Hocus bonus
Energized by the trust placed in me by the second-highest official of the land (and a bar topnotcher to boot), like the Energizer Bunny, I ran home and kept going and going and going.
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Energized by the trust placed in me by the second-highest official of the land (and a bar topnotcher to boot), like the Energizer Bunny, I ran home and kept going and going and going.
Having secured the services of a six-man crew last Saturday to do a deep cleaning of our law office, I had to look over all the ancient files in our archives to determine which ones to keep and which to destroy.
When lo and behold! I found an old petition which I filed on my behalf (as well as some other people) in December 1991 before the Supreme Court (SC). My first ever. And I wasn’t even a lawyer then.
First, some background. I had just taken the Bar exams in September 1991. Before that, I was a “special assistant” (a fancy name for all-around errand boy) in Vice President Salvador “Doy” Laurel’s office.
Then news broke in November 1991: the members of the House of Representatives, led by Speaker Ramon Mitra, who was vying for the endorsement of President Cory for the presidency, had voted themselves a P100,000 Christmas “bonus” each.
With my Bar review still very fresh in my mind, I went to Tito Doy and told him that such a “bonus” was prohibited by the Constitution. With all of my youthful enthusiasm, I strongly urged him to go to the Supreme Court to have the fund release stopped.
Tito Doy said, “Ferdie, if I do that, I will be accused of political grandstanding, since I am sure to run against Mitra. It has to be someone who is not associated with me.”
After racking our brains for 15 minutes for a name, he suddenly looked at me and said, “Why not you?” Placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder, he said, “You have the legal knowledge; draft the petition yourself and I’ll look it over.”
Energized by the trust placed in me by the second-highest official of the land (and a bar topnotcher to boot), like the Energizer Bunny, I ran home and kept going and going and going.
But first, so that it would not look like the Charge of the Light Brigade, I looked for other petitioners. These I found within the ranks of the Cavite Bay Breakfast Club, civil leaders who shared my concern for the public treasury. Twenty of them signed up.
Thus was “Topacio et al. v. Mitra and the House of Representatives” drafted and filed before the Supreme Court on 9 December 1991. It was one of the first SC cases to invoke the expanded judicial power under the Fundamental Law. It was also the first time I saw my name on the front pages of national newspapers.
The aggregate amount of the bonuses — around P30 million — would be, adjusted for inflation, around P200 million today. Not a piddling amount, but dwarfed nonetheless by the trillion-peso-plus Floodgate scandal.
But then something happened. Taking cover from the heavy brickbats being thrown at him by the media and the public due to our petition, Mitra backed down.
Required to comment on our petition, Mitra ordered the congressmen to return the bonuses and presented to the SC a certification to that effect from the National Treasurer. Thus was our petition mooted.
The 1990s was a time when politicians had thinner skin on their faces (so to speak). And while our petition may be naught but a footnote in the annals of the Judiciary, it marked a time when I experienced the power of determination, civic-mindedness and public opinion in turning an official wrong to right.
And that is why I am here, now, still doing it.
