What crisis?
Several senator-judges cited the fear of a constitutional crisis as their main reason for bowing down to the Supreme Court’s TRO.
What crisis?
At the very least, who’s afraid of a constitutional crisis? What do you do, give in to the Supreme Court every time it issues a TRO on something that threatens Renato Corona?
The fear in any case is grossly exaggerated. Leila de Lima ignored or defied – choose your poison – the Supreme Court’s TRO on preventing Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo from leaving the country and she did not spark a constitutional crisis. All she did was help get Corona impeached. Had the senator-judges ignored, or defied – still choose your poison – the Supreme Court’s TRO on opening Corona’s dollar accounts, they would not have sparked a constitutional crisis. They would have gotten Corona’s cohorts in the Supreme Court subpoenaed.
There is such a thing as common sense. There is such a thing as reason. There is such a thing as a sense of realism. The reason De Lima’s action did not spark a constitutional crisis despite the Supreme Court’s threats of legal hellfire was the public’s recognition of the justness of it. Or more patently, the public’s perception of the unjustness of the very people, who owe Arroyo body and soul, claiming the power to decree her fate. You saw that in the surveys and in spontaneous widespread condemnation of Corona’s interference and approbation of De Lima’s fortitude.
The point is not the formal rights and powers of the different branches of government, it is how they exercise them. You can talk about the first till you’re blue in the face, but you cannot hide the odious reality that the justices preventing Corona’s dollar accounts from being opened is like Corona finding midnight appointments constitutional. They have no business ruling on it. It is a conflict of interest. It is shamelessness.
While at this, Corona rails bitterly: “The impeachment court has lost the cold neutrality of an impartial judge, in derogation of the guaranteed rights of CJ Corona.” This is in reference to some senator-judges whom he accuses of acting as counsel for the prosecution rather than judges. What, he himself did not lose the cold neutrality of an impartial judge, in complete derogation of the office of the Chief Justice, when he agreed to be a midnight appointee, when he acted as counsel for Arroyo rather than the Chief Justice ruling in her favor in all the cases involving her? He has no business ruling on them. That is conflict of interest. That is shamelessness.
Corona’s refusal to inhibit himself from Arroyo’s cases was what got him impeached. The justices’ refusal to inhibit themselves from Corona’s impeachment should have gotten them impeached, never mind subpoenaed.
Instead, most of the senator-judges kowtowed to them. Remember them well.
At the very most, why should there be a constitutional crisis? The separation of powers, which is the principle constantly invoked to warn against it, does not mean that the Executive, Congress and the Judiciary are fiefdoms to be ruled with impunity by warlords without interference from each other, or without guidance from a central authority. Which is exactly how the people who keep invoking it make it out to be. They depict the three branches of government as private enclaves that may not encroach on each other. That overlooks the most vital thing in the conception of separation of powers. Which is that the three branches of government emanate from one thing, are accountable to one thing, derive their power and authority from one thing, and one thing only: The people.
One is tempted to say that all this talk about a looming confrontation between the Executive and the Judiciary, P-Noy’s government and Corona’s Court, completely forgets a third vital element – the people. But the people are not a third element at all, they are the linchpin of the three branches of government, they are the foundation of the three branches of government, they are the air the three branches of government breathe. They are not just a vital element, they are the source of life of the three branches of government.
In other countries that practice representative democracy, the people remain at the heart of everyday political life because of the power of public opinion. “Taxpayers’ money,” “I’ll write my congressman” and “public office is a public trust” are not empty shibboleths. They are the dynamics by which the people participate in their everyday governance. That is not the case here, which makes it so easy for the three branches of government to imagine, singly or collectively, that they exist not just independently of each other but of the people. Which makes it so easy for them to ignore public opinion, to ignore the public, to ignore the people. The only time they are reminded of it is when the people themselves reclaim the power their officials have forgotten came from them by an expression of direct will.
By People Power.
Clearly, they need reminding all over again. And no time is a better time than this time. What makes the omission, or exclusion, of the people from all this talk of a constitutional crisis particularly glaring is that we are at the heart of the People Power months. Edsa II took place in January and Edsa I in February. February 25 particularly blazes forth like a huge neon sign in that respect, the date that most embodies or symbolizes People Power. It’s time we flocked once again to the Edsa Shrine, or to Padre Faura, or to the Senate Building, and made our sentiments known. And made our will known. And made our power known.
What crisis?
There is no Gordian knot where there is Alexander’s sword. There is no constitutional crisis where there is People Power.
