|
The
mountain labored and brought forth a mouse. We refer to
the ballyhooed Cabinet “revamp” that President Arroyo
herself had announced she would carry out this month.
The announcement had sent shivers down the spine of a
number of underperforming department and bureau heads.
But it was over as soon as it began. The anticipated
head-chopping, the department shakeups, never took
place.
The
“revamp” began and ended with the replacement of Press
Secretary Ignacio “Toting” Bunye by peace process
presidential adviser Jesus Dureza. Bunye got a cushy
seat in the Monetary Board, apparently his reward for
serving as Malacañang’s stoical, uncomplaining lightning
rod for several years.
And
then, when the rumblings of the proverbial mountain
ended, out came the appointment of Silvestre Bello III
as secretary to the Cabinet.
The very
mention of
Bello’s name (which somehow sounded familiar) hardly created a
ripple. After all, the new job given to him has no
political significance. It is, in fact, not a tad more
exalted or glamorous than that of any corporate girl
Friday, whose duties usually include ensuring that
executive meetings never run out of coffee and snacks.
Bello himself, according to my sources in Malacañang, does
not think too highly of his new job, which he reportedly
describes to his associates as one demanding the
meticulousness of a woman. But he accepted the job
anyway, which makes us presume that it must have been
for some deep, underlying reason unknown to us common
folk.
And
what, pray, could that deep underlying reason be? Is it,
perhaps, the sheer pleasure and privilege of having a
ringside seat at the very center of political power in
the country?
Or, from
a Machiavellian standpoint, is it the unquantifiable or
priceless opportunity of having the ear of the President
of the Republic available to him on a 24/7 basis? This
must have been one of his overwhelming reasons when he
accepted the “girl’s job,” but this is only speculation
on my part. In any case, I think he is overqualified for
the job, which makes his presence in Malacañang
“curiouser and curiouser” with each passing day.
In
accepting the job, it is presumed that Bello will be
temporarily sacrificing, por la patria, a
lucrative legal practice. “Bebot,” as
Bello is called, is mainly remembered in local legal circles
as the justice secretary under former President Fidel V.
Ramos. He was justice secretary for less than seven
months, from
July
15,1991, to February 7, 1992. His biodata shows that he
was, presumably until his appointment to the
girl-Friday’s job in Malacañang, a managing partner of
the Yulo, Torres, Terriala and Bello Law Offices.
Under
President Cory Aquino, he served as undersecretary of
justice from 1986 to 1991. Thus, it can be said that
Bello needs no instructions on the inner workings of the
Cabinet, how they are broken up into working clusters,
etc., having “been there and done that” as a
full-fledged Cabinet member.
My
sources in Malacañang, however, have let on that the
only reason Bello accepted the relatively menial and
unglamorous job of secretary to the Cabinet is to use
the position “as a stepping stone to a portfolio
assignment in the future.”
Does
this mean he is merely biding his time and, eventually,
would be shooting for Justice Secretary Raul Gonzalez’s
job? Heaven forbid.
There is
absolutely nothing wrong with nurturing such a
legitimate ambition, normally. But Bello may have
skeletons in his closet that even now, as insignificant
as his position in the Palace may be, could have a
potentially damaging effect on the credibility of the
entire Arroyo Cabinet.
Records
show (complete with clippings from the newspaper
archives) that Bello, not long after returning to
private practice shortly after stepping down as justice
secretary, was the counsel on record for 11 Indian
nationals who were caught in flagrante by National
Bureau of Investigation (NBI) operatives and were
eventually charged with drug trafficking. In that
celebrated case, Bello must have done some really
hotshot lawyering; the Indians were able to go back home
to India instead of facing the music here for their
nonbailable crime.
That
case was filed before the Department of Justice. The 11
Indians were detained in an NBI jail. And then,
voila!—when no one was paying attention—covered by a
secret deportation order, all the 11 drug-syndicate
members were whisked from jail to a waiting chartered
plane while the city was asleep.
Bello, to be fair, claims the Ombudsman consequently cleared
him of any involvement in that “great escape,” which had
stunned the entire country. Then-incumbent Immigration
Commissioner Zafiro Respicio, who had issued the
deportation order, however, was not as fortunate.
Respicio was given a prison sentence of from six to 12
years by the Sandiganbayan. The case is on appeal with
the Court of Appeals to this day.
You be
the judge. Do you honestly think Bello had absolutely
nothing to do with the way our drug laws were so
brazenly mocked by a bunch of filthy-rich drug lords?
Just
asking.
Omerta_bdc@yahoo.com |
