For several days since the senate trial of Chief Justice Renato Corona started, I have tried not to make any comment on the case. After all, it has become sub judice or under judicial consideration.
I am fully aware that no comment I make will influence the outcome of the proceedings but allow me to contribute my two cents worth.
On the issue of ill-gotten wealth, I have this to say: If Corona is indeed not guilty and has nothing to hide, why is he preventing the disclosure of his dollar account with PSBank? It is obvious that he influenced the 8 justices of the Supreme Court who voted in favour of the issuance of the TRO (Temporary Restraining Order).
The Supreme Court stopped the Senate, acting as an impeachment court, from compelling PSBank to present documents on the foreign currency deposits of Chief Justice Renato Corona.
Section 2 of Republic Act 1405 reads:
“All deposits of whatever nature with banks or banking institutions in the Philippines . . . are hereby considered as of an absolutely confidential nature and may not be examined, inquired or looked into by any person, government official, bureau or office, except upon written permission of the depositor, or in cases of impeachment, or upon order of a competent court in cases of bribery or dereliction of duty of public officials, or in cases where the money deposited or invested is the subject matter of the litigation.”
Armando Chavez, an erstwhile contributor to this newspaper wrote: “It is very sad indeed that in our home country, the most clearly defined laws of the land, the most fundamental rules of decency, even immutable mathematical equations and divinely ordained tenets, are bent, twisted, stretched, and broken with little regard for logic.”
What is most illogical is the very definition of a TRO. It is meant to be TEMPORARY. But in this particular case, Marquez, a spokesman of the Supreme Court, said that the TRO is INDEFINITE. Now, that defies human wisdom! It insults the intelligence of every Filipino who is closely monitoring the case.
By the way, pardon me for name dropping but Renato Corona is no stranger to this writer. He is the younger brother of Arturo Corona, a contemporary of mine at the Ateneo de Manila University. I last spoke to Renato in the late 90s at the Philippine House in Elizabeth Bay NSW when former Consul General Ariel Abadilla was based in Sydney. I am no longer proud to have met Renato. — Dino Crescini