Honasan seems to be having difficulty letting go of his military career. He confessed as much in his privileged speech shortly after the Oakwood mutiny; he was at heart a soldier, he said, and he never really got the hang of being a legislator.
And there lies the problem with Gregorio Honasan. He wants the prestige, title and perks – not to mention the multimillion-peso pork barrel – of a senator, but not its immense responsibilities and the work required of a lawmaker. That speech he delivered on the Senate floor shortly after the mutiny was the only afternoon since Congress opened a month ago that he put in something akin to work. The rest of the time he has spent on the run, basking in the publicity that he never enjoyed as an unimpressive legislator.
The tragedy of this nation is that people who already know they are unworthy of the honor of becoming lawmakers still run for the Senate. And the greater tragedy is that such characters manage to get elected – although in the case of Honasan, the tailender in the last Senate elections, he could still get unseated if an election case against him prospers.
If the nation lost crucial momentum after the 1986 people power revolt, one of the biggest culprits was Honasan. A succession of coup attempts staged by Honasan and his band dampened investments and hobbled every effort to jump-start an economy left in tatters by the Marcos dictatorship. You’d think Honasan would have regretted all that mischief and be grateful to a nation that has given him the chance to be an honorable public servant. Instead he’s once again reveling in notoriety, undergoing what has to be a prolonged, virulent mid-life crisis.