Lawmakers should take a long, hard look at the Family Code before considering a divorce law
A “divorce law” has been in existence in this country since the late President Cory Aquino promulgated the Family Code of the Philippines (FCP) in 1988: “A marriage contracted by any party who, at the time of the celebration, was psychologically incapacitated to comply with the essential marital obligations of marriage, shall … be void even if such incapacity becomes manifest only after its solemnization” (Article 36).
In this jurisdiction, it is called “declaration of nullity of marriage.” In others, notably the United States, it is called “divorce.” Essentially, both amount to the same thing: to cut an existing marriage bond—thereby enabling the parties to remarry someone else and move on to a new and legitimate lease on life, which is the main reason the dissolution of the previous union is sought for.
The only big difference is, while the FCP permits a marriage to be declared void ab initio (from the very beginning) only for one reason (“psychological incapacity”), divorce in the United States can be based on even the flimsiest of reasons (e.g., “incompatibility”). The principal objections to a divorce bill in this country revolve around such ridiculosity.
The FCP is nowhere near that American model. There’s more substance to it, which is good for the nation’s soul. But despite being a lawful way to end a marriage that’s irreparably failing, it has nonetheless stuck in the craw of many a divorce advocate. The very stringent requirements set by the numerous Supreme Court rulings on Article 36 have rendered it inutile more often than not. Inadequate proof of “serious psychological illness” was the constant buzzkill.
The case involving a former celebrity couple (G.R. No. 162368, July 17, 2006) which doomed them to be deemed “husband and wife till death do them part” probably stoked the fire in the perennial clamor for Congress to enact a more realistic divorce law. But thankfully, recent decisions of the Supreme Court have loosened the noose by pronouncing categorically that “psychological incapacity” is a “legal, not a medical, concept.”
That means the usual testimonies from psychiatrists or psychologists are no longer indispensable to the proceedings. It is now solely up to the trial judge to assess whether the totality of the evidence from the parties themselves and their lay witnesses is sufficient or not for him to conclude the existence of “psychological incapacity.” In other words, no more need for any medical expert’s psycho-babble which is suspect anyway for having been paid a bundle for by the parties.
In G.R. No. 246868 (Feb. 15, 2022), the Supreme Court had this to say in no uncertain terms: “[T]he findings of the trial court on the existence or non-existence of a party’s psychological incapacity should be final and binding for as long as such findings and evaluation of the testimonies of witnesses and other evidence are not shown to be clearly and manifestly erroneous.” The FCP, as can now be gleaned from recent Supreme Court rulings, is a middle ground between extreme liberality and the painfully prohibitive injunctions against the declaration of nullity of marriages. The soft-pedaling on the need for “expert” testimonies has opened the door wide enough for a more reasonable and down-to-earth approach to the mundane issues bedeviling marriages.
Now entrenched is the new norm that the conclusions of the trial court per se are “final and binding,” unless they are “shown to be clearly and manifestly erroneous.” This paradigm shift is most welcome. Not only does it reduce the cost of testimonial evidence, but also simplifies the adjudication process. Thus, before Congress takes a plunge into unchartered waters, it should leave room for this new regime of jurisprudence to take its course which might finally make Article 36 a species of “divorce” more palatable to everyone.
Stephen L. Monsanto,
[email protected]
