E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
Taking care of business
Sunday, 10 17, 2004
This government now has the ignominious distinction of being the 3rd most corrupt in Asia, and 11th worldwide. The dishonest exploitation of power for personal gain has become the principal item in the job description of a number of public officials. Today, this depravity - from the mind-boggling amounts deposited in fictitious accounts to million-dollar payoffs abroad - has grown into a huge revenue-raising business. Jose Pidal was let loose and is still out there, absolved of any obligation to explain the millions that went into his bank accounts. Meanwhile, the swirling dust he stirred in his merry escape has settled on the cloak of the presidency and sullied its already frayed and filthy sheen.
Soon after the Oakwood mutiny, Commander-in-Chief Arroyo promised: “If there is evidence, there will be prosecution. If guilt is proven, people will go to jail, whatever the rank or command.” This edict came after the setting up of a task force to investigate allegations of corruption in the military made by the leaders of the mutiny.
A year after the task force was set up, what have we got so far? No one has been indicted. The bidding system remains the same. No committee has been constituted to oversee the awarding of supply contracts. Military articles have not been accounted for. Conversion is still the norm. The negative list goes on.
The work of the task force should have been easy. A simple lifestyle check would have exposed the guilty. Where do they live? How many cars do they drive? How many trips abroad have been made by their families? How about visits to the casinos? But no, benign indifference continues, for it is forbidden to look into your own kind. All investigations are just hot air; it is business as usual.
It took the Tribune to heat up the public (again) about the spread of corruption in the military, more than a year after the setting up of the task force. Its expose on the $100,000 being jauntily carried by a general’s son, as if it were the latest casually fashionable thing to do if you were the scion of a general, leads one to ruminate on the truism: The fruit does not fall away from the tree. The bounty of the tree benefits those under its shade, especially if the tree has been living off the freely fertile soil of corruption.
Someone has to shake loose, if not entirely chop down, the tree. But the tree at this very instance is being taken care of in more ways than his doctors could. The military takes care of its own, remember? Keep within the ranks and don’t break formation - you stay healthy that way.
A retired vice-president in the construction business who has had shady deals with the military sums up the situation this way: “It is very difficult to talk to, much less extract information from, someone who holds the gun.” He means there is no way in hell that civilian authority can make the military do its bidding, especially if favors that extend all the way to the top have been exchanged. Like a runaway train, the military is going out of control, with its many officers laughing at the incompetence of the brakeman - brakewoman, at the moment - to put it to a stop. But then the brakewoman perhaps does not give a damn about who gets hit, mangled and torn to shreds along the tracks. After all, she owes her being on the throne to the military, so the trip to perdition in a runaway train goes hurtling on. I bet you, after all this Garcia hullabaloo, new millionaires in the military shall have been born again to board that train.
Gone are the days when the men in uniform were everyone’s idols. Any one who wanted to be a soldier did so for love of country. Today one wants to be a soldier so that his son could stylishly carry an indecent amount of dollars anywhere; acquire properties abroad; go around town in a flashy Jaguar; sail a yacht; build a villa. In short, one wants to be a soldier to plunder.
Last week at the wake of my mother, I had a quiet talk with her brother, Santiago Barañgan. Before he retired from the AFP, Barañgan was the Commanding General of the Presidential Security Command, and was the last man among the Marcos forces out of Malacañang at the culmination of EDSA I. Yes, there was corruption in the military, he said, but not in the magnitude that it is bannered about now. The corrupt in the military were few, and they were limited to those who had contacted the virus of greed from their relatives in the civilian government. He cited one who is now dead, and another who conveniently joined the civilian government after EDSA I, to insure himself against any prosecution for his ill-gotten wealth.
Barañgan was the example of propriety among the military during his time. Despite his 41 years in the service, including being the Regional Commander for Region I, he remained essentially free of any taint of corruption. He had his own isolated brush with notoriety, though - for protecting Malacanang in the celebrated case of the German vs. Barañgan, 135 SCRA 514. But even then, this had to do with the Freedom of Religion, and nothing with stealing the people’s money.
Barañgan lives on the land left behind by his father. No other vast tract of real estate for him. His only claim to luxury in his old age is a bamboo house in the middle of the family farm. He is inordinately proud of his children, whom he made sure would get a good education out of his salary and pension from the military. Barañgan does not have a fat bank account, relying more on his children to guarantee him and his wife Floy a modest amount for their sustenance. For an 86-year old, his mental acuity has remained remarkably sharp. He says: “Unless the President herself sets the example, and puts a hard disciplining hand against those corrupt in the military, nothing will come out of the recent ruckus over Garcia.”
Barañgan had not stashed away millions in dollars anywhere. His family had not gone to Los Angeles or New York regularly as if these places were a mere bus ride away. He does not have a mansion in Ayala Alabang or in Camp Aguinaldo. His house in the city is at the far end of Project 4 in Quezon City, which he acquired by installment of P20 per month while he was yet in the lowest rank in the military. That house still looks the same way I saw it in the 60’s, and needs some rehabilitation, if you ask me. Simply, Barañgan lived simply then, as he does now.
Barañgan marks his birthday today, as does my son Kenneth who I have suddenly realized has grown into a fine young man who has discarded his youthful slouch and has lately been holding his head and body in a posture that would do my uncle proud. In an entirely different sense, I tell you: The fruit does not fall away from the tree.
For comments about this website:Webmaster@tribune.net.ph
Last week at the wake of my mother, I had a quiet talk with her brother, Santiago Barañgan. Before he retired from the AFP, Barañgan was the Commanding General of the Presidential Security Command, and was the last man among the Marcos forces out of Malacañang at the culmination of EDSA I. Yes, there was corruption in the military, he said, but not in the magnitude that it is bannered about now. The corrupt in the military were few, and they were limited to those who had contacted the virus of greed from their relatives in the civilian government. He cited one who is now dead, and another who conveniently joined the civilian government after EDSA I, to insure himself against any prosecution for his ill-gotten wealth.
Barañgan was the example of propriety among the military during his time. Despite his 41 years in the service, including being the Regional Commander for Region I, he remained essentially free of any taint of corruption. He had his own isolated brush with notoriety, though - for protecting Malacanang in the celebrated case of the German vs. Barañgan, 135 SCRA 514. But even then, this had to do with the Freedom of Religion, and nothing with stealing the people’s money.
Barañgan lives on the land left behind by his father. No other vast tract of real estate for him. His only claim to luxury in his old age is a bamboo house in the middle of the family farm. He is inordinately proud of his children, whom he made sure would get a good education out of his salary and pension from the military. Barañgan does not have a fat bank account, relying more on his children to guarantee him and his wife Floy a modest amount for their sustenance. For an 86-year old, his mental acuity has remained remarkably sharp. He says: “Unless the President herself sets the example, and puts a hard disciplining hand against those corrupt in the military, nothing will come out of the recent ruckus over Garcia.”
Barañgan had not stashed away millions in dollars anywhere. His family had not gone to Los Angeles or New York regularly as if these places were a mere bus ride away. He does not have a mansion in Ayala Alabang or in Camp Aguinaldo. His house in the city is at the far end of Project 4 in Quezon City, which he acquired by installment of P20 per month while he was yet in the lowest rank in the military. That house still looks the same way I saw it in the 60’s, and needs some rehabilitation, if you ask me. Simply, Barañgan lived simply then, as he does now.
Barañgan marks his birthday today, as does my son Kenneth who I have suddenly realized has grown into a fine young man who has discarded his youthful slouch and has lately been holding his head and body in a posture that would do my uncle proud. In an entirely different sense, I tell you: The fruit does not fall away from the tree.
For comments about this website:Webmaster@tribune.net.ph
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