FREE television has afforded me a ringside view of some kind of a trial. The lawyers will not call it a trial. The senators behind the event say they’re doing it in aid of legislation. The idea is that a body or committee will invite people and, without indicting them at all, ask them questions. These people are being invited to shed light on something that is bothering the nation.
On one day, the irritant was the country’s highest-ranking policeman, Philippine National Police Director General Alan L. Purisima. The family name invites hermeneutics the purest of them all. Well, I can understand this quandary. These are not our names, which should tell us that we do not have a connection with the crests and escutcheons that exist somewhere in the Iberian peninsula. Unless you have Spanish blood that shows on your fair skin and aquiline nose, your name is the result of a random colonial exercise. A Spanish governor general, in a moment of inspiration, decided that we should drop our indigenous names. He was kind enough to provide a list from which names were either assigned to towns or imposed on families.
Irony of ironies! Quizzing the general was a senator named Grace. More amusing elements would not go unnoticed. The senator was addressed every now and then as “Madam Chair”. Go figure the absurdity of it all when we decide to go formal.
Language, not the law, provided the ambient sound at the court. Indeed, it is not so much how good you are with the law; it is how good you are with language. A stammer here and a stutter there compromise the position of the investigator. In the case of Sen. Grace Poe, she was cool, collected and confident. She was very good, both in English and Filipino. She was also not a bully.
Back to the court.
Is it true that you are building a house somewhere in Nueva Ecija? This was a question posed by some reporters to Purisima; he answered in the negative. He was not building anything. He was being truthful. The truth is, he has built it already. Is this touché, or are we just a bit touched in the head?
Donations were revisited during the investigation. Purisima admitted that he did not put malice
behind the donation, or something to that effect.
Days after the inquiry, newspapers showed photos of what some wags described as the Purisima house on the prairie. See how language plays out? The purest of the houses.
Photos of the house raised the biggest question of them all: Is this a mansion or not? As with all qualitative questions raised in this republic, it was not clearly settled.
This is the problem with our language: We are so used to exaggerations that, when the superlative gets in the way, we become superfluous.
Is there no way to settle the definition of a mansion? It looks like we do not have a clear definition of what constitutes a mansion and what makes a nipa hut.
This brings us to another inquiry, wherein a Senate committee was continuing to hear the question of overspending in Makati City.
The irritant this time was the chief architect who confessed that he did not know much about the project of the firm, of which he is a chief. All throughout, the irritation was expected to come from Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano. The senator proved to be the most patient of legislators on this side of the political universe.
Cayetano kept asking the architect if the proposed plan he submitted was also the same one followed by the Makati government. The architect kept declaring that he really did not know. I can imagine a teacher asking the student about a paper submitted and if the student knew something about it. If the student says no, then he is marked failed, as simple as that. But life is not as simple when legislators and a bit of legalese are involved.
And so, the questioning continued: Do you know the cost of the plan you submitted? The answer: I do not know. Believe me, that was the answer. An architect nowadays can submit a plan and tell the public that he does not know the cost? That was my impression.
This went on and on, and the patience of Job on another level was reflected by Cayetano. The camera kept focusing on the young architect. In fairness—and this time, it is not fair—to the young architect, he seemed at a loss in denying any further knowledge about the plan he submitted, and whether it was pursued, altered or not followed at all.
All this time, plates of food were being passed around, but no one was eating. Our legislators were passing up the opportunity to eat. Something was eating them and it had nothing to do with food.
After all, man does not live by bread alone. This is a statement that does not make sense, because a day in the court of this nation of ours does not make sense at all.
E-mail: titovaliente@yahoo.com.
Image credits: Jimbo Albano