if you were in their shoes?

Faithful reader Abbygail asks a provocative question:

… if you will be tapped by the govt. to serve in teves’ shoes, what will you do to change the rut we’re in? help the people w/ your ideas. we cannot be blaming each other forever and just sit still. what will you do if given that chance to serve?

I personally do not think that an interactive forum like ours requires its participants to offer specific alternatives (in contrast, for example, to a newspaper editorial). It’s more than enough to express ourselves and discuss issues with others. But I do share Abbygail’s concern about moving forward (note, please, that I did not use that old plea to “move on” — euphemism for forgiving and forgetting).

If we were in a high official’s place, what, specifically, would we do? No need to limit ourselves to Finance Secretary Gary Teves; how about we choose one department (say, DND) or agency (say, Pagcor), and then offer our proposed (specific) solutions?

Should be interesting. But, please, keep it specific. As they say, God (or the devil) is in the details.

Malacanang has come out swinging against the October 2007 Pulse Asia survey that found President Arroyo the “most corrupt President” in the history of the Philippines.

PMS Chief Cerge Remonde called it “unfair, unkind, and un-Christian.”

Cabinet Secretary Ricardo Saludo said surveys like these were largely irrelevant. “Pinakamahalaga ang walang sawang serbisyo ng Pangulo sa milyun-milyong Pilipino, hindi ang rating niya sa mga survey ng 1,500 tao.”

The insinuation that the small sample size of such surveys rendered them insignificant was echoed in one of Press Secretary Ignacio Bunye’s statements. He said: “We therefore vehemently challenge the survey results which could have been influenced by a number of distorting factors such as the sample (1,200 respondents out of 84 million Filipinos), possibly misleading questions and even the person or persons who commissioned the survey.”

Executive Secretary Ed Ermita later amplified on that last point. Clearly referring to ex-senator Serge Osmena, he said: “It’s a pity that because of politics, certain elements — organizations or individuals – are using the survey as a fodder for their relentless attack on the President.”

Are the President’s men arguing reasonably? Judge for yourself. In Newsstand, I list many links, to Pulse Asia, to previous readings of earlier surveys, to the science of opinion polling. One thing I did not include there, which we can put to good use here, is the Sample Calculator. How big should your sample be, if you want it to be representative of the population you are surveying?

Go ahead. Give it a try. 

In history’s all-star corruption race, who was worse?

Pulse Asia has an answer; or, rather, the survey firm has plumbed public opinion, and located the public’s answer. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is the “most corrupt president in history,” statistically edging out the late dictator, Ferdinand Marcos.

Here are three Tables of survey findings (the survey was taken in October 2007), summarizing the current state of public opinion. (Note, in particular, the second Table.) Please click on the thumbnail images to enlarge them.

An initial, cautionary reading can be found in Newsstand.

Back in 2006, in my own blog, I pointed out an interesting phenomenon I called The battle of the epistles (a battle that kept going, and going, and going…). It made a public personage of Bong Austero, for example. The

The battle of the open letters gets relaunched every time the political crisis starts veering towards violence. And it has extended to blogs, where manifestos (which, essentially, what an open letter is) get posted online. See, for example, The “Wala na bang iba?” Manifesto (read the whole thing). But still, the main battleground remains open letters, and the usefulness of such letters for institutions to express their thoughts.

One example is  Ateneo de Manila Sanggunian President: Statement on the Manila Peninsula Siege, similar in attitude to the manifesto linked to, above:

Change is disguised in many ways. Let us not be swayed by the propaganda of ill-thought nationalism.

Ateneans, I challenge you to speak and let your thoughts be heard. One opportunity is during the Senate Inquiries on Friday (December 7) at the Henry Lee Irwin Theater. This is the moment to shine, be passionate, think of how you reacted to the Dress Code issue during the first semester. This is the Ateneo way, after all. If not, then what is?

For the sake of discussion, here are other statements, too, from more senior people.

First, there is the open letter or statement of Pugadlawin, an Ateneo de Manila organization of faculty, etc. Here is what they have to say:

An excerpt:

When  Pugadlawin (Puwersa para sa Ganap na Demokrasya, Labang Wagas  para sa Inang Bayan) was organized amidst the threat of both a military coup and  martial law in February 2006, we said that in the face of looming political polarization,  what was needed is a new force to reclaim and rebuild the political center.  The  challenge is to work for genuine democracy: to defend the hard-won victories over authoritarianism, and to deepen democracy beyond its often formal and elitist character  towards greater popular participation and social justice. We reiterate this call today: 1) to  oppose initiatives that cater to narrow interests, curtail participation and endanger  democracy (e.g., coup attempts, government repression, self-serving cha-cha); 2) to build consensus around democratic processes and institutions as the way to resolve the  political crisis and promote reform (e.g., elections); 3) to forge a sociopolitical agenda  that would galvanize citizen involvement, linking social and political transformation, local  and national development.  Our aim is to build democratic institutions and foster hope in political action.

And here is a statement from the Christian Brothers of De La Salle University. First, an introduction:

And then the statement itself:

An excerpt:

For these reasons, even if it amounts to no more than a voice crying out in the  wilderness, we, the De La Salle Brothers of the Philippines, feel the need to proclaim once again the same values we espoused in 2005: truth, justice,  honesty and integrity. Without these, no government can be trusted, and where there is no trust, governance degenerates into bribery and intimidation.  We join in the call of courageous religious leaders and of proven men and women of  conscience who seek a moral revolution. But if such a call is to become more  than mere lip-service, we must translate it into effective action on behalf of the values we espouse, keeping in mind the legal framework of the Constitution. We  call on men and women of goodwill to act now to make real the change they want to see.

Whatever the opinion, I think it’s healthy and necessary, for such open letters to be written, to be circulated, debated, and even challenged. Better for people to take up the pen and express themselves than remain silent. But what do you think, which letter comes close to your opinion?

In my column today, I tried my hand at reading public opinion on graft and corruption under GMA — and why more people haven’t taken to the streets. (I actually did the reading last Thursday, before the Rotary Club of Manila, on the same day as the Trillanes caper.)

I sifted through the findings of three surveys, but essentially the attempt is a meditation on the latest (October 2007) Pulse Asia poll. These findings, in particular:

(Please click on the images to enlarge them.)

The conclusion I reached (and of course I am aware I could have gotten things fundamentally wrong) suggests that Ping Lacson’s latest attempt to disclose another corruption scandal still won’t force people out into the streets.

The lesson for regime-changers: Corruption scandals do not prematurely bring down an administration, but proof of something else entirely — brazen fraud, gross impunity, lewd dancing in the halls of the Senate.

This also suggests that suspending the high-profile Senate hearings on the ZTE case, where revelations not only of corruption but of obvious duplicity or gross arrogance were a real possibility, was a strategic mistake on the part of the opposition.

What do you think? More to the point, what kind of brazenness, similar to the “na-onse tayo” vote on the second Velarde envelope, would set the streets on fire?

Antonio Trillanes, failed mutineer turned Senator of the Republic, has decided to play for all the marbles. After holing up in the Manila Peninsula with about 30 soldiers, he has  asked the public to choose between him and the President.

I get the sense that this pseudo-mutiny or quasi-coup will not end peacefully.

At the annual conference of the American Studies Association of the Philippines last Saturday, I started off with a borrowed idea (from Henry Jenkins of the Center for Future Civic Media, whom I read about through Ethan Zuckerman’s indispensable blog). I started with a question: What does democracy look like? And then offered the following photograph, by the celebrated Romy Gacad of AFP, as an answer.

I explained why, in the following terms:

“This Agence France Presse photograph was taken on August 12, 2006, when President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo paid a quick visit to Legazpi City to survey preparations at a danger zone under the shadow of a restless Mayon. The next day, I wrote in my Newsstand blog:

This photo, taken yesterday by the peerless Romy Gacad of AFP in the vicinity of Mayon volcano, spoke to me on so many levels I knew I just had to use it … The composition is so exact it seems almost posed, until you consider the subjects involved: President Arroyo, of course, under the umbrella, facing (or receiving tribute from) Albay Gov. Gonzalez, Reps. Salceda and Lagman, and volcanology institute chief Solidum. (Note the triangle that the officials form.) Other photos, taken by Gacad and by other photographers too, remind us that this particular tableau was very much a product of the moment; in fact, most of the pictures taken at this volcano-gazing event yesterday show either the President by herself or in a huddle with officials. But the veteran lensman saw something different, perhaps a shift in movement, perhaps a blurring and then a coming-into-focus of color. Was it perhaps the presidential umbrella that drew his attention?

“In the 15 months since I wrote that, I have become more and more convinced that this candid portrait of the hierarchy of political power, caught on the wing, tells us something true about democracy, Philippine-style.

“But if this is democracy, where are the demos? Three possibilities. The people are implied; the leaders from the executive and the legislative branches are discussing their fate. The people have been warned off; note the sign that can be glimpsed in the space between the President and her umbrella-toting guard. If we fill in the blanks, we can read: Warning Don’t Go Beyond The Line. Not least, the people (and the press) are outside the frame, watching the scene.

“You may have other images in mind that illustrate democracy, Philippine-style. Any of the iconic photographs from the four heady days of Edsa Uno, for instance, would be similarly evocative. Familiar images of Philippine elections—yellow ballot box, blue-stained index fingers, seminarians in white—remain resonant. A photograph taken by Inquirer photographer Rem Zamora during special elections last May casts the eternal triangle of ballot box, armed guard, and election volunteer in a new light, literally through a different grid.

“But back to Bicol. I hope you will agree with me when I say that the Gacad photo does two things wonderfully well: It captures the elite nature of our representative democracy today, and at the very same time it recalls the datu-and-tribute origins of our history.”

The rest of my remarks can be found here, in Newsstand. But I would be interested to find out: For you, what does democracy look like? If you can’t post a photo, maybe you can post a link!

My column today, Don’t engage or dignify it , makes reference to these two documents, submitted by Atty. Adel Tamano to the Committee on Justice of the House of Representatives.

The first document is an Addendum/Supplement to the Pulido complaint, in an effort to fortify the case.

The second document is Tamano’s response to Rep. Matias Defensor’s rejecting the Addendum/Supplement:

Both make reference to the original impeachment complaint submitted by Atty. Pulido and endorsed by Rep. Edgar San Luis:

You can judge for yourself the merits (if any) of the Pulido complaint, the arguments of Tamano as to why they could do with some fortifying, and his counter-arguments when Rep. Matias Defensor rejected Tamano’s submissions.

Better for the complaint to be weak and gummy, than to allow it have teeth; the House dentists are against any legal dentures. But then, it may be that the absence of teeth is due to the Supreme Court,  as the PCIJ reports here: Impeachment case brought to SC.

Inquirer.net’s Thea Alberto  has the scoop: A copy of the Australian Federal Police report she was able to get her hands on confirms what PNP Chief Avelino Razon has said since last week: It was a gas build-up that led to the explosion in Glorietta 2, not a terrorist’s bomb.

Australian forensic experts have concluded that the blast which killed 11 and injured over a hundred in a mall in Makati City last month was caused by a gas explosion and not by an improvised explosive device.

In its 13-page report, a copy of which was obtained by INQUIRER.net, the Australian Forensic Police (AFP) however did not say what had led to the blast although it noted that there were several “potential sources” which included the “sewer gas/fumes which can consist of sulphur dioxide, methane, ammonia; diesel fumes.” Australian experts also said that there were no traces of bomb parts.

It is a conclusion I have a hard time believing, in part because of the previous theories floated by Razon himself and by other responsible officials (summed up in this Inquirer editorial), and in part because my own sources tell me the story isn’t over yet.

The editorial (published the day after Razon and a galaxy of star-bearing police officers visited the Inquirer and the Star) listed the different theories and the assertions of fact already on record, and concluded:

We recognize, of course, that theories change as more facts emerge. We understand that, aside from that stray remark about RDX traces being found, not much else points to a bomb. But we also realize that in some high-profile terrorist acts, it took government investigators some time to prove that bombs were in fact used.

We acknowledge the investigators’ readiness to continue considering the bombing angle — they were, after all, the first to consider it. We recognize their testing of new theories as consistent with the emergence of new facts. We believe, however, that their main duty, at this time, is to ascertain all the necessary facts. Unless these are established, any theory offered to the public is a rush to judgment.

The Australian forensic report goes a long way to establishing the gas leak theory, but Makati City Mayor Jejomar Binay remains skeptical. Before a copy of the report was obtained, but after Razon had raised the gas build-up theory again, Binay called for greater transparency in the ongoing probe and a new, independent investigation altogether.

Earlier, the mayor had called for an independent and impartial probe, citing the PNP’s “inconsistent and at times illogical statements.”

(Of course, Binay’s point is not without self-interest; the gas theory would make City Hall and its opposition leadership liable for negligence.) 

Even today’s Youngblood, a deeply moving tribute to one of the tragically slain, raises the possibility that the investigation was “polluted by politics.”

I have my doubts too.

In the first place, the record is clear: A few hours after the explosion, the PNP Chief himself aired the possibility that the blast was caused by a bomb.

Secondly, the visits by the PNP top brass to the various newsrooms were highly unusual. It could be that this is merely the way the new Chief does business, but as one can readily see from a comparison of the same-but-different front pages of the Inquirer and the Star the day after the visit, this kind of unusual attention stokes a journalist’s hard-earned skepticism.

Thirdly, the police generals were quick to adopt an aw-shucks attitude when questioned about the technical details of the (new) theory they were proposing. If this were a murder, I can answer your question directly, Razon told me, in so many words, during the meeting with Inquirer editors and reporters. The chief of the investigating task force, Chief Supt. Luizo Ticman, also admitted that the details were a little too arcane for him, but said he and the top brass were relying on the work of their expert investigators. We asked him for a listing, and he said: Sure, but I will have to ask them for permission first.

(A note: The quotes are without quotation marks because I am paraphrasing, as best I can, from memory.)

Later, maybe 20 minutes later, an aide handed Ticman a single sheet of yellow or legal paper, with what looked like 20 or so names written on it. This, he said, waving it in the Inquirer’s multi-purpose room on the second floor, is a list of all those experts working with us. I caught a look at some of the lines; they contained police titles: PO3, PO4, and the like. I remember thinking: Would a one-star general need the permission of the PNP’s own experts (he mentioned, other others, a “metallurgy forensic expert”) to disclose their participation in a high-profile investigation?

Fourthly, my own sources tell me about other findings, other “facts” unaccounted for in the new theory. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to corroborate what they say.

All this makes today’s Youngblood essay, by Patricia Palea Orjalo, that much harder to read. Patricia writes:

I was in denial for a long time. From the moment I got the first text message, to the anxious hours of searching for him at the Makati Medical Center and Ospital ng Makati, up until the night I looked at him inside the coffin, I could not accept the painful reality that my good friend had departed. But then again, who would have thought that a person so full of life and who gave so much would go ahead of us?

All of Onin’s friends and loved ones were distraught. A dark cloud hovered over the Vidamo residence on the first night of the wake. Mass was said with everyone present in tears. It started with discreet sniffs and burst out in loud wails of anger, grief and despair. The priest did not bother to stop the ceremony to comfort the family members. He let them be.

While John has his views, my views are, perhaps, slightly different, and you can find them here.

I think there are only a few things we can assume.

1. Joseph Estrada valued his freedom more than the desire of others for him to make a martyr of himself by willingly seeking out imprisonment in New Bilibid.

2. The President obviously thinks her Edsa Dos constituency will grin and bear it, complain but in the end stick it out with her, or if they finally leave her now, it doesn’t matter.

3. The long Nov. 1 & 2 holidays might dissipate political energy enough so that the resumption of hostilities with the reopening of Congress on Nov. 5 will mean momentum will have to be built up again, instead of barreling along the way it has.

Meanwhile you may be interested in the debate Dean Jorge Bocobo and I are having in the comment section of his blog, over Joker Arroyo and the Inquirer’s story on that controversial senate executive session with Romulo Neri.