of the principle of separation of powers, of the autonomy of constitutional bodies, and the sanctity of contracts, etc.  They have so much power over the lives of their citizens, but they soon discover that the economy is not under their command, nor are the educational, religious, and communication systems of society.

I think that if we want to know where the Duterte administration is headed, we would learn more from carefully scrutinizing the text and subtext of the written Sona (portions of which the President skipped) and the proposed national budget that accompanies it, than from attempting to decipher the deep impulses behind Mr. Duterte’s fulminations.

Like every politician before him, President Duterte has promised radical change under his administration. His fiery rhetoric conveys this in no uncertain terms. But, I think, unless they are specifically named, those whose fortunes are massively affected by the twists and turns of government policy might learn to listen to these off-the-cuff presidential speeches more for amusement than for policy guidance. Having said that, I cannot presume to know how these speeches shape the consciousness of the ordinary folk.

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer By: Randy David public.lives@gmail.com

Speaker Alvarez threatens to dissolve Court of Appeals

Congress can at any time “dissolve” the Court of Appeals, Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez warned on Friday, insisting that the appellate court had no power to compel the House of Representatives to release the six Ilocos Norte officials in its custody.

“They are not even our co-equal branch… They are merely a creation of Congress—that Court of Appeals. They only exist because they were created by Congress. Any time, we can dissolve them. So they better start thinking,” he told a radio interview.

The leader of the House also threatened to disbar the three justices from the CA Special Fourth Division, Stephen Cruz, Edwin Sorongon and Nina Antonino-Valenzuela, for granting the habeas corpus petition of the six and issuing a release order allowing them to post bail.

He called them “gago” (idiot) in a text message to reporters on Wednesday. He added two more epithets: “bugok” (rotten) and “buwang” (crazy) in the early Friday interview on dzMM, a transcript of which was sent to House reporters by the Speaker’s office.

“For me, they have no jurisdiction over us. Who are they to dictate Congress what to do? We have rights that have been upheld by the Supreme Court a number of times,” Alvarez said.

“That’s really gross ignorance of the law. That is why I will not honor their order to [allow the six] to post bail. I will claim responsibility, let’s see, because they are too much,” he said.

The Court of Appeals, the second highest court of the land, was created with the passage of Commonwealth Act No. 3 in December 1935 in what was then supposed to be a transition from US rule to an independent Philippine government.

This week, the CA attempted three times to serve the order at the Batasang Pambansa but was prevented from doing so, on Alvarez’ directive.

The so-called “Ilocos Six” were held in contempt by the House good government and public accountability committee and later ordered detained by Alvarez for allegedly refusing to answer questions during an inquiry into the alleged irregular procurement of P66.45-million worth of vehicles by the provincial government.

Pedro Agcaoili, chair of the bids and awards committee and provincial planning and development officer; provincial budget officer Evangeline Tabulog; provincial treasurer Josephine Calajate; accountant Eden Battulayan, and treasury office staff Genedine Jambaro and Encarnacion Gaor, have been detained since May 29.

Alvarez said Antonino-Valenzuela was married to a former associate of Estelito Mendoza, the counsel of the Ilocos Six, and should have inhibited herself “out of delicadeza.”

He also said the discussion of the case should be restricted to its merits, and not the political feud between the Marcoses and Majority Leader Rodolfo Fariñas in Ilocos Norte.

It was Fariñas, a representative of the province’s first district, who first called for an inquiry into the alleged irregular purchases. He has pointed to Ilocos Norte Gov. Imee Marcos as being directly involved in the alleged anomaly.

Read more: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/906088/speaker-alvarez-threatens-to-dissolve-court-of-appeals#ixzz4kELfhhNp \

Editorial: Constitutional duty of Congress

Former solicitor general Florin Hilbay posted a suggestion on Twitter last Sunday: “Here’s an idea: 300 lawyers signing on to an SC petition to require Congress to comply with its constitutional duty to convene & deliberate.”

That the possibility of a mass petition like this is raised at all is a reflection of the startling position that Congress has taken in the wake of President Duterte’s declaration of martial law in Mindanao. House Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez and Senate President Aquilino Pimentel III quickly, as in less than 24 hours after the declaration of martial law, said that there was no need to jointly convene, deliberate and vote on Mr. Duterte’s action. They said a joint session would be necessary only when legislators disagreed with the declaration—the implication being that every single legislator was in support of it.

Was there a caucus to hear out individual voices, or to conduct even a straw vote on the matter? There was none.

On one of the last-resort actions of a president—so grave that the framers of the Constitution deliberately planted multiple safeguards around it to prevent its reckless use—the coequal branch of government mandated to perform the initial scrutiny of it just basically decided to roll over and play dead. So much for checks and balances, when the first line of defense against the possible abuse of martial law powers—an immediate review of its necessity by the elected representatives of the people—disintegrates at first blush with hardly a whimper. Sen. Tito Sotto perfectly exemplifies this earnest, simple-minded sense of surrender: “Why would they want a joint session when it is not necessary, not needed, not really called for?” he said.

Martial law in the whole of Mindanao, despite the fighting with the Maute extremists confined only in Marawi City for now, has triggered questions about the decision-making process that Mr. Duterte and his national security team employed in making the choice. The Maute attacks are clearly a case of terrorism, and less clearly the invasion or rebellion that the Constitution specified as the only two reasons for martial law to be imposed. The military has also repeatedly stated that the situation is under control: That was the assessment given by Armed Forces Chief of Staff Eduardo Año to Mr. Duterte in Moscow—only to be contradicted by Palace pronouncements that appear to paint a direr, more convoluted picture of the situation, such as the President conflating the conflict with his centerpiece war on drugs. It also turned out that Mr. Duterte was grossly misinformed about two alleged incidents the Palace had cited as triggers for the martial law declaration: The local chief of police who was supposedly beheaded by the terrorists turned out to be very much alive, and the news that a hospital was taken over by the terrorists has been proved false.

Congress is supposed to ask the hard questions and do due diligence in this regard, but why is it shirking its constitutional responsibility? Its response appears to have hardened Mr. Duterte some more; he has announced that he would ignore the Supreme Court, and that “until the police and the armed forces say the Philippines is safe, this martial law will continue.” And yet the Constitution says that the Supreme Court has the power to review the factual basis of the President’s decision “in an appropriate proceeding filed by any citizen,” and that “civilian authority is, at all times, supreme over the military.”

Former solicitor general Florin Hilbay posted a suggestion on Twitter last Sunday: “Here’s an idea: 300 lawyers signing on to an SC petition to require Congress to comply with its constitutional duty to convene & deliberate.”

That the possibility of a mass petition like this is raised at all is a reflection of the startling position that Congress has taken in the wake of President Duterte’s declaration of martial law in Mindanao. House Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez and Senate President Aquilino Pimentel III quickly, as in less than 24 hours after the declaration of martial law, said that there was no need to jointly convene, deliberate and vote on Mr. Duterte’s action. They said a joint session would be necessary only when legislators disagreed with the declaration—the implication being that every single legislator was in support of it.

Was there a caucus to hear out individual voices, or to conduct even a straw vote on the matter? There was none.

On one of the last-resort actions of a president—so grave that the framers of the Constitution deliberately planted multiple safeguards around it to prevent its reckless use—the coequal branch of government mandated to perform the initial scrutiny of it just basically decided to roll over and play dead. So much for checks and balances, when the first line of defense against the possible abuse of martial law powers—an immediate review of its necessity by the elected representatives of the people—disintegrates at first blush with hardly a whimper. Sen. Tito Sotto perfectly exemplifies this earnest, simple-minded sense of surrender: “Why would they want a joint session when it is not necessary, not needed, not really called for?” he said.

Martial law in the whole of Mindanao, despite the fighting with the Maute extremists confined only in Marawi City for now, has triggered questions about the decision-making process that Mr. Duterte and his national security team employed in making the choice. The Maute attacks are clearly a case of terrorism, and less clearly the invasion or rebellion that the Constitution specified as the only two reasons for martial law to be imposed. The military has also repeatedly stated that the situation is under control: That was the assessment given by Armed Forces Chief of Staff Eduardo Año to Mr. Duterte in Moscow—only to be contradicted by Palace pronouncements that appear to paint a direr, more convoluted picture of the situation, such as the President conflating the conflict with his centerpiece war on drugs. It also turned out that Mr. Duterte was grossly misinformed about two alleged incidents the Palace had cited as triggers for the martial law declaration: The local chief of police who was supposedly beheaded by the terrorists turned out to be very much alive, and the news that a hospital was taken over by the terrorists has been proved false.

Congress is supposed to ask the hard questions and do due diligence in this regard, but why is it shirking its constitutional responsibility? Its response appears to have hardened Mr. Duterte some more; he has announced that he would ignore the Supreme Court, and that “until the police and the armed forces say the Philippines is safe, this martial law will continue.” And yet the Constitution says that the Supreme Court has the power to review the factual basis of the President’s decision “in an appropriate proceeding filed by any citizen,” and that “civilian authority is, at all times, supreme over the military.”

For good measure, Mr. Duterte did also mention Congress as among those he would ignore. But he needn’t have bothered as Congress appears intent on making itself irrelevant. (At this writing, however, it seems to have bestirred itself and is making the necessary noises.) In Marcos’ martial law, Congress was padlocked. This time, is Congress padlocking itself?

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer

SISYPHUS’ LAMENT: 10 things Duterte can’t do with martial law

By: Oscar Franklin Tan  - Philippine Daily Inquirer

Is what you are supporting or protesting actually martial law?

In martial law, our military temporarily governs a hostile area civilian leaders cannot. It goes far beyond troops and checkpoints—the president may deploy these anytime.

If rebels took over Marawi City and the mayor fled, a general may replace him. President Ferdinand Marcos governed the entire country as commander in chief by virtue of General Order No. 1 (1972).

Ex parte Milligan (US Supreme Court, 1866) rejected this extreme definition: “when war exists… (a commander may) substitute military force for and to the exclusion of the laws, and punish all persons as he thinks right and proper.” Such “destroys every guarantee of the Constitution.”

Similarly, we added many protections after Marcos:

1. Rebellion. Our 1987 Constitution allows martial law only “In case of invasion or rebellion, when the public safety requires it.” The Maute Group raised IS (Islamic State) flags in Marawi City. The constitutional law gods—former dean Pacifico Agabin and retired justice Vicente V. Mendoza—accept that rebels tried to take our territory to form a new state.

2. Actual rebellion. But Milligan and our 2000 Zamora case require actual rebellion, not just threat. Thus, former president Fidel V. Ramos argues it should be limited to parts of Mindanao. Sen. Franklin Drilon opposes expanding it to the Visayas or Luzon.

3. 60 days only. Martial law now lasts 60 days only, extendable by Congress.

4. Congress open. The Constitution bars “supplant(ing) the functioning of the civil courts or legislative assemblies.” No padlocking the Senate.

5. Courts open. Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno ordered courts to stay open. Military tribunals may not try civilians where courts function, unlike in 1973, in the case of Sen. Benigno Aquino Jr.

6. No seizures. Based on the 2006 Randy David case, only Congress may order “taking over of privately owned public utility.”

7. Rights stay. The Constitution is clear: “A state of martial law does not suspend the operation of the Constitution.” Free speech and all rights stay. But you cannot make bomb jokes at airports even without martial law, so do not post troop movements on Facebook.

8. No warrantless arrests, searches. Senior Associate Justice Antonio Carpio stressed that martial law in Maguindanao in 2009 (2012 Fortun case) did not allow warrantless arrests, citing the 1988 Aberca vs Ver case.

But when the “privilege of the writ of habeas corpus” is suspended, one cannot question detention for a rebellion case. The government must file charges in court in three days or release you. You may post bail.

In a Department of Defense memo dated May 24, implicitly citing the Constitution, martial law likewise does not allow warrantless searches. But the Supreme Court allows exceptions to getting warrants even without martial law, such as when a crime is in progress.

9. No replacing local government. The president controls the entire national government but only has “supervision” over local governments. Arguably, he cannot replace local officials where they still function, undermining one’s right to elect leaders.

The Constitution allows courts to nullify “grave abuse of discretion,” arguably, like replacing the governor of Batanes after a Marawi siege.

10. Civilian supremacy. The Constitution commands: “Civilian authority is, at all times, supreme over the military. The Armed Forces… is the protector of the people.”

So does martial law today grant any power beyond governing a hostile area? No—as the Constitution’s framers intended.

Shake off the great psychological impact of martial law. Everything you supported or protested last week is not martial law. The extraordinary power was declared but not yet used—which happened in the Fortun case. Not even the mayor of Marawi City was replaced. No one is detained for rebellion.

So are you supporting or protesting something within the president’s normal powers, not even subject to the 60-day limit? Or something unconstitutional even with martial law, meaning you are fighting the wrong fight?

NEWSSTAND: Why does the President misremember his oath?

By: John Nery - @jnery_newsstand   Philippine Daily Inquirer

When President Duterte arrived from Moscow, a day after he imposed martial law on all of Mindanao, he gave a speech explaining the rationale for his exercise of extraordinary power and then conducted a news conference. In response to a question about the rules of engagement now in place in Mindanao, he gave an extended answer, which included the following statement:

“You know, I have always maintained that my duty, my sacred duty to preserve and defend the Filipino, does not emanate from any constitutional restriction.”

“It is in my oath of office. I beg to disagree with anyone. In this oath of office which I promised to God and to the people that I will protect and defend the country.”

(I am using the official transcript provided by the Presidential Communications Operations Office.)

I thought the President’s recollection of his oath was curious, to say the least. The oath of office is provided, word for word, in Article VII of the Constitution:

“Section 5. Before they enter on the execution of their office, the President, the Vice-President, or the Acting President shall take the following oath or affirmation:

“‘I do solemnly swear [or affirm] that I will faithfully and conscientiously fulfill my duties as President [or Vice-President or Acting President] of the Philippines, preserve and defend its Constitution, execute its laws, do justice to every man, and consecrate myself to the service of the Nation. So help me God.’ [In case of affirmation, last sentence will be omitted].”

This is the same formulation of the oath as it was first provided in the 1935 Constitution (and copied in the 1973 Constitution). The framers of the 1987 Constitution deliberately used it to invoke tradition and recall history. As for the hallowed phrase “preserve and defend,” it is used to refer to the Constitution itself.

But President Duterte’s impromptu remarks suggest that he remembers his oath differently: At first he talks about his duty to “preserve and defend the Filipino,” and then later talks about his duty to “protect and defend the country.”  Throughout his entire extended answer, the President did not in fact reference the need to “preserve and defend” the Constitution. Indeed, he asserted that his “sacred duty … does not emanate from any constitutional restriction.”

This is a worrying choice of words, especially in the dimming light of his pronouncements after that news conference. He is expressly pledged to “preserve and defend the Constitution,” but since then he has promised not to follow any ruling from the Supreme Court or any vote by Congress regarding his declaration of martial law; he has encouraged the soldiers doing the fighting against the Abu Sayyaf and the Maute Group (the terrorist groups trying to catch the attention of a terror network better called the Daesh) by telling them they can arrest anyone without warrant or rape as many as three women (each?), if they want. I realize that last encouragement was said as a sick joke, but we need to ask ourselves: Why is the person charged with the sacred duty to preserve and defend the Constitution the first to encourage an assault on the Bill of Rights?

To be sure, in the prepared remarks he read at the airport, the President did reference respect for the Constitution: “It is our Constitutional mandate to enforce the law and provide security. It is our Constitutional duty to ensure that every family, every community, all Filipinos, are assured to live in peace and harmony.” The speech he read at the Philippine Military Academy graduation last March also called on the country’s new military officers to pledge loyalty “to the flag and the Constitution.”

It is when he goes off-script that he gives short shrift to the Constitution. Why is that?

Let’s accept the first premise of his (implied) argument for martial law: He is called to fulfill his oath of office. But his oath requires him to serve the nation, to do justice to every man, to execute the laws, and (this duty takes pride of place) to preserve and defend the Constitution. That means respecting the role Court and Congress must perform, not corrupting the military as “the protector of the people and the State,” and exhorting everyone to follow the law. He is not supposed to break it.

Get Real : How can Marcos’ martial law be ‘good’?

By: Solita Collas-Monsod - @inquirerdotnet

Philippine Daily Inquirer

Reader, there have been so many discussions in the print and broadcast media about the pros and cons of imposing martial law in Mindanao, especially the legal and constitutional aspects.  I leave it to the lawyers to discuss these, but I do have an opinion on related matters to share with you, not necessarily in the order of importance.

First, on whether martial law is the answer:

1. I beg to differ with President Duterte’s assessment that martial law under the dictator Ferdinand Marcos was “good”. The economy collapsed, crime went up, real wages went down, corruption became world-class, extrajudicial killings were at their highest (until this administration). Not to mention torture and disappearances. If that is good, I don’t know what bad is.
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2. Marcos’ martial law failed to address the peace and order problems that were the articulated reasons for its declaration—as evidenced by the fact that the communist and the Moro problems are still with us today. On this basis alone, how can Marcos’ martial law be considered “good”?
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3. Mr. Duterte says his martial law will be harsh. But the 1987 Constitution has safeguards against martial law, because we learned from the Marcos experience. That means Marcos’ martial law was measurably harsher. And it did not succeed.
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Next, let’s tackle the question of whether the Islamic State threat is real (the reason President Duterte hurried back—to save the Filipino people from this threat).

1. There can be no doubt that the threat is real. Maria Ressa, who has written two books on terrorism—“Seeds of Terror: An Eyewitness Account of Al-Qaeda’s Newest Center of Operations in Southeast Asia” in 2003 and “From Bin Laden to Facebook” in 2013—has been pointing out the Filipino connections to the terrorist networks and hoisting the red danger flags for years.
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2. Then there is the Philippine Institute for Peace, Violence and Terrorism Research, with Dr. Rommel Banlaoi as executive director and former chief superintendent and top intelligence officer Rodolfo “Boogie” Mendoza as president, who also have been pointing at the dangers, especially since 2012.

3. So why did the government not take notice? Well, Reader, you have to admit that when President Duterte left for Russia, he had in tow both the AFP chief of staff, Gen. Eduardo Año, and the PNP chief, Director General Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa. Obviously, they thought everything was well in hand, and the so-called crisis caught them by surprise. Otherwise, there would have been complete staff work on its implementation at the ready.
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4. Problem of intelligence? Oh, I think the intelligence was there. But I also think that the police and the military are not properly coordinated, and the intelligence people have difficulty communicating with the leadership. Then there is the political problem: When a new dispensation comes in, says Banlaoi, it has to have its “katropa” along. So add to kaibigan, kaklase, kabarilan this new sign of power: katropa. If you are not katropa, your memos don’t mean a thing. Finally, there is the possibility that the war on drugs put the war on terror a far second, at least for the police.
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But, dear Reader, the legislative branch seems to have its problems, too.

The  1987 Constitution is very clear that within 24 hours following a proclamation (of martial law) or a suspension (of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus), Congress shall convene, without need of a call.  This was included in the Constitution to make sure that what Marcos did—i.e., close the doors of Congress to prevent a meeting—would never happen. But now Congress, as a sign of its “trust” in the President (notably  Senators Sotto and Ejercito, Speaker Alvarez, Senate President Pimentel) and forgetting the system of checks and balances in our democracy, seems prepared to accept his action, even without convening or an explanation.

So what do we have?  An executive and a rubber-stamp legislature with problems on upholding the rule of law?

The Supreme Court, our last bastion: no rubber stamp, we hope.