The discharge of an accused to become a state witness is among the most extraordinary powers granted to prosecutors. It allows one participant in a crime to escape prosecution so that greater offenders may be convicted.

The law permits it only when the testimony of the witness is absolutely necessary, unavailable from any other source, and when the witness does not appear to be the most guilty.

These safeguards are intended to preserve public confidence that justice is not being negotiated but pursued. That confidence is now being tested.

In the alleged flood control scandal, an undersecretary was discharged as a state witness. Then a district engineer or regional director was likewise discharged. Months later, the Cabinet secretary himself was granted the same privilege.

Meanwhile, several officials below them remain behind bars facing prosecution. The picture appears inverted.

Government functions through hierarchy. Recommendations move upward; authority moves downward. Engineers prepare technical documents. Regional officials review them.

Undersecretaries supervise implementation. But the Cabinet secretary sits at the apex of the department. Major contracts, policies and disbursements ultimately pass through the secretary’s authority.

Even government protocol reflects this reality. Cabinet secretaries occupy some of the highest positions in the Executive hierarchy, ranking above members of Congress in the official order of precedence. Their office carries immense responsibility precisely because final executive authority rests with them.

That is why many Filipinos naturally ask: If both the undersecretary and subordinate officials have already agreed to testify, what indispensable testimony remains that only the secretary can provide? More importantly, against whom?

If the secretary’s testimony merely reinforces what his subordinates have already disclosed, the legal requirement of “absolute necessity” becomes difficult to appreciate. But if his testimony implicates individuals beyond the department — persons occupying even higher positions of influence or authority — then the extraordinary decision to discharge him may make legal sense.

If neither is true, the public deserves an explanation.

Adding to the questions are previous public allegations raised during congressional inquiries suggesting that the secretary himself played a significant role in the questioned projects.

Congressional hearings do not establish guilt, nor should allegations be mistaken for proof. But when such allegations exist, and the same official later receives immunity while his subordinates continue to face prosecution, skepticism is inevitable.

Justice must not only be done; it must also be seen to be done.

The Office of the Ombudsman undoubtedly possesses evidence not yet available to the public. Prosecutors are entitled to make strategic decisions based on information unavailable outside the investigation. But the more extraordinary the decision, the greater the need for transparency once disclosure becomes legally permissible.

Otherwise, the inevitable perception is that accountability travels only downward.

That perception becomes even stronger when those who prepared documents, processed papers, and implemented directives remain incarcerated, while the official who exercised the highest authority is relieved of criminal liability.

This is not an accusation that the Office of the Ombudsman is protecting anyone. It is, however, an appeal for clarity. Institutions tasked with fighting corruption cannot afford decisions that invite doubts about consistency or impartiality.

The public is entitled to ask whether the discharge of the secretary serves the larger objective of reaching those who may bear even greater responsibility. If so, the nation should eventually see that reflected in subsequent indictments supported by credible evidence.

If, however, the chain of accountability ends with officials lower than the discharged secretary, then the difficult question remains: Why was the department’s highest executive granted immunity while those below him continue to stand trial?

The answer matters far beyond this single investigation.

The strength of the justice system is measured not by how many state witnesses it creates, but by whether every grant of immunity advances the search for the whole truth rather than leaving the public to wonder whether some truths are simply too inconvenient to pursue.

In the fight against corruption, no office should be too high to investigate, no official too important to prosecute, and no decision too extraordinary to explain.

Public trust demands nothing less