Gentlemen

They no longer make them like they used to.

Perhaps the only edifying aspect of the otherwise tedious Senate impeachment trial is the demeanor of two senior gentlemen playing large roles in these proceedings: Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile and former justice Serafin Cuevas. Observe how these two true gentlemen of the old school conduct themselves under the cruel glare of an intensely observed process.

Their choice of words is always exact. Their mental faculties, advanced age notwithstanding, are constantly acute. Their knowledge of the law is exceedingly evident. Their capacity for politeness and humility, despite their stature, is inspiring.

I am amazed at how these two gentlemen are able to muster the stamina to do what they do. Routinely, after each exhausting session, they make themselves available for interviews, always unflappable whatever question is thrown them. Neither of the two gentlemen have, so far, lost their cool under intense pressure nor produced a gaffe of any notable proportion. They hold their poise with remarkable discipline.

Sen. Enrile has so far presided over the trial with a firm hand, setting a very high standard of statesmanship for the chamber without stifling his colleagues. His opening statement is a classic. A lesser statesman might have said lesser things and this delicate process might have been doomed from the start. Well into the trial, he has been universally praised for demonstrating fairness and even-handedness.

We are fortunate to have him as Senate President during this unseemly season. A lesser mind and a porous personality leading the chamber at this time might have allowed the Senate to crumble under the intense pressure bearing in from all sides.

 Enrile understands fully well that this unprecedented impeachment of the head of a co-equal branch of government needs to be credible above all, regardless of the outcome. If the chamber is overrun by partisanship, then all is lost. All our institutions will equally fall into disrepute and the mobs will rule our lives.

Serafin Cuevas, we all know, is a lawyer’s lawyer. The man has a long and brilliant record at both bar and bench. He is both professor and practitioner. His mind is quick and his knowledge vast.

Through all these years, it is clear the man has not lost his touch. He is eloquent as he is patient, taking the time to explain the complex issues to laymen. His mind is powerful and his enthusiasm inexhaustible. Each time he speaks, it is an educational experience for all who listen.

There are few like him who manages to intimidate even before he speaks. Those puny characters at the prosecution panel, the punks who so casually lend themselves to disrespect when they are out of court, are clearly terrified by his presence at the venue of trial. They are trying to find a way to disqualify him on the ground that, as a retired justice receiving a pension, he should not extend his services to one supposedly accused by The People.

If they had their way, administration propagandists might have gone to town attempting to drag Cuevas to the mud as they have done to his principal. They are, after all, in the daily business of nailing to the cross anyone who speaks an independent mind and nurses an adverse opinion.

But even the feeble-minded apparatchiks of the mammoth administration propaganda apparatus realize that Cuevas is a man of solid reputation and sterling record. Prosecution spokesman Miro Quimbo once tried to be cute during a TV interview and described the lead defense counsel as one experienced in defending criminals, mocking a slip of the tongue. Viewer reaction at that utterly cheap shot was swift and angry. Quimbo merely succeeded in demeaning himself in the public eye. If he thinks he is smart, he should try tangling with Cuevas on the floor and within the strict parameters of legal argument.

For his part, Cuevas realizes he is not just defending a man. He is defending an institution.

The very survival of the rule of law in our society relies a lot on his ability to forestall the lynching mob: those who signed articles of impeachment without reading them, who besmirched the Chief Justice without evidence on hand, and who now use the trial as a means to fish for derogatory information of any sort.

Because of the circumstances, this is the trial of Serafin Cuevas’ long and illustrious life. The master of the law must now also be the champion for the rule of law. He has a heroic role to play here and it is clear he relishes the chance to do so. We can only wish him a long life.

Enrile and Cuevas, most gentlemen of the old school, are equally a pleasure to observe through this tedious trial. They are accomplished men of equal caliber carrying on their tireless shoulders the task of upholding the highest standards of statesmanship at a time when philistines run amuck.

For both of them, at the dusk of their colorful careers, this trial is their last great chance to be true patriots. There can be no more glorious motive for them to carry on with their respective tasks with aplomb.

The exceeding qualities of these two gentlemen are only underscored by the utter lack of quality of most of those who compose the prosecution panel. Those charged with prosecuting haphazardly railroaded articles of impeachment distress us with their utter lack of preparation, their ineloquence, their crude demeanor and by their overpowering disdain for the basic rules of fairness, honesty and respect.

We can only hope their crudeness does not represent an entire generation, only a particular political fashion.