The Bangus Ultimatum

No ghoulies for today’s post. Although I’ll share something really scary (at least for consti law dweebs). This is Justice Puno’s dissenting opinion in Lambino v. COMELEC, the latest “people’s initiative” case. It lost only by one vote. In a parallel world, this is the prevailing ruling of the Court, and we’ll probably have another spooged constitution on our plates by the end of the year.

I’m not one of those who think that the provisions of the Constitution are sacrosanct, and should thus be preserved at all cost. The amendment process was built so that we could do exactly that – evolve our core legal principles so that they can track our changing values. There are parts of the 1987 Constitution that are just broken, and given a well thought out chance to fix them, we should.
What I oppose, however, is hijacking the amendment mechanisms, and in such a sleazy manner, all to advance a selfish agenda.

The dissenting opinion should be taught alongside Carpio’s main opinion, so that it can be carefully analyzed by generations of law students. I don’t even know where to begin (I see a paper here somewhere) with Justice Puno’s opinion. Part of me couldn’t accept that even Justice Puno was buying what he was saying. True, I’ve always found the amendment/revision distinction problematic, but I wasn’t prepared for Puno’s tremendous leap, that as long as we retain the republican character (less than a line in our Constitution), all deep structural changes aside, it’s still an amendment. As an (erstwhile) programmer I have trouble accepting that. Instinctively you feel the difference between a patch and a new release.

So there.  I’m back worrying about Constitutional Law. That’s another scary thing.

Classmates keep insisting that what I did was what is known in the law on sales as emptio spei – the purchase of a vain hope. Like buying Raul Gonzales’ Commemorative Plaque of Appreciation from Amnesty International – it just isn’t there, and it’s kinda pointless waiting for it.
What was I expecting? That she’d change her mind? Say that upon careful reconsideration of evidence before her, my cause had merit? No. Some things just can’t be won and worked for. I’ve moved on. Or  damnit, I’m almost there.

Maybe I’m just a sucker for losing battles. The last suicidal muster before the bitter end.

Or maybe it’s because I believe in many worlds. That our actions cause the universe to branch out into parallel realities, each the realization of alternative outcomes. Maybe in some weird-ass reality where Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is a hemp-smoking organic soap-maker, things turned out better for me. And, rigid typologies notwithstanding, it might have been not-so-bad for her. Ya never know.

But I’m tired of thinking about the fractal bubbling off of the multiverse, and I deserve, in this reality, at the very least, some decent sleep.

The way our imported judicial system works, at least in the 2-dimensional world we law students live in, is that you go to court for vindication of your rights, and if you prevail (through merit, of course) – you get these court orders, or writs. They work like scripts – bits of code that gets things done. With these nifty court orders, you can adopt a child, or change your name, or get financial support from your asshole husband.

And then there are the more serious, heavier writs. They go from way back, and are considered cornerstones of our legal tradition. Which explains for why they’re in latin, and sound like spells from Harry Potter. Surely you’ve heard of habeas corpus, which enables you to appear before a court and ask (in essence) “Hey, why am I, like, in jail?” It’s supposed to be a really big thing when you’re in a democracy – you can’t be deprived freedom without legal basis, and habeas corpus precisely enables you to examine the legality of your detention.

And then there’s certiorari. It’s just like an appeal. Only it’s really not. Judges and officials make honest mistakes. They may fail to grasp the ramifications of the evidence, or misinterpret the law. You use your vanilla-flavored appeal to question their conclusions. But what if it’s not just the conclusion that’s wrong, but the very decision-making process (or decision maker) that’s tainted. You ask for a writ of certiorari – to review and set aside capricious, whimsical, or maybe just utterly boneheaded abuses of discretion.

The Ombudsman recently decided that COMELEC officials weren’t liable for the 1.3 billion-peso clusterfuck that was the election automated project. This despite the Supreme Court’s previous findings of illegality surrounding the contract. This despite the recommendations of her own investigating officer. This despite the  her own resolution barely three months before her inexplicable flip-flop.

That’s what been keeping me up all night for the past few days. That is my outrage of the moment. That is why I have to research for and footnote a mean “cert” petition that will, hopefully, bring this crufty Ombudsman before the Supreme Court so that she can explain how things could have gone terribly terribly wrong.

Game’s on. Oh it is so on.

Aren’t quite here yet. There’s the certiorari petition to the Supreme Court to worry about (Hint: it’s all about the Ombudswoman’s Really Bad Decision). And the paper on Election Law (with this Ombudswoman, under this administration, why bother?)

To stay sane and happy with my work I installed Ubuntu Linux. Because if you have to work in the coal mines, at least you have to work with the most enjoyable shovel possible.

Burned a lot of energy last weekend working on confidential memos related to my OLA cases. You write confi memos to give the law intern who might end up with your cases a background, as well as some bits of wisdom you learned along the way. Given enough time, I’d go for archiving some of these cases as well – some of them have been resolved, one way or another, and I need to put them to their final resting place.

The thing with OLA, the thing with our justice system, is that cases drag on for so long that individual lawyers may never see the consequences of their actions. In OLA, Law Interns could be turning over cases thrice a year (Summer, 1st and 2nd Semesters). Few of us ever had to deal with a heartbreaking defeat, or a sweet victory. The internship program passes by, and for the most part it’s disconnected drudgery. File this motion, attend that hearing. Do the legwork. With never enough time, you’re forced to deal only with these atomic bits, far removed from the beating, bleeding heart of the case.

Lucky for me, I’m the intern on the terminal point of one of these cases. Lucky for me, I’m going to be the one who’ll receive the final final decision from the Supreme Court, and I’ll have to face my clients and say that after years of work by supposedly the best law students in the country (I could be wrong) – I’m sorry – but this was all we could do.

The way we do legal internship in U.P. is an achievement. No less than the Supreme Court has praised OLA’s work (a fact they never fail to tell us during orientation). Law schools all over the Philippines are trying to imitate it, with varying degress of success. I think that all things considered, it’s a force for good. I wonder though to what degree this success has been examined and interrogated – or maybe we’re just proceeding out of sheer inertia. Just about every class, every teacher in U.P. is exposed to some feedback process. In the humble college where I come from – students get to evaluate their internship program, and the administration is not totally insensitive to them. At the barest minimum, we’d want to check if the internship program is getting in the way of their learning. Feedback keeps us honest, helps us improve. I don’t know if they’ll let us evaluate the program at the end of our internship – more of the same thing, because that’s how it’s always been done.

Here’s the deal: I’m too busy to write my own yearbook profile, and I don’t want to burden my friends with writing the whole thing. So I’m going to do this via wiki.

Go to http://emerprofile.pbwiki.com. Click on the “Edit page” button. Type in “emeremer” if prompted for the password. Just keep stacking words/phrases/sentences/urls/any ascii-entity that you think will essentialize me, your friend/enemy/random person of the day. I’ve already given the first shots to get the ball rolling (you can edit everything though). Everything is permitted. Enjoy!