Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Panganiban: Judicial greatness

To arrive at a decision, most judges simply apply the law to the facts by using the formula: law times fact equals decision, or LxF=D. This formula is espoused by the Analytical School of Jurisprudence pioneered by John Austin.

Abstraction vs reality. This is the same formula consciously or unconsciously taught in most law schools. Students are told to master the Constitution, codes, statutes, rules of procedure and precedents, and to apply them to hypothetical facts. Verba legis or the strict literal meaning of the legal texts is a must. To take liberties with words is denounced as “judicial legislation.”

When verba legis produces a bad result, textualists wash their hands and shrug it off as “dura lex sed lex” (the law may be harsh, but it is the law). They then pass the blame to lawmakers.

This formula reduces decision-making to an Aristotelian syllogism with the law (L) as the major premise, the facts (F) as the minor premise, and the decision (D) as the conclusion of the syllogism. Example: Anyone who kills shall be jailed (major premise). Pedro killed Juan (minor premise). Ergo, Pedro goes to jail (conclusion).

Like math, this formula (LxF=D) is consistent. In math, one plus one is always equal to two (1+1=2). And one divided by four is always equal to one fourth (1÷4=¼)—in the abstract.

Though both the formula and math are always valid in the abstract, they are not always true in reality. Hence, when one drop of water is added to another drop of water, the result is not always two drops of water, but one bigger drop. And when one piece of wood is divided by four, the result is not one-fourth, but four smaller pieces.

Yes, Austin’s formula is always good in the abstract. But often, problems arise in applying it to the real world. The first problem is how to determine facts. No known science assures the discovery of “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” Witnesses sometimes lie, or cannot remember, or are confused, or fail to observe details. Documents can be incomplete, vague, or fake. Scientific and historical evidence can be faultily extracted or badly preserved.

The second problem arises when laws are incomplete, or unclear, or confusing, or contradictory, or obsolete. Laws are not infallible. They cannot provide for all circumstances. Here, the textualists default and say, “If it is not found in the text, then it is outside legal contemplation; and therefore, cannot claim the protection and benefit of the law.”

Right and justice. Yet, justice must be served. Under the Civil Code, “No judge or court shall decline to render judgment by reason of the silence, obscurity or insufficiency of the laws.”

In such events, the Civil Code provides the general guideline: “In case of doubt in the interpretation or application of laws, it is presumed that the lawmaking body intended right and justice to prevail.”
When verba legis fails, great jurists rise. They search for “right and justice” beyond the text and look for the spirit, the intent, and the substance of the law in (1) overarching constitutional principles, (2) grand intentions of the constitution framers, (3) great judicial axioms, (4) landmark judicial precedents, (5) international conventions, and (6) legal presumptions.

Concededly, the case of Sen. Grace Poe is unique. The texts of the governing laws neither include nor exclude foundlings in their lists of citizens. The facts of her residency are torn between her mistaken computation in her 2013 certificate of candidacy for the Senate and the truth that she actually transferred her domicile to the Philippines as early as 2005.

Beyond the text. I believe her case presents a rare moment for judicial greatness for those who see beyond the text and ponder on these:

  1. Poe is a foundling who certainly deserves the overarching social justice principle of giving more law to those who have less in life.

  2. The framers of the 1935 Constitution explained that it was never their intention “to exclude foundlings from natural-born citizenship … and the only reason that there was no specific reference to foundlings … was that foundlings are few … [and] by international law … children or people born … of unknown parents are citizens…”

  3. The grand axiom “Salus populi est suprema lex” (the welfare of the people is the supreme law) may be invoked “extra-constitutionally” (beyond the constitutional text) to render social justice, famously wrote the eminent Justice Jose P. Laurel.

  4. Frivaldo vs Comelec teaches that “in case of doubt in the interpretation of constitutional and legal provisions involving popular sovereignty, it is best to interpret such provisions in a manner that enables our electorate to elect freely their leaders.” Bengzon vs HRET affirms that natural-born Filipinos who became aliens reacquire their original citizenship when repatriated. And Marcos vs Comelec instructs that the truth, not the mistaken statements in a certificate of candidacy, prevails.
  5. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the covenants on civil and political rights, on the reduction of statelessness and on the rights of the child favor foundlings like Poe.

  6. The presumptions of good faith, nondiscrimination and regularity in the performance of duties undoubtedly benefit her.

Judging from the gutsy “Comment” filed by Solicitor General Florin Hilbay in the Supreme Court, I believe he, too, has seen the moment for judicial greatness. Given his sterling track record as a bar topnotcher and law professor and my personal knowledge of his writing ability and excellent reports as a court attorney 15 years ago, Hilbay—if he were a sitting jurist—can, in my humble view, rise to the moment and craft a grand historic decision.
* * *
Comments to chiefjusticepanganiban@hotmail.com

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer

Sunday, January 17, 2016

CJ Panganiban: Constitutionality of Edsa 1 and Edsa 2

This year will be marked by two milestones of our two people power revolutions: the 30th anniversary of Edsa 1 on Feb. 22-25 and the 15th anniversary of Edsa 2 on Jan. 16-20, which catapulted Corazon Cojuangco-Aquino and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, respectively, to the presidency.

Edsa 2. The Supreme Court characterized these historical events as “extra” and “intra” constitutional ways of upholding and protecting democracy, the Constitution, and the great libertarian and egalitarian principles overarching and underlying them.

Let me begin with Edsa 2, which was ignited 15 years ago on Jan. 16, 2001, by the walkout of 11 prosecutors from the Senate impeachment trial of President Joseph Ejercito Estrada and ended on Jan. 20, 2001, when he left his office and Vice President Arroyo ascended to the top post. Its constitutionality was upheld on March 2, 2001, by the unanimous 13-0 decision of the Supreme Court in Estrada vs Desierto.

As a participant in Edsa 2, I recorded the judicial events in my diary. Some parts (mainly the “spiritual”) of my narratives were highlighted in a speech I delivered on Feb. 19, 2002, at the University of Santo Tomas Central Seminary. The speech was published as Chapter 11 of my book, “Reforming the Judiciary.”

Printed by the Supreme Court, this tome was never sold in any bookstore or anywhere else; thus, contrary to some critics’ claims, it was never “withdrawn” from circulation. Copies are in archives, like the Court library.

Withdrawal of support. Recall that the prosecutors’ walkout was triggered by the refusal of the Senate, voting 11-10, to open the so-called second envelope that allegedly contained damning evidence showing that Estrada allegedly “held P3.3 billion in a secret bank account under the name ‘Jose Velarde.’” The Senate trial, at which Chief Justice Hilario G. Davide Jr. presided, was covered live by TV-radio and “enjoyed the highest viewing rating.”

Estrada vs Desierto detailed the aftermath of the walkout thus: “In disgust, Senator [Aquilino] Pimentel [Jr.] resigned as Senate President. The (11-10) ruling made at 10:00 p.m. was met by a spontaneous outburst of anger that hit the streets of the metropolis. By midnight, thousands had assembled at the Edsa Shrine and speeches full of sulphur were delivered against [Estrada] and the 11 senators.”

On Jan. 18, 2001, a “10-kilometer line of people holding lighted candles formed a human chain from the Ninoy Aquino monument on Ayala Avenue in Makati City to the Edsa Shrine to symbolize the people’s solidarity in demanding [Estrada’s] resignation. Students and teachers walked out of their classrooms in Metro Manila to show their concordance. Speakers in the continuing rallies at the Edsa Shrine, all masters of the physics of persuasion, attracted more and more people.”

On Jan. 19, the Armed Forces chief of staff, Gen. Angelo Reyes, defected and announced publicly, in the presence of the heads of all armed services, that the “130,000-strong members of the armed forces were withdrawing their support to the government.” A little later, Panfilo Lacson, the head of the Philippine National Police, made a similar announcement. Several Cabinet and sub-Cabinet officials followed suit.

After the Cabinet, the armed forces and the police withdrew their support from Estrada and pledged their allegiance to Arroyo, I knew that Estrada could no longer govern. Neither could Vice President Arroyo legally lead. Hence, there was no functioning government from that point.

Saving the Constitution. On Jan. 20, I woke up at around 4 a.m. On TV was a panel discussing the tense situation. The panel host grimly announced that Jaime Cardinal Sin, through Msgr. Socrates Villegas, was pleading with the demonstrators at the Edsa Shrine to refrain from marching to Malacañang and confronting a large pro-Estrada crowd massed there.

The demonstrators adamantly refused and said they would storm the presidential enclave by 6 a.m. and forcefully oust Estrada. I was aghast at the violence and bloodshed that would ensue. Images of past Mendiola “massacres” haunted me.

At around 5:30 a.m., I called up CJ Davide and explained that the imminent encounter in Malacañang would be bloody and chaotic. Estrada could no longer govern. Arroyo could take over only by declaring a revolutionary government which would obliterate the Constitution. The situation was ripe for a coup d’état.

To avoid a power vacuum and a coup, I asked him to swear in Arroyo by 12 noon. I opined that the demonstrators would probably refrain from marching to Malacañang upon learning that VP Arroyo would be installed as chief executive by noon. The extraordinary crisis needed an extraordinary solution.

Davide (and, later, my colleagues in the Court and media reporters) asked for a legal justification to swear in the Vice President when the incumbent President was still physically in his office. I replied that, while the text of the Constitution did not expressly cover the critical situation facing the nation, the CJ could lean on the grand maxim “Salus populi est suprema lex” (The welfare of the people is the supreme law) precisely to save our Constitution and our democratic system from destruction. To cut the long story short, Davide agreed and swore in Arroyo at 12:29 p.m. of that day.

Next Sunday, I will discuss how this milestone started by my proposal to Davide and approved by the justices to swear in an “acting president” metamorphosed into an oath for a “President” (without the word “acting”) and how, in turn, this metamorphosis was later unanimously judged constitutional by the Court, voting 13-0 (Davide and I inhibited).
* * *
Comments to chiefjusticepanganiban@hotmail.com

source:  Philippine Daily Inquirer