That scandal involving the seizure of counterfeit US dollars, Federal Reserve notes, treasury certificates, Liberty bonds and bullion certificates seized in Mindanao has reportedly escalated to amount to almost US$300 billion. If that's true, it will be a black mark on the Philippines and possibly lead to the US Federal Reserve Board demonetizing certain "notes" later in the year to prevent some big syndicate from flooding the marketplace with such fake bills and certificates.
The latest seizures took place last January 25 on the strength of a search warrant issued by the Hon. Editho Lucagbo, Executive Judge of Branch 43, Regional Trial Court, 10th Judicial Region, in Gingoog City.
It was a large haul, indeed, that was recovered at about 3 p.m. when police agents and representatives of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP) intercepted a red Safari van (license plate ADC-711) which was parked in front of a residence along Cabilto Extension in Gingoog.
What's interesting is that it seems the judges in Gingoog City became so "worried," they raffled off the cases to several courts.
One informant intimated that any judge handed such a "hot potato" might end up like the late Cebu Judge Martin Ocampo. What does this mean? It's still a widespread belief in the Visayas and Mindanao that, contrary to the official report, the unfortunate Judge Ocampo didn't really commit suicide in the room in which he was found in the Mactan Airport "Waterfront" Hotel, but was allegedly done in by a hired gun from a syndicate boss in Cebu.
Who can blame prosecutors, judges, and investigators for growing anxious and antsy when such an immense amount of counterfeit bills can only be handled by a powerful syndicate which boasts not merely domestic but international ties?
Government agents have just compiled a top secret report which points to several places in which the operation was being conducted outside of Gingoog, such as Cagayan de Oro, Bukidnon and Zamboanga.
There's much "pressure" reputedly being put on the Gingoog and other Mindanao cases from "upstairs", but nobody's talking. That's how grave the situation is.
The Gingoog "bust" discovered three pieces of Federal reserve certificates amounting to -- would you believe? -- US $100 million each; 10 pieces of Federal Reserve notes amounting to $100 million each; one bullion certificate amounting to $500 million; one treasury certificate amounting to $100 million; one Liberty bond insurance certificate amounting to $500 million; another treasury certificate amounting to $500 million; a Banco Sentral de l'Argentina certificate of P500,000 (equivalent to US$500,000); sundry dollar bonds, US bonds, and certificates of deposit in varying amounts, etc.
After the suspects, the driver of the red Safari and the owner of the house were arrested and charged, there was a determined effort to secure bail and a motion to quash the information and warrant of arrest on the ground that the search warrant had allegedly been "illegal." Lawyers from Manila have been "coming and going" to monitor the cases.
American intelligence agents, naturally, are also in play in the investigation of this racket which is not seen to be confined to Mindanao, since the printers and machinists are not local people -- but their names can't be revealed as yet. And what about the suspicion that security paper and watermarked paper identical to those huge stacks of paper consumed in the two recent fires at the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas mint and vault in Quezon City were utilized in the counterfeiting caper? Samples are already being checked in laboratories abroad.
The whole scenario reads like one of those international crime thrillers, but there's only one ending which can already be glimpsed -- whatever the outcome, our government can only be embarrassed by the fall-out.
The police operatives and BSP agents involved can only be commended. However, as the case widens, more than low-level agents and cops will have to be fielded by Malacañang. Otherwise, the agents "on the ground" down south won't be able to cope.
When the President made a "snap" visit yesterday to Hong Kong, following his UNCTAD-ASEAN meetings in Bangkok, he must have known that his critics would put a bad spin on it.
There's nothing wrong with making that side-trip to the Hong Kong SAR (Special Autonomous Region) to confer with bankers and investors, but why did he defiantly let it be known that he might also meet with the Macau and Hongkong-based gambling czar Stanley Ho? Sure, Stanley the Papal Knight and philantrophist might have no "links" to the Triads and might even be pure as driven snow, but it's not the President's job to seek him out in order to prove Ho's innocence.
"It's not that I am defending him," the President was quoted yesterday by our Malacañang reporter Marichu Villanueva whom The STAR assigned to cover his journey, "but this bad publicity scares away foreign investors."
He may have a point there, but what about the "bad publicity" that surrounds any proposed initiative to make the Philippines a Macau-style gambling capital of Asia?
I've quoted the Roman Emperor Vespasian before as the witty and efficient ruler whose reign lasted from A.D. 69 to 79 (the man who started building the present Colosseum, now in majestic ruin, and succeeded the profligate Nero).
The son of a tax collector, Vespasian, had what one writer called "an interesting relationship to money." He insisted on taxing everything he could see for his public works and building projects. When his son Titus, later an Emperor himself, criticized his father's decision to tax toilets (Titus exclaimed in revulsion, "Why, Father, are you taxing even urine?"), Vespasian cut him short with his famous reply, "Pecunia non olet" (Money doesn't smell). He held up to his son's nose some coins out of the first payment and asked him, sternly, whether he smelled anything bad. To which Titus stammered, "No."
Vespasian might have been right with regard to money derived from a tax on toilets. On the other hand, if the Emperor was referring to all sorts of money, he was wrong: Some money smells. And it's not from the stench of urine.
The President hinted in Bangkok last weekend that Press Secretary Rod Reyes might be the next Cabinet member to go. In the case of Rod, it certainly isn't owing to misbehavior, but because of poor health.
What we've been hearing is that he'll be given an ambassadorship, possibly the position of envoy to Taipei -- unofficially known as chairman of the Manila Economic and Cultural Office (MECO) -- since the Philippines, which observes a "One China" policy, doesn't have formal diplomatic relations with Taiwan. The Taipei "ambassadorship" was the one vacated by the recent death of former Congressman and Tourism Minister Jose A. D. Aspiras.
In any event, the President still hasn't revealed who will become the new Press Secretary. He denied a report that it could be ABS-CBN ranking executive and STAR columnist Dong Puno since, as he put it, Puno earns a great deal and would suffer financially if he took such a post -- a way of sidestepping the issue without offending Dong.
In fact, Malacañang has been shopping around for a successor to head the Press Office from "outside." (Bad news for Ike Gutierrez who has coveted the post for a long time, unless he becomes a consolation candidate).
I was asked, confidentially, whom I would recommend for the Press Secretaryship, but demurred. If this Publisher had suggested somebody, might not the STAR have been compelled, at least in principle, to uphold him when such a "candidate" made mistakes in the future or proved palpak? The late President Diosdado Macapagal asked me to be his Press Secretary when he was elected, but I convinced the late Rufino "Fenny" Hechanova to take on that Cabinet post instead, and afterwards he moved on to become Finance Secretary and Executive Secretary.
I hope that a good man (or woman) is finally designated. It's an extremely difficult job, particularly when dealing with some prima donnas in media, or gadflies and the inevitable nitpickers. Journalism, by its nature, is essentially "adversarial", and a Press Secretary (as I warned Fenny) must be a shock absorber and punching bag. Both a Press Secretary and a Presidential Spokesperson have an extra-difficult mission in the Estrada Palace as well. They must second-guess the President, and be prepared to be denied later.
Rod coped by simply "smiling through", but he had a special relationship with Sir Erap. The media was kind to him, too, and concentrated their barbs and arrows on Jerry Barican who had the propensity to testily respond in kind.
The new Press Secretary must be in a position not merely to deal with a truculent media, but "advise" an embattled Erap as well on how to handle his encounters with the press. (Then, there are the day-to-day intrigues inside the Puzzle Palace itself).
Speaking of the late "Sunshine Joe" Aspiras, who was almost universally liked (he, too, smiled all the time), there was a fast-break resolution shoved through the House of Representatives to rename the "Marcos Highway" which runs from his hometown of Agoo (La Union) to Baguio City the "Aspiras Highway" in his posthumous honor. The resolution was passed around for signature so swiftly by Baguio Rep. Bernard Vergara (who actually hails from San Esteban, Ilocos Sur) that, when it came to her desk, Ilocos Norte Congresswoman, Imee R. Marcos (2nd district) affixed her signature to it without looking at the contents of what she was signing. She ruefully admitted to friends, later, that she didn't realize it was a resolution changing the name of that highway from that of her late father's, Apo Ferdinand Marcos, to that of Joe Aspiras.
"You know how it goes in Congress," Imee sheepishly smiled. "Members of the House usually sign things without looking." (Erap, hindi ka nag-iisa). There was an outcry from quite a number of Ilocanos and Baguio people later, it was said, when they realized what had been done -- so, it looks like a compromise will be reached. From what I hear, the highway will be called "Aspiras Highway" from Agoo to halfway up, and retain the name of "Marcos Highway" the rest of the way.
As former President Eddie Ramos would have put it (one of his favorite phrases), a Solomonic decision is being hatched -- with the highway, not the Biblical baby this time, cut in half.