His doctors said yesterday Chief Justice Renato Corona had his first heart bypass surgery in 1995 and the second in 2008. He was also diagnosed with diabetes about 20 years ago.
So all you heartless, skeptical critics, it’s entirely possible that “the Chief Justice of the Republic of the Philippines” truly suffered a “hypoglycemic episode” and symptoms of “a possible heart attack” as he walked briskly, imperiously, out of the Senate session hall and toward the VIPs’ elevator going down to the garage, where his convoy waited to whisk him back to his kingdom.
I know another prominent lawyer with diabetes who, when he occupied a sensitive post in government, told us that he knew his blood sugar level needed correcting when he felt unusually sleepy and sluggish.
During hypoglycemic episodes, or when his blood sugar was low, he simply ate a piece of candy, he said. One of our editors with a similar problem drinks half a can of Coke.
Corona didn’t look sleepy, sluggish, or looking for a sugar fix when he stalked out of the witness stand last Tuesday. He didn’t look like he simply wanted to pee, either, as his lawyers claimed, since he headed for the exit, not the toilet.
As doctors pointed out yesterday, however, stress can do strange things to a man with many ailments. And it can be enormously stressful to walk out of your impeachment trial, without bothering to wait for a formal discharge from the court, and then being rudely reminded that you’re in the turf of a co-equal branch of government, whose head has ordered your return to the court.
So all you evil skeptics, it’s entirely possible that the sight of Senate sergeant-at-arms Jose Balajadia blocking his path made the Chief Justice of the Republic of the Philippines ill enough to require a wheelchair, and later to be taken to The Medical City.
At a certain age, a person undergoing a routine checkup in a hospital can end up in an operating room days later, after being diagnosed with a serious illness whose symptoms were either ignored or not felt. All our anatomical parts deteriorate over time.
If Corona’s wheelchair-bound, forced return to the Senate session hall and his subsequent hospital confinement are seen as part of a badly scripted act, it indicates the level of credibility that the Chief Justice of the Republic of the Philippines enjoys.
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Heartless critics sniff that the script isn’t even original; the nation saw a similar performance at the NAIA only last November.
Why is it that when it comes to the Supreme Court’s temporary restraining order, rushed ex parte at the end of a working day, which would have allowed Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo to leave the country ostensibly for medical treatment, the SC describes the order as a collegial decision? But if it’s the SC’s final decision on parceling out Hacienda Luisita (with Corona’s SC rivals concurring), the Chief Justice claims it as his handiwork, meriting vengeance from the President of the Republic of the Philippines?
Corona has been harping on the Luisita issue since the impeachment process got underway at the House of Representatives. Most of the statements he made in his three-hour state-of-my-assets address at the Senate he had already given. The only thing new was that he acknowledged the existence of four dollar and three peso accounts that he omitted declaring in his statement of assets, liabilities and net worth (SALN), which he still would not open to the public.
So the big news on the day he testified was his walkout, and his sudden illness.
The one who looked like he was genuinely having a hypoglycemic episode and a possible heart attack when Corona walked out was his lead counsel, former SC justice Serafin Cuevas.
It was also Cuevas (or maybe he has a lookalike) who was seen by journalists peeking into Senate toilets and rooms as he frantically looked for his client.
Curiously, it was also Cuevas alone among all the defense lawyers who looked genuinely surprised by the walkout. The buzz is that the real scriptwriter in the defense team is another lawyer, with Cuevas providing the credibility (and connections with the Iglesia ni Cristo).
Yesterday, Cuevas announced that his client would return to the Senate today. If Corona doesn’t, perhaps Cuevas will walk out of the defense team.
Things were looking up for Cuevas as of yesterday; his client finally signed a waiver – not of the secrecy of his bank records, but freeing his doctors of any responsibility in case he suffers a heart attack in returning to the Senate today.
It’s good to hear the Philippine Medical Association coming out with a statement condemning the use of medical excuses to evade legal obligations.
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One good thing that has come out of this trial is to put the spotlight on the accuracy of SALNs, including the declaration of bank deposits.
The law requiring public officials to submit annual SALNs makes no distinction between peso and foreign-denominated assets. With no exception specified in the law, all assets including foreign currency deposits should be declared in the SALN.
As in most Philippine laws, however, the problem has always been enforcement. There is no effective mechanism for checking the accuracy of SALNs. Imelda Marcos once emerged as the poorest member of Congress, and her SALN was never challenged.
The Foreign Currency Deposit Act or Republic Act 6426 also prohibits banks from releasing information about such assets to all but the account holder, unless the depositor gives a written permission. RA 6426 can therefore serve as a refuge for money launderers.
This can be corrected by amending the law, or by giving the Anti-Money Laundering Council more teeth rather than emasculating it , as suggested by some senators who feel their foreign currency assets threatened.
Corona’s disdain for the congressional furor over his SALNs is not groundless. But the open contempt, as manifested in his walkout, has raised concern that he will also walk out, so to speak, or disregard a guilty verdict from the impeachment court.
The buzz since his walkout is that he will seek a mistrial, or else run to the SC for a remedy. It is just the Senate, after all, while he is the Chief Justice of the Republic of the Philippines.