Editorial cartoon by VINCENT GO
Supreme Court Chief Justice Renato Corona stunned Filipinos Tuesday when he walked out of the impeachment court at which he was on trial for failure to declare some of his properties and bank accounts in his Statement of Assets Liabilities and Networth.
“I am the Chief Justice and I want to be excused,” Corona said, and then stood up, stepped down from the witness stand and left the session hall without looking back, to the shock of even his own lawyers. He should have sought discharge from the presiding officer and waited till it was given. But he didn’t.
This was not the kind of behavior expected of the Chief Justice, who is supposed to be the expert when it comes to proper legal decorum. It was also not the kind of behavior the impeachment audience is used to, having witnessed how the court demands strict observance of etiquette and formalities of whoever takes part in it. Anyone who disrespects the court is sure to get a dressing down, if not contempt charges, live over national television.
Corona’s open defiance of the rules of court could have been motivated by any number of reasons. His lawyers said he had skipped lunch, which in his diabetic state caused a drop in his blood sugar. A TV network reported that Corona planned to sneak out without being cross-examined, except that he was intercepted and stopped by Senate guards. Perhaps he simply refused to submit himself to the Senate as an impeachment court since the Senate is supposed to be part of a co-equal branch of government.
At any rate, the Chief Justice’s “antics,” which is what lawyer Harry Roque called Corona’ s behavior, pre-empted any questions over his opening statement, a three-hour monologue punctuated by tearful pauses.
In it he said he was the victim of a vendetta launched by President Benigno Aquino III, who harbored a cabal of leftists in his government.
Corona denied having amassed ill-gotten wealth and explained how he got rich—he came from a well-to-do family, lived a frugal life without maids or even airconditioning, and had been saving his money in dollars since the late 1960s.
He denied having 82 dollar accounts, as the Ombudsman told the impeachment court, but admitted some were in existence until a few years ago. Indeed, his opening statement raised many questions no one was able to ask.
The clincher came when he signed a waiver he brought with him authorizing his banks to make public his accounts. But even that came with a catch.
“You first,” he seemed to tell senator-judges and the 188 members of congress who voted to impeach him. He had a blank waiver form distributed to the lawmakers and said he would submit his, once everyone else signed similar waivers over their own dollar deposits. He who casts the first stone, was Corona’s message.
This was what preceded the walk-out. And Presiding judge Juan Ponce Enrile was so incensed with Corona’s departure he ordered all Senate doors closed to prevent his premature exit. A few minutes later, Corona was forced to return to the session hall, with his apologetic lawyers promising to bring him back on Wednesday for the continuation of the trial.
Sitting speechless in a wheelchair and appearing dejected as the Senate adjourned, Corona looked like someone who could no longer escape a sad fate. – Luz Rimban
