Until last Friday’s sensational unmasking of the real "Jose Velarde", Malacañang was confidently peddling a January acquittal scenario. According to the spinmeisters, this would be preceded by some cosmetic changes in the Cabinet before the end of the year. Farther down looms some kind of "soft landing" for the embattled head-of-state.
Either President Estrada would get that extra propellant to last out his term till 2004. Or if he has to exit from power, he would face less humiliating conditions than the ones that drove out Ferdinand Marcos in 1986.
The key assumption, of course, was that the Senate impeachment trial would fall short of producing a ‘smoking gun" or incontestable proof that Estrada was guilty of bribery or any of the three other high crimes he’s standing trial for. So what if his popularity continues to wane, the long-faltering economy goes into recession, and opposition forces riot in the streets? Estrada would just stonewall and buy himself more time to grab back the political initiative. But should the need for flight ever arise, he would certainly have a say about the manner and terms of his departure.
For some 12 trial days, the prosecution brought out Estrada’s former buddy and partner-in-crime, Luis "Chavit’ Singson, and a whole panoply of witnesses claiming that the President had been on the take from illegal gambling and diversions from the tobacco excise tax in the total amount of over P530 million. But the evidence they churned out seemed far from damning and also of the kind of the prosecution loved to hoot down as mere hearsay. What was coming across to the nation was an exasperating case of "Estrada says, Chavit says" and the hell about who’s telling the truth.
Then came Clarissa Ocampo’s dramatic testimony in the last hours of the day before the Senate impeachment court was scheduled to take a long Christmas break. It was like the parting of the Red Sea.
From acquittal frenzy, the mood in Malacañang turned to outright horror unheard and unseen since the Nov. 4th all-out opposition rally that some insiders said almost sent the dispirited Estrada packing into exile.
As the brave and comely Eaquitable Bank-PCI trust officer unequivocally identified "Jose Velarde" as no other than Estrada, the presidential family was having a Thanksgiving Mass in the Palace grounds. You could see from the long faces of the accused, the First Lady, the First Daughter and the Cabinet loyalists that this was a critically-wounded dispensation straining harder than usual to present a brave face to the nation.
Potentially the most damaging evidence so far presented against Estrada, the Velarde account will – at the very least – compel Estrada to take the witness chair. The charade about his wish to face his accusers, if not for the objections of his lawyers, would have to be dropped.
So positive was Ocampo’s identification of Velarde-Estrada and so apparently solid her reputation for professional competence and integrity that the President stands to be damned if he appeared in court and damned if he doesn’t appear. It is a no-win situation. The world will say he’s a coward if he doesn’t show up. If he does, he will have to survive a handwriting test and, most important, demolish Ocampo’s seemingly immense credibility.
Whether the ten votes the pro-Estrada camp pulled together in Friday’s crunch would hold after Ocampo’s bombshell is anybody’s guess. A minimum of eight Estrada loyalists are required to produce an acquittal.
And lest we forget, what about Jaime Dichaves, the presidential crony who had loudly proclaimed that he was Jose Velarde? Was he telling a total lie? If so, who asked him to take the rap?
The President’s lawyers aren’t among the nation’s best that money can buy for nothing. From Titong Mendoza’s sneering looks to Andres Narvasa’s bearish snarls to Jose Flaminiano’s unrelenting objections to Sieg Fortun’s gladiatorial stance, it’s obvious the prosecution will face non-stop carpet bombing in terms of legal objections, obfuscations and tricks of the trade. More and more, private prosecutors will have to be brought in to assist congressmen who are either non-lawyers or whose skills have gone to pot.
All this spells lengthy delays and ugly confrontations such as the Friday showdown that saw the pro-Estrada senators frantically summoning back their absent heavy-hitters, John Osmeña and Johnny Ponce Enrile.
One defense source says they expect the trial to drag into March or deep into the 2001 campaign season. Aside from Ocampo, the prosecution has lined up at least six more surprise witnesses, including bank lawyer Manuel Curato, Estrada lawyer Fernando Chua and former presidential chief-of-staff Aprodicio Lacquian who’s due to fly in from Canada.
Unless the trial is overtaken by events, it looms as the nation’s answer to Rosalinda and Marimar combined. Estrada’s resignation, forced or voluntary, may bring about some economic recovery but it will abruptly put an end to free entertainment of the kind that makes poor nations poorer.