High crimes

Frankly, I couldn’t understand that whole discussion last week about whether Renato Corona’s failure to correctly disclose his statement of assets, liabilities and net worth (SALN) constituted a high crime or not.

That arose after Serafin Cuevas read the stipulation from the Civil Service Commission that public officials were supposed to declare all the valuations of a property—fair value, zonal value, acquisition value, and not just one or two of them—and Elpidio Barzaga of the prosecution pointed out that Renato Corona had consistently failed to account for the acquisition value of his properties, notably his unit in Bellagio. Juan Ponce Enrile asked Barzaga if that was a high crime or not, since the Constitution said a president and the heads of independent bodies were impeachable only for high crimes. Barzaga said no.

Several things are wrong with that question, or its implication that a chief justice may be removed only if he has committed such things as betrayal of public trust and treason.

First, but of course it is a high crime, insofar as it was committed by one of the highest officials of the land. I will continue to maintain that the depth of reason needed to remove a public official should be in inverse proportion to the height of the position he occupies. The higher the office, the lower the reason. Or put in terms of crime, the gravity of a crime rises or falls in direct proportion to the weight of the office a public official occupies. The higher the office, the graver the crime.

A clerk who is caught falsifying his tax forms may be fired. A chief justice caught doing the same thing may be removed from office. A clerk who does this betrays only the BIR. A chief justice who does this betrays the public trust.

Second, the comparison with Bill Clinton is unfortunate. Clinton, if the charge against him had been proven to be true, would have been guilty only of getting a bj. Corona, if the charge against him can be proven to be true, would be guilty of mounting a snow job. Clinton would have been guilty only of violating spousal trust, Corona would be guilty of violating the public trust. I grant betraying spousal trust brings with it far harsher punishments than betrayal of public trust—the tender mercies of spouses have been known to be less tender than those of the public. But that’s another story.

Quite apart from this, Clinton might have denied the charge to death, and no one would have been the wiser, except he and Monica Lewinsky. Corona may deny the charge to death, but everyone will be the wiser, no small thanks to the difference between what he stated to be the fair value of his Bellagio unit and the amount he paid Megaworld for it. P6 million and P14 million are not a gap, they are a chasm. Additionally, one is tempted to say that only in the United States will you find such voyeuristic political exercises as trying to impeach a president for having sex with an intern, but we have had Senate hearings as well about the “Brunei beauties” and Katrina Halili, so patas lang. But far more patently, there’s compelling reason to want to impeach a chief justice for falsifying his tax declarations.

You want a comparison with the United States, look at Richard Nixon, not Clinton. Nixon’s crime was merely turning a blind eye on the break-in in the Democratic headquarters, if not indeed whitewashing it. In this country, that would not be called high crime, that would be called low tech. The people who perpetrated it would not be called thugs, they would be called amateurs. Not so in the United States. A president does that, he is guilty of betraying public trust, he is guilty of a high crime, he deserves to be impeached.

And look what Nixon did: He resigned. Out of shame or honor, you decide.

Third, even if you grant that Corona’s fudging of his SALN is not a high crime, which takes a lot of granting, it is not the individual crimes that constitute the high crime but the accumulation of these crimes that is so. Owning a couple of dozen of Roman houses at Spartan public servant wages, not reporting all of them and underreporting reported ones, obtaining cash advances from a company whose license to operate has been revoked by SEC—this is a pattern of behavior that ought to bar anyone, public or private, who holds a position of trust from continuing to hold on to that position. Least of all someone the world looks up to to dispense justice.

By themselves, the individual crimes are bad enough, and ought to be considered high crimes by the nature of Corona’s position. Taken collectively, well, will you trust a chief justice that acts that way?

Fourth, the discussion about whether or not an impeachable official ought to be impeached only for a high crime drives home the point again about culture. In Western countries like the United States and Europe, and in Asian ones like Japan and Korea, you don’t need to resort to impeaching impeachable officials or even firing ordinary officials for crimes, high or low, because the culture does the trick. Or more precisely public opinion, operating through culture, does the trick.

A chief justice who has tried to hide his wealth the way Corona has would have ceased to be chief justice long ago. A chief justice who has shown a partiality for a widely held corrupt and illegitimate president would have ceased to be chief justice long ago. A chief justice who was appointed by someone who had ceased to have the power to appoint would never have been chief justice to begin with. The culture would have turned someone like that into such an object of derision he would have slunk away in shame.

What are we suggesting by debating whether the crimes committed by a chief justice are high or not? It’s OK for him to remain in office so long as he is a petty criminal and not a big-time one?

That debate is a high crime in itself.