

My starting point in reflecting on the above question is a parable entitled “The Widow and the Judge,” found in the Gospel of Luke. The widow is seeking justice (or vengeance) and her quest is characterized by unforgiving tenacity. She kept demanding, “grant me justice.” The judge was not inclined to grant her plea. She does not accept the initial verdict. The judge does not care for her feelings. But the persistence of the widow gets into the skin of the judge. In the end, the judge finally relents, “Though I neither fear God nor regard man, yet because this widow bothers me, I will vindicate or she will wear me out by her continual coming.” If this is a staring context, it is the judge who blinks. In the fight between the insistence of her pleas and the steadiness of his refusal, the former wins.
I find this parable illustrative of the problem of the necessity of sustaining the call for accountability. Just like the widow, most citizens feel aggrieved. Another similarity is that the citizens have started to knock on the doors of those perceived to have pocketed billions of pesos, by following the congressional inquiries, joining the nationwide trillion-peso march and posting comments and videos in social media. But just like the judge in the parable, the politicians alleged to be in connivance with contractors and Department of Public Works and Highways engineers have remained unmoved. There may be one difference though: The judge in the parable, not fearing God, did not bother to show his piety. In contrast, some of these politicians can quote the Bible with a straight face. But as Shakespeare tells us in The Merchant of Venice, “The devil can quote Scriptures for his purpose.”
This brings us to the issue of sustaining our pleas. Unlike the widow, we Filipinos are stereotyped as having a ningas cogon character which is our inability to bring what we have started to its desired result, which is justice. How do we keep the issue of shameless corruption constantly in the consciousness of the people? Will the issue be sent into oblivion once the Christmas season is fully in the air? Will “Christmas in our Hearts” by Jose Mari Chan lull us into deep slumber? Will there be preachers who misinterpret the Gospels and tell us to learn how to forgive and forget about justice in the spirit of the Yuletide season?
The invitation of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines to recite the prayer it composed in the light of the corruption scandal is a step in the right direction. In the form of a prayer, ongoing conscientization is done.
First of all, the prayer makes us humbly acknowledge our own role in the scandal: “And we too, O God, through our small and great failures, have contributed to the spread of darkness.” Thus, it is not just a case of pointing fingers, but also an expression of repentance. But secondly, the prayer also describes the current scandal: “Thieves boast of their wealth, they flaunt their luxury cars, their jewelry worth millions and their lavish banquets that cost as much as a laborer’s wages for years.”
This is to be prayed until the Solemnity of Christ the King, which will be on Nov. 22, 2025. But more can be done to remind us of the connection between corruption on the one hand and substandard infrastructures, floods, lack of class rooms and health care facilities on the other hand. For example, we need to be vigilant of attempts to deviate our attention from this scandal.
Above, I made mention of our ningas cogon character. I like to believe it is nothing but a stereotype. When we deeply feel that there is something wrong, we can be persistent in seeking justice. As far as timeline is concerned, somewhat similar to where we are now was the situation in October of 2000. It was during this period 25 years ago when there were allegations of gambling payoffs. The eyes of the citizens were glued to the TV sets which showed the live drama of the impeachment trial of President Erap Estrada. Then came the Christmas break. But the Christmas spirit did not delete the issue from the national consciousness. In fact, the damning testimony of Clarissa Ocampo was seen in the light of the Christmas story, as a light in the midst of darkness. In the end, Erap was ousted in January of 2001.
Of course, the situation cannot be totally similar. In fact, there are as many differences as there are similarities. But what happened 25 years ago is cited simply to ask: Can we sustain the outrage even after Christmas? Can we be the widow in the parable? Can our demand for accountability outlast the constant attempts to obfuscate the issues?