LIKE the legendary Irish, Sen. Chiz Escudero has been blessed with the gift of gab.  He put this unique talent to use last week to illustrate a fine point of law in the impeachment trial of Chief Justice Renato Corona.

The Senate impeachment court stood at a pivotal point in the trial.  The Supreme Court had just issued a temporary restraining order (TRO) stopping the enforcement of a Senate subpoena which would have allowed the opening of an alleged foreign currency deposit account of Mr. Corona.

The bank had gone to the Supreme Court to seek relief. It told the court that the law authorizing foreign currency deposits guaranteed confidentiality and violators would be criminally liable.  In passing the law, Congress had waned depositors to keep their money in confidential accounts so that these could be used for long-term economic development.

The Supreme Court agreed with the bank and gave it temporary relief.  The hotheads in the Senate said the court was intruding into the impeachment trial and subverting the power of the Senate to try impeachment cases exclusively.

Judicial review

Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile ruled that the court may look into “interlocutory” or incidental aspects to the trial under its expanded power of judicial review granted by the 1987 Constitution.  But the Senate’s decision on the trial itself is not appealable. The Senate voted 13-10 to follow the court’s TRO for the meantime.

The Senate vote was crucial because it upheld the foreign currency deposit law and probably averted a potentially debilitating bank run, which happened during the impeachment trial of President Joseph Estrada.  More significantly, the Senate averted a possible constitutional crisis pitting it against the highest tribunal of the land.

Among the 13 who voted to uphold the court was Senator Escudero.  He explained his vote by telling a metaphorical story which drove home the point: that in our pursuit of a rat we must take care not to burn the entire house down.  In our zeal to find justice for Mr. Corona, there are larger issues that transcend the case.

Among these larger issues are the great constitutional principles of the Rule of Law, separation of powers, due process, presumption of innocence, and other rights guaranteed by the Constitution to protect ordinary citizens like us against the awesome powers of a tyrannical State.

Math tutorial

Not coincidentally after the Senate vote, President Aquino expressed impatience over the progress of the trial he himself initiated in the House of Representatives. Armed with a PowerPoint presentation, Mr. Aquino did the math himself and concluded that Mr. Corona’s total income in the government service did not match the value of the properties he has accumulated.

Amazed by this breach of presidential courtesy for the ongoing Senate trial, Mr. Corona’s lawyers responded by telling Mr. Aquino to hold his horses  the defense panel will present the legitimate sources of Mr. Corona’s income when their turn comes at the trial.

Mr. Aquino’s impetuous cavalry charge straight into the ramparts of the Senate impeachment court, with saber unsheathed, provoked a similar reaction from the Chief Justice, who hails from Batangas, the province famous for its legendary swithblade called balisong. 

Metaphocically, Mr. Corona unfurled his balisong and went straight for the President’s jugular.  Mr. Aquino should likewise bare his assets and include his psychological tests to attest to his sanity.  No such tests, the Palace retorted.

At the rate Messrs. Aquino and Corona are going for each other’s throat, they may just succeed in bringing down the judiciary, the legislature, the presidency and the economy, to boot. Time for another animal story.

Menagerie

In grade school, whenever our class started to lose its concentration (which happened every other minute), teacher with the horn-rimmed eyeglasses would whisk out her old reliable animal stories to make us regain our focus.

One story never lost its edge.  In fact, it kept us riveted to our seats.  It was the story of “The Scorpion and the Frog.”  Here is how it goes:       

Pain in the rain

One particularly rainy day, the waters began to rise on the island where lived a scorpion and a frog.  Natural enemies, they had achieved a sort of modus vivendi on the little island. The scorpion had a poisonous bite, which made the frog wary. And the scorpion was suspicious of the frog’s tongue, which could snatch prey in the blink of an eye.

As the waters continued to rise, the patch of ground where the two stood grew smaller until they were within striking distance of each other. The scorpion knew the frog could swim. The scorpion decided to make peace.

“Froggie,” the scorpion said, “may I interest you in a proposal you cannot refuse?”

The frog replied, “And what is that?

“Well.” said the scorpion, “if you save me from drowning, I promise to help you catch prey if we both survive.”

“Go on,” the frog said.

“”When it is time to leave the island, will you allow me to ride on your back?”

“You must be crazy!” screamed the frog. “What do you take me for, a dodo?”

Sting

“I promise to behave,” said the scorpion.  “If I bite you while you are swimming to shore, you will drown, and then I, too, will die. What will it profit me to do that?”

The frog thought for a while and, convinced the scorpion made sense, agreed. “Let’s go!” it said.

Soon the frog was swimming with the scorpion perched on its back. Then it felt a stinging bite.  It soon realized what had happened.

“You idiot,” the frog screamed at the scorpion. “Now we will both die.”

“I know,” said the scorpion remorsefully. “But I couldn’t help myself.  It is my nature.”

I remember this story to this day because of the power of a good story told well, like Senator Escudero’s fascinating metaphorical rat.

I had occasion to leaf through the browned pages of  old books recently when I wrote a piece on hubris, a concept that fascinated both the Greeks and Shakespeare.  The idea can be summarized in two sayings: “After the pride comes the fall” and “Whom the gods wish to destroy they first make mad.”

Fatal flaw

It amazes me endlessly that one short word, hubris,  could capture the richness of such stories as Julius Caesar, or Hamlet -- this concept of otherwise heroic men marching recklessly to their doom because of pride and/or insanity,

There is a third element to the word which further enriches its texture: the idea that these heroic characters somehow knew -- or at least sensed -- the impending doom that awaited them. But each threw caution to the wind and tempted fate recklessly.

Then I remembered the scorpion story and understood why.  These tragic heroes of enormous proportions were really nothing more than overgrown frogs doomed to die by the bite of a scorpion that couldn’t help but follow its nature.