Some guys have all the luck—particularly if you are Ronald Llamas, and your brand of luck happens to be named Benigno Aquino III, president of the Republic of the Philippines.
The President’s steadfast, indomitable friendship with his shooting buddy and presidential adviser on political affairs was put to the test not too long ago, when Llamas’ car and bodyguards figured in a vehicular accident that, upon investigation, led to the discovery of a small arsenal of firearms in Llamas’ car. Though registered, the guns could not legally be brought outside of its owner’s home. At the time of the incident, Llamas was in Geneva, Switzerland, attending an international conference. He claimed he needed to have that many weapons because of “credible threats” to his life. After the public outcry, the Philippine National Police revoked the license of his AK-47 assault rifle. But Llamas himself was left untouched, exonerated by a slew of excuses from Malacañang, which treated the whole incident as a trivial, passing matter blown out of proportion by the press. Two bodyguards of Llamas ended up taking the fall for the fiasco. They were dismissed from the service while their boss continued to be in the good graces of the President he had put on the spot.
To go by this history, the two bodyguards spotted guarding Llamas while he nonchalantly spent some 30 minutes browsing through and then buying pirated DVDs in a Quezon City mall a few days ago might also have to begin worrying about their jobs, now that their boss is once again in hot water. The amount Llamas shelled out for his DVD finds is small—about P2,000—but what complications that purchase has now imposed on Malacañang, which in the last couple of days has had to resurrect its armory of convoluted spin and twisted excuses to shield Llamas—again—and contain the fallout from his latest indiscretion.
That begins all the way from Mr. Aquino, who, when asked about Llamas getting photographed buying bootleg stuff while the government has been touting its anti-piracy campaign, remarked that “DVD (piracy) is perhaps somewhere below in our priority list. We have so many other problems like the spiraling prices of oil and the tensions in Iran.”
What a thoughtless, silly thing to say. Mr. Aquino needs no reminding that he is the chief executor of the country’s laws, among them national statutes and international agreements protecting intellectual property rights. The Philippines is currently on a US-led blacklist of 29 countries identified as having the highest proliferation of counterfeit goods.
Llamas, meanwhile, is no ordinary citizen. He is a presidential adviser—one who by his Cabinet rank is deemed an alter ego of the President. People like him are expected to be the first to follow the law. And his boss is expected to be the first to enforce it, starting within his official family. The last thing they are expected to do is explain away Llamas’ infraction by saying it is not a priority concern of the administration.
Worse, Llamas misused his public office. He didn’t even bother to pretend buying his bootleg hoard as a private citizen. He had to tote around two bodyguards—paid for with the people’s money—to case the periphery for him.
And what has he to say about his latest blunder? Incredibly, Llamas has gone incommunicado, unreachable by phone even days after the incident. Instead, he has let Malacañang, from Mr. Aquino and now to Presidential Spokesman Edwin Lacierda, do the talking for him.
“We would rather let Secretary Llamas explain his situation,” Lacierda said. Except that the presidential adviser isn’t talking, seemingly having run once again to the succor of his buddy, the President who, bafflingly, sees no oddity in laying on an endless apologia for Llamas while acting swiftly in the case of, say, recently sacked National Bureau of Investigation Director Magtanggol Gatdula.
The latest word from Malacañang is that Llamas will undergo some form of internal investigation to ascertain his culpability, but whether he should resign his post or not will be left up to him. “I will ask him first what he (was) doing there,” said Mr. Aquino. Nice—perfect for a chummy talk. But it’s way past that, and the President can do better this time than the usual niceties. He can ask for Llamas’ resignation, for, at the very least, embarrassing him and his government a second time. The guy has become a full-fledged liability.