Dieting without pork

I was asked by my Rotarian friends to articulate my views on the Priority Development Assistance Fund after a lively discussion with our club’s guest of honor, Rep. Roilo Golez (2nd district, Parañaque). As a three-term congressman, I am an “ex-porker,” having partaken of my Countrywide Development Fund, as it was then called.

Like any other congressman, I believed that the pork barrel serves as an equalizer. It fills whatever is lacking in many remote districts. These needs do not show on the screen of city- and capital-centric bureaucrats with their bias for macro planning. Who but the representative of Tawi-Tawi, for example, would know that Sitangkay or Simunol island needs a classroom built on stilts above the seaweed plantations? And that schoolchildren paddle their way to school? Representatives serve a unique role as conduits for the people they are in touch with and the national government officials they have access to.

But my position after the Napoles scam was uncovered has changed completely. The PDAF must go, and there is no way it should be allowed to resurface in any shape or form. But in fairness to the honest and hardworking members of Congress, I will be the first to admit that their PDAF reaches their constituents. In what form or manner this benefits their constituency is the point of the debate.

Let me cite two examples. One is Representative Golez, a respected member of Congress who does his homework and consults with his constituents. Yet you may question the use of his PDAF in building a total of 45 covered courts—one for each barangay, as he himself has disclosed. While we think there may be better uses for the funds, who are we to question what his constituents want? Covered courts are used not only for sports development but also for people’s assemblies, and as auditoriums, graduation venues, and evacuation centers.

Another former colleague, the late Rep. Antonio Diaz, devoted his PDAF solely to scholarships. He supported a mind-boggling total of 40,000 scholars! He did not care much for hard infra because to him, education was far more important to his constituents. I recall having boasted that my “hard” projects of farm-to-market roads, bridges, and small river impounding projects for the farmers, fishing ports for fishermen, school buildings, classrooms, hospitals, clinics, water wells, and spring water developments for the highlands, etc. would leave a longer lasting legacy and benefit a far greater number of people. But who was I to say that to him or to his scholars?

But now I join the majority who believe that the evil that the PDAF spawns is greater than the good it was intended to do. No safeguards are good enough for the wily schemers. Even allowing congressmen to identify projects in the budget will cause the PDAF to rear its different but just as ugly head. The district engineer and provincial environmental officer, etc. will only be told that the line-item project in the district was placed in the budget because of the congressman’s intervention. And that is enough cue for them to favor his preferred contractor or supplier.

And for items such as medical expenses and scholarships for the deserving and needy, why ask the patients or scholars to line up at the offices of the congressman or governor? Why not course the funds directly to the hospitals or clinics, and the state universities and colleges? They are far more competent in screening applicants based on qualifications and need. And for burial assistance and transport fare for the “Balik Probinsya” program, the Department of Social Welfare and Development can do a better job in dispensing such assistance.

This is a rare opportunity to do away not only with the PDAF but also with patronage politics and “epalism.”

The question, however, is asked: Once the PDAF is removed from the legislators’ hands, is it now safe with the executive agencies? We only have to be reminded that then Undersecretary Joc-joc Bolante’s operations in the Department of Agriculture and the P900-million Malampaya fund that was looted did not involve the PDAF. The mayors’ signatures were forged and names lifted from the phone book for the required list of beneficiaries.

Neither did the Armed Forces funds that were given away as “pabaon” to retiring generals involve the PDAF, or the textbooks scam in the Department of Education, or the reforestation projects that go up in smoke yearly as reforested areas are intentionally set on fire.

The list can go on. Thus, I wouldn’t be surprised if the elaborate PDAF scam was likewise concocted in the deep bowels of the executive agencies with the participation of recruits of the Napoles type. As word spread of the exceptionally generous share that she gave PDAF holders, legislators or their chiefs of staff were said to have made a beeline to her office.

So, are we completely defenseless against the marauders of public funds? The answer is: No! Congress, without the weight of the PDAF baggage it carries, can exercise its oversight functions over the executive branch more effectively. It can even insist on the one-fund concept, regardless of whether the source is revenue from taxes or the operations of Malampaya, Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corp., or Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office. With clean hands, Congress can reassert its moral authority to restore a real check and balance in our government.

Felicito C. Payumo represented the first district of Bataan for three terms. He is a former chair and administrator of the Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority and former chair of the Bases Conversion and Development Authority. He is the current chair of the University of Nueva Caceres and a member of the Rotary Club of Manila.