Mixed blessings

It’s mixed blessings, Congress ruling that Justice Mariano del Castillo is impeachable after all. Congress ruled so last week, reversing an overwhelming decision by the Supreme Court at the end of last year, finding Del Castillo innocent of the charge of plagiarism.

The downside is that it’s such bad timing. It comes at a time when Renato Corona finds himself in the dock at least in the court of public opinion if not of law—but which in this country has often proved more supreme than the Supreme Court—for a variety of transgressions. At the very least, assuming his post by way of a midnight appointment, betraying the very essence of Chief Justice, which is to be the epitome of virtue. By so doing, Corona has agreed to be the mere embodiment, or extension, of Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. At the very most owing allegiance to his sponsor and not to the people, betraying the very essence of Chief Justice, which is, as the title professes, to be the first to practice law in the grand manner, or in a manner that promotes justice. By so doing, he is merely practicing law in the most miserable way, or in a way that thwarts justice.

Del Castillo’s impeachment takes the heat off Corona who himself faces impeachment for far more patent and grievous transgressions. It draws public attention away from him. If Del Castillo’s impeachment takes a long time—which it is likely to, as he will have the best lawyers money can buy, courtesy of the best Supreme Court money can buy—Corona can take refuge in it, burrowing himself under it, away from the glare of the spotlight. In this country, time is always on the side of monstrosity. Look at how the Ampatuan trial has gone. Two years after “the crime of the century,” the century can barely remember the crime.

From the other end, the upside is more plentiful and weighty.

One is that I don’t know what kind of politics Congress is playing—the notion that it has turned from a den of thieves to a House of Prayer overnight does not strike me as all-too-plausible—but whatever it is, it is still a welcome one. Removing one of Arroyo’s justices from the Supreme Court will go a long way in lessening the bitter irony of the one institution in this country dedicated to law being the least given to it. Del Castillo of course is one of those justices who can find nothing wrong with Arroyo, and has a voting record, alongside that of Corona, to show it. About time we put the fear of God, or justice, among Arroyo’s justices.

Two is that Del Castillo’s case proves beyond a shadow of doubt how the Court has become the last place where justice can be found. Or indeed, how it has become the new priesthood, whose interpretation of life and law, of history and Constitution, is beyond challenge or question.

Del Castillo’s case has always been wrongly depicted as plagiarism. It is not plagiarism, it is worse than plagiarism. What Del Castillo did was not just to copy word for word without attribution an opinion expressed by an American lawyer, Evan Criddle, it was to distort that opinion and make argument for the opposite of what Criddle intended. Criddle argued that jus cogens gave the “comfort women” the right to make government speak up for them before the Japanese. Del Castillo used that very principle to deny the comfort women that right. If there’s any worse display of lack of principle or moral scruple, I don’t know what it is.

What made things worse than even all this was that the Supreme Court did not just overwhelmingly clear Del Castillo of the charge, finding “no merit” in the complaint of the UP professors led by Harry Roque and Marvic Leonen, it found the professors themselves guilty of sacrilege. Or its legal equivalent: The Court demanded that the professors show cause why they should not be cited for contempt. When in fact it was the Court that most needed to show cause why the world shouldn’t find it utterly contemptible.

Again look at the Supreme Court and see if that is not the one branch of government that has arrogated unto itself all the powers of heaven and earth. Look at the Supreme Court and see if that is not the face of tyranny.

Three is that it is a blow for justice.

At the very least it is a blow for justice for the comfort women whose path to righting a wrong—age-old but one that may not be allowed to be forgotten—and getting some restitution for their ordeal, has been opened once again. The comfort women have already been doubly raped, once by the Japanese Army, twice by the Supreme Court. It’s time they got the justice that has been eluding them, before their years on earth are over.

At the very most it is a blow for justice for us who thought we had ended tyranny only to find it still lurking around in the last place we thought to find it. It shows Corona the path that lies before him if he should refuse to resign from his position the way Merceditas Gutierrez did and from mortal coil the way Angelo Reyes did. The wheels of justice may move agonizingly slowly in this country, but they grind agonizingly thoroughly those it manages to catch up with. As Ferdinand Marcos and Joseph Estrada know very well, who have seen the fury of People Power. As Arroyo knows very well who has seen the implacability of P-Noy Power.

By all means let’s impeach Mariano del Castillo. But let us do it speedily and well to assure that it propels the journey toward the daang matuwid and does not create detours in it. That is a challenge for government lawyers who have so far not shown themselves equal to rising to challenges. Here is their chance to do so. It’s all very mixed blessings.

But I for one will take my blessings where I can find them.