Just tiis

Justice Gregory Ong, dismissed from the Sandiganbayan for the worst reason, can still appeal his case. Even in the unlikely event that the Supreme Court (SC) flip-flops on his ouster, however, the verdict in the court of public opinion isn’t going to be reversed: guilty.

The people’s judgment is much less nuanced than the SC ruling, which found fault in Ong for improper conduct in dealing with businesswoman Janet Lim-Napoles, accused mastermind of the pork barrel scam.

Ong’s administrative case did not involve the pork barrel. But whistle-blowers in the scam accused Ong of receiving millions in payoffs from Napoles for favorable decisions in the Sandiganbayan’s Fourth Division, where he was a member and which he later chaired. Among the cases was one for malversation through falsification of public documents for Napoles’ 1998 sale of 500 Kevlar helmets to the Philippine Marines. Napoles was acquitted.

The SC order of dismissal stated that there was insufficient evidence to prove the payoffs. But in the mind of the public, Ong was fired for precisely this. And people are waiting for the Office of the Ombudsman to pursue a criminal complaint against him in connection with the alleged payoffs.

No one can miss the irony of a justice of the anti-graft court being fired for violating the code of conduct for government employees, with the possibility of prosecution for corruption.

It’s ugly proof of the rot in the judiciary. At the same time, however, Ong’s dismissal from the service bodes well for judicial reforms.

The disgrace has to be the second worst in the judiciary, after the dismissal of Renato Corona as chief justice following his conviction in an impeachment trial.

And if we will extend the meaning of magistrates to include those who sit in judgment during an impeachment trial, Corona’s fate may be matched by the fall of the chairman of the impeachment court, Juan Ponce Enrile, and two of his peers – with more expected by the public to follow – on accusations of plunder.

A common question these days is whether the fates of Ong and Corona will put the fear of God – or at least of the SC and an impeachment court – into the hearts of the so-called hoodlums in robes.

Cynics say that our society is notoriously resistant to change, and this is especially true in government service.

Optimists, on the other hand, point out that even a tiny stream can slowly but relentlessly alter the face of a mountain.

Perhaps the rills can turn into a river if those accused of wrongdoing in the judiciary are prosecuted, convicted, and actually end up behind bars instead of being pardoned ASAP.

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The terms “hoodlums in robes” and “fix-cals” have been around for a long time. But the terms became even more popular when Joseph Estrada declared war on crooked magistrates and prosecutors. This was, of course, before a scandal over jueteng payola cut short Erap’s presidency, leading to his house arrest and conviction for plunder.

The accusations against Ong have a depressingly familiar ring. Investors have complained about similar stories of corrupted courts.

As always when we feel helpless and frustrated, we crack jokes. Litigants are routinely admonished that in this country, it’s good to know the law, but it’s better to know the judge. There are justices; litigants are “just-tiis” (broad translation: just grin and bear it).

We like to say that we have the best justice that money can buy, starting with the notorious temporary restraining order. Even the Supreme Court has been criticized in the past for issuing TROs that are anything but temporary.

It seems that in the SC at least, the TRO has been renamed the status quo ante. Whether the status quo will be maintained beyond a reasonable definition of temporary remains to be seen.

The failure to get justice in a system that favors moneyed litigants has been one of the reasons why insurgencies persist in this country.

Corruption in the judiciary means weakness in the rule of law, and an environment that turns away job-generating investments, hinders economic growth and allows poverty to fester.

I’ve heard many horror stories of businessmen paying off a judge for a TRO and getting the order, only to see it reversed later after the other party pays more. Or else paying a fortune for a favorable court decision, only to see the case elevated to a higher court and ending up in a division headed by a justice known to be friendly to the other side.

Corruption has to be one of the reasons for the glacial pace of Philippine justice – apart from sheer inefficiency and individual incompetence.

The slow pace of justice is an injustice and bad news for all aspects of life in this country. Why does it take two decades to settle a business dispute or ownership issue? Will it really take 200 years to resolve with finality the cases filed in connection with the 2009 Maguindanao massacre?

It’s not unusual for defendants, particularly the poor who can’t afford bail, to languish in jail while their case is being tried, far longer than the maximum sentence allowed for their offense. This is a grave injustice particularly for the innocent.

The weakness of the justice system is also one of the biggest reasons why Filipinos tend to look the other way when cops gun down suspected kidnappers, carjackers, child rapists and other lowlifes. Never mind if formal charges have not yet been filed against those killed.

It’s the same reason why jumping to conclusions, as we like to say, is a national pastime: if we wait for due process to take its course, we might be dead before a decisive conclusion is reached and the courts hand down a final verdict.

In the case of Gregory Ong, the public is again jumping to the conclusion that he is guilty as charged, on all accusations.