|
Just
like in any other soft state, corruption is a major
political problem in the country. The entire nation has
no choice but to engage in a very thorough but cathartic
(or liberating) process of moral cleansing.
But
first, a clarification: this concept of moral cleansing
is not Joe de Venecia’s “moral revolution,” a phrase
long in words but short in meaning. It has nothing to do
with his newly formed Moral Revolution Council, either,
the creation of which was launched with fanfare to
project his transformation to a crusading lawmaker from
a free-wheeling and -dealing traditional politician who,
until very recently, had dispensed political patronage
and largesse to favored subalterns.
Also,
this is not the Palace-sponsored National Reform
Council, which is a bitter, tragic joke that has been
conceptualized only because the Chief Executive is now
fighting dearly for her political life. Moral cleansing,
in its purest sense, goes after the corrupt public
officials instead of protecting them. This council is an
additional layer in the bureaucratic fat; it has come
late in the day with no clear mandate but to shield the
corrupt and the incompetent.
Moral
cleansing refers to the strengthening of the country’s
political institutions and the weeding out of the
corrupt and the undesirables in public service. It
encompasses a nationwide process of values formation
designed to strengthen the people’s awareness and their
resolve to combat corruption. It seeks to bring back the
old-school but basic idea that a public office is a
public trust.
Overall,
moral cleansing is part and parcel of a reformist agenda
that seeks national deliverance from the endemic
corruption that pervades in Philippine society. Indeed,
economic growth and development are anchored on good
governance, of which a clean and honest government is a
key component. Moral cleansing is not an abstract idea;
it is putting spine to a spineless government in a soft
state like ours.
In the
wake of the NBN scandal and other shady deals in which
the incumbent President and key allies are accused of
insatiable greed and alleged involvement (possibly
pocketing billions of pesos in bribe money), the call
for moral cleaning has assumed significant proportions.
It has become a nationwide clamor of citizens who have
become disillusioned by the strings of widely publicized
scandals and corrupt deals that were blamed on the
current administration.
But
moral cleansing goes beyond the mere assertion of
greater transparency in government deals and enforcement
of the constitutional right for full disclosure. It goes
beyond the mere enforcement of Republic Act 3019, or the
Antigraft and Corrupt Practices Act. It brings out the
punitive aspect of an honest-to-goodness anticorruption
campaign, which is haling to court those guilty parties
and putting them to jail.
One of
the failures of Edsa 1 and Edsa 2 is the inability to
jail the big-time raiders of the public coffers. Except
for Joseph Estrada, who was put under house arrest for
five years and later pardoned, those corrupt public
officials and their accomplices in the private sector
have been gone scot-free, conveying the unsavory message
that crime pays. Steal small and you have a problem, but
steal big and they have a problem.
Hence,
big-time corruption has become the norm; stealing
billions of pesos has been the standard. One does not
encounter any problem so long as he does not violate the
11th commandment, which is, “Thou shalt not get caught.”
But even when caught, one can still wiggle his way out
so long as he buys all those public officials who are
supposed to be the guardians of the people’s money and
public morality.
Hence,
moral cleansing is essentially punitive; it’s an eye for
an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Thus, the filing of
court charges against those involved in questionable
deals and putting them in jail is being seen as
appropriate to prevent corruption in government. Good
governance is a function of putting very stiff
punishment against those who steal the people’s money.
It is stiffer for public officials in higher offices for
they enjoy enormous leeway and discretion in the
exercise of their powers.
But
since the government is helpless and powerless to
enforce its own rules, the private sector, essentially
civil society, should initiate the process of moral
cleansing. For starters, civil society can set up the
proposed Philippine Corruption Watch to serve as the
repository of information and documentation of
corruption cases. It will also verify and validate all
information on corruption cases. Moreover, this body can
also protect potential whistle blowers from harassment.
The
creation of a Philippine Corruption Watch is not new. In
other countries, notably Indonesia, where corruption is
as endemic as ours, this kind of body has been
functioning well. It has sent to court and to prison
camps a number of corrupt officials and their
accomplices who did corrupt activities during the
infamous regime of the late President Suharto. It should
be noted that the current state of anti-graft advocacy
in the country has long been characterized by the
cacophony of noises coming from practically all—or
every—direction. But advocates are not exactly sharp and
quick to come out with specific moves to pin down the
corrupt people in government. They form toothless bodies
that are not attuned to ridding the nation of
corruption. This lack of razor-sharp acuity probably
stems from the dearth of information and verified
details about those major graft cases. This has long
stifled the antigraft-advocacy works. Meanwhile, corrupt
people win by default. It is time to reverse the
situation and bring back the people’s trust in
government. |
