“We are called upon to make a choice between right and wrong. We meant not to destroy a man but to destroy the evils that plague our system”—thus elucidated the prosecution’s closing argument during the end of former Chief Justice Renato Corona’s impeachment trial. Despite the fact that they were able to convince the court to unseat Corona from his post, one cannot help but maintain an air of doubt as to whether or not such a speech was nothing more than mere courtroom theatrics.
It seems that the former chief justice was not the only guilty party in this entire debacle. The whole story has just as much to do with his detractors.
Corona’s guilty verdict will not be the only thing that shall be remembered from this narrative. The prosecution’s inconsistency, for one, deserves as much spite as that given to the former chief justice himself. It is important, for example, to take note that Corona’s trial began with eight articles of impeachment. After 44 days, the prosecution was only really trying to have him convicted on the charge of one article, with two articles seemingly remaining for cosmetic purposes and the other five articles dropped entirely.
When the prosecution withdrew the mentioned five articles during the second half of the trial, what emerged was a clear mockery of the impeachment process provided for by law. In the first place, why would they accuse a man with serious crimes—with so much drama and flair—and not stand their ground on the matter until the very end? If they based such withdrawn articles on faulty and unsubstantiated evidence, all they did was to baselessly undermine an institution of the people they had sworn to protect—not to mention act in complete disregard of Corona’s rights as a citizen. This shows a clear failure to follow due process in the trial. At its best, the whole affair was a political circus that counts as a serious blow to the rule of law—the people’s last and strongest recourse against, for example, the abusive politicians the impeachment trial acquainted us with.
After all, if our government cannot follow due process when dealing with the head of a co-equal branch of government—which any semblance of righteousness in governance would dictate—how can we expect it to respect the right to due process of any other citizen?
Perhaps Corona knew better than all of us that those who sought his downfall were nothing more than mere hypocrites. This could be the reason why he chose to sign his unconditional waiver. It was the former chief justice’s last-ditch effort to open our eyes to the sheer preposterousness of his opponents’ self-righteous grandstanding.
Until the very end, however, the prosecution has portrayed the trial as a fight of good versus evil. It suffices to say that one needs to take a closer look at these people who are practically styling themselves as “good.”
Really, it is too soon for anyone in this whole affair to be labeling themselves as on the righteous side. Time has a way of opening a can of worms. Only history can declare which characters are malevolent or moral in a narrative.
Besides, Corona’s opponents must understand that their blatant disregard for due process as provided for by law not only cost them any historical claim to righteousness. It has also forever left a shadow of doubt about the verdict they fought tooth and nail for.