Estrada’s tack, it seems, is to spread the guilt around. By association, he implicated spiritual adviser Mike Velarde, budget chief Ben Diokno, family friends Manny Zamora and Yolly Ricaforte, and drinking buddies Atong Ang and Sel Yulo. To hang on to power, he appears conspiring with Sen. Nene Pimentel and Rep. Noli Fuentebella to delay his impeachment trial. To present an image of a reformed man, he is demonizing benefactors Lucio Tan, Mark Jimenez, Manny Pangilinan and William Gatchalian. He is gambling the reputations of Cabinet secretaries Boy Morales, Fred Lim, Dong Puno, Ronnie Zamora, Ed Angara, Robert Aventajado, Jose Pardo in vain attempts to score points with the poor masses.
A parallel tack is to pull down an erstwhile respected Congress with him. Estrada proclaims to want speedy trial, yet Fuentebella, seconds after election as Speaker, was talking of recalling the Articles of Impeachment earlier transmitted to the Senate, and even reconstituting the 11-man panel of prosecutors to include their partymates. Pimentel too, upon election as Senate President, said with shifty eyes that it’d take a month to promulgate the trial rules, when only the day before he was saying the trial itself won’t drag to Christmas. Estrada’s message is clear, to rub in as he meets today with Asia-Pacific leaders: I’ve got Congress feeding from my palm.
His lawyers claim bewilderment with Estrada’s talkativeness. Only he knows who else he’ll drag in the coming days into his leaky defense of corruption, bribery, culpable violation of the Constitution, and betrayal of public trust. Will it be his own sons and mistresses? His banker, perhaps, plus some cronies, their clerks, and concocted Muslim scholars? The only thing apparent now is the philosophy in life of the one-time actor of tough-guy roles: When the going gets rough, it’s every man to himself.
One wonders what his kin, pals and aides are thinking now. Will they just grin and bear what Estrada is saying? But what if the Senate calls them to testify, will they corroborate what he proclaimed or implied about them? As he vainly tries to govern, will they go along with his increasingly expensive yet empty projects? And on the day of reckoning, when they are made to account for what he said are their sins of commission or omission, will they perjure and obstruct justice? Will they go to jail for him?
Opposition leader Sonny Belmonte notes that Estrada’s stories are full of holes. The accused blames on Serapio, De Guzman and Ricaforte the nagging presence of P200 million in jueteng bribes in his bank account. He says it was Lacson’s job to arrest Chavit Singson, insinuating that the PNP chief is a loafer for failing to do so to this day. He claims that all those mansions are owned by Yulo, Manny Zamora and other rich pals, thus implying that they’re living it up despite his calls long ago for austerity during these difficult times. He vows to junk his cronies, in effect casting doubt on all deals made by Tan, Pangilinan, Gatchalian, Jimenez during his tenure. He rambles that Singson tried to bribe him early on with P200 million in tobacco taxes, thus raising the question why Diokno released it to "that jueteng lord" to begin with. Yet Estrada keeps skirting the big issue: Why did he keep the money even after he supposedly found out it was a bribe? Serapio’s subsequent testimony – that they have yet to prove if it’s dirty money – doesn’t wash. For Estrada already said he will present it as "solid evidence" of bribery by Singson.
It’s difficult to defend the nebulous. Puno can only stammer the line that Estrada made the media rounds because "he’s chafing at the bit" from advice to shut up till his lawyers present him – if at all – in Senate trials. "He wishes he could say a lot more instead of a guarded approach to answering questions," Puno fidgets. "So essentially what he did was risk the ire of his lawyers by coming out with information that at least gives a little bit more perspective. As a lawyer, I know the danger of a partial explanation. So the problem is, we have bits and pieces, a patchwork of unrecognizable stuff."
Too late, fellow-lawyer Ronnie Zamora shakes his head. The bar-topnotcher moans that his boss can’t take back the extrajudicial confession he gave in a series of taped interviews. Meaning, Estrada can’t undo how he incriminated the persons who wish to support him till the bitter end.
The end is near for Estrada, and those who love him and feel close to him. A case of plunder has been filed against him, with some of them as accomplices and accessories. The crime is nonbailable and carries the penalty of death. Upon indictment, they all – except the sitting President – will be issued hold-departure orders and arrest warrants. They will live in jail while on trial, and we all know what depravities go on in our jails. So, will they, must they, go to jail for him? Or should they reflect on their fates and do what’s best for themselves?
Jay Entruda, Iowa: With his extrajudicial confession that he still keeps the P200 million that Singsongave him last year, Erap has put his Senate and House defenders in a spot (Gotcha, 11 Nov. 2000). They should advise him to resign.
J.R. Borgonia, rocketmail.com: Whether or not the money is intact, mere possession of stolen or illegal money – or any item, for that matter – is a crime. Whether or not you know it’s stolen, it’s still illegal; ignorance is no excuse. If he’s that ignorant, all the more Erap shouldn’t hold on to office. That’s the risk with lies, they contradict each other and paint the liar to a corner to admit crime unintentionally and use ignorance as excuse. Any sane person wouldn’t accept any item of considerable value unless he intends to keep it for himself. Not using it immediately isn’t a point; a bank robber can’t tell the court he hasn’t spent his loot. Everything now makes sense, thanks to Erap himself: (1) a Muslim foundation with no Muslim as officer or a single Muslim beneficiary or that any Muslim has heard about, but incorporated recently to receive P200 million "donated" a year ago; (2) a commander-in-chief who was too busy to arrest a jueteng lord who allegedly tried to bribe him; (3) money that he made no effort to return.
Bart Reyes, licensed real estate appraiser-broker, Mandaluyong: In answer to the letter of reader Ricardo Galanao (Interaction, 11 Nov. 2000), the rent for a resort-mansion in New Manila is P90,000-P120,000 for unfurnished, P150,000 for furnished and with the reported amenities. With the security deposit and advance rent, the amount would be anomalous, and the very act of leasing it is betrayal of public trust.
Ben Bie, aol.com: Re the Erap shindig at Luneta, does he understand the meaning of separation of Church and Estate?
Thank you, Victor Gaudencio, Ariel Rabe, Gino Chan, Janet Sunga, Rory Pagdanganan, Hilda Varona, Nilo Orocio, Thess Fernandez, Susan, Guledew-Foronda, D.C. Mungcal, Wesner Almin, Grace Sison, Nonong Ramirez, Manny Leno, Victor Sumagaysay, Tony Cagalawan, Lito Diwa, Hermie Zuniga, Dr. Manuel Eugenio, Pastor Nes, Paquito Sasuman, Dr. Jose Melilla, Mimin Lapating, Bessie Alcira, Hiro Vaswani, A.F. Cabaero.