Perhaps we need yet another subcommittee, this time to hear testimonies related to the plunder complaint filed against Senate President Franklin Drilon.
Manuel Mejorada, a former Iloilo provincial administrator and once close associate of Drilon, filed a complaint with the Ombudsman. Included in this complaint are the Pubic Works Secretary, the Tourism Secretary, and a host of lesser officials involved in approvals for the Iloilo Convention Center.
Mejorada claims the P700 million building is overpriced to the tune of P488 million. The convention center is a pet project of the Senate President. A large portion of the building’s price tag was funded from Drilon’s pork barrel.
There are a few striking similarities between the controversial Makati “parking building” and the Iloilo project. Not the least of these similarities is the fact that the project was bid out to the same contractor, Hilmarc’s Construction Corp..
There are dissimilarities as well. In the Iloilo project, Hilmarc’s opted to drop out of the bidding for the second phase of the project, presumably because of the controversy the convention center has been attracting. The contractor that subsequently won the bid for the second phase of the project was disqualified. The project could be at a standstill for a while.
The convention center is said to be Drilon’s monument to himself, reminding all Ilonggos they once had a son with so much access to pork. If work on this project grinds to a halt because of the controversy, this could end up as another monument to waste, not unlike the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant.
If this project is somehow completed, despite the controversy, it might as well be called a monument to the power of pork. The pork barrel allows entirely useless things to be built, whether they are magnificent arches marking provincial or municipal boundaries or convention centers that will likely be idle 99% of the time.
Now that the pork barrel is, at least in principle, abolished for being unconstitutional, the funds saved from useless projects might be used for more meaningful infra. Instead of monuments to vainglorious politicians, we might have better ports to help spur economic activity.
A few years ago, Cebu built its own convention center. At least, in this previous case, Cebu found an excuse in hosting a summit meeting of regional leaders. Since that summit meeting, however, the convention center has been sitting idle most of the time, its expensive upkeep draining the local government’s budget. There is no evidence this magnificent center helped spur economic activity in the province.
If Iloilo wanted to draw business flows, it might have been a better bet to build a world-class casino. The large spanking new casinos that sprung up along the Pasay reclamation area appear to be doing rather well. The market for gambling (or perhaps money-laundering) seems vast.
Casinos, however, could not justify the deployment of pork barrel funds. If such deployment does not happen, leakages in the form of kickbacks and commissions will not happen as well.
Investigate
It is, to be sure, the Ombudsman’s principal responsibility to investigate the goings-on at the Iloilo Convention Center. Any other agency, especially from the legislative branch, getting into the act might be perceived as usurping the Ombudsman’s role.
This consideration does not, however, discourage the Senate from usurping the investigative functions of constitutional bodies or executive agencies if it is politically profitable for legislators to do so. The temptation to indulge in political burlesque is simply overpowering.
From what we have seen in the case of the Binay inquiry, all it takes are three conspiring senators to convene a “subcommittee” unrestrained by the rest of the chamber and sustain a political telenovela of prejudgment, ample hearsay, senatorial bullying and slippery pronouncements.
The beauty of a “subcommittee” (especially a rogue one) is that it is unbridled. Ungoverned by the standard rules on evidence, it could smear at will. It could be completely selective and partisan in its choice of witnesses, shooing away those who might say things that break from the narrative the subcommittee wants to weave.
A subcommittee allows ambitious legislators to hog the limelight. By pulling the right strings, it could win limitless (and free) media exposure. It allows legislators the opportunity to posture, to hector, to badger, to browbeat, and, yes, to say the occasional stupid things.
By invoking the powers of the chamber, the subcommittee could issue subpoenas, hold people in contempt and bring in the fearsome bureaucrats (such as the chief tax collector) to add an air of authoritativeness to all the things the subcommittee chooses to do (as well as terrorize witnesses who hedge on their testimonies, especially if they are businessmen). The senators involved in such a gig can make their pettiest peeves sound really important.
But there needs to be one element present for a subcommittee to get away with its gig, to usurp the Ombudsman’s role without the constitutional agency objecting, to call in the COA and order around the Anti-Money Laundering Council: the target of the investigation must not be an ally of the administration.
Otherwise, bureaucrats might be reluctant to cooperate and Palace spokesmen might bitch about the proceedings getting in the way of “due process.” The President himself might mutter a word or two about the redundant investigation, the presumption of guilt, the need to refocus senatorial energies on things more important for the nation.
So, might another subcommittee come to life to investigate the charges leveled against Drilon?
I will not bet on that.