

Among those senators now suspected of big time corruption, many have never been known to be paragons of honesty. In fact, Sen. Jinggoy Estrada has faced corruption cases in the past, convicted, but eventually acquitted. He has spent some time in detention. His conviction for bribery is still under appeal. Sen. Joel Villanueva, despite his penchant to quote the Sacred Scriptures, has been ordered dismissed from public service for misusing the Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF), although the decision was later reversed in 2019. Former senator Bong Revilla also faced plunder and graft cases in the past, later acquitted of the criminal case but was ordered to return P124.5 million to the government in civil liability.
But at least two of those senators now suspected of big time corruption used present themselves as reformers. I remember Sen. Chiz Escudero was at the forefront in the opposition to the graft-ridden Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo administration. He advocated transparency in the midst of the numerous allegations of corruption and the “Hello Garci” scandals. I also remember Sen. Loren Legarda shedding tears after majority of her fellow senators decided not to open the second envelope.
I will not be commenting on those who have gained notoriety for corruption. But those who were crusading for transparency in the past but who are now suspected of being involved in graft would present interesting case studies, to say the least. The name of Senator Escudero, who used to head the august higher chamber, has been dragged into the flood control mess. Aside from his alleged involvement in flood control projects, he has also raised the eyebrows of many when it was known that a campaign donor is a government contractor. There are those raising questions on the involvement of then Senator Legarda in the grant of the solar energy franchise to Solar Para sa Bayan, a company owned by her son, Leandro.
They who used to be accusers are now the accused. The untainted are now hard pressed to remove the stains in their body. How do we explain the transformation, or maybe more accurately, the devolution? This devolution is not the monopoly of those in public service. I have seen students who used to be epitomes of simplicity but who may now have a third car in less than three years.
It is already a cliché that power and money can corrupt even the best of them. Let me instead go beyond trite explanations.
First, our silent acquiescence can slowly weaken our moral fiber. Chiz, in particular, could have been vociferous in denouncing the corruption during Arroyo administration, but became silent in the midst of the extra-judicial killing and the Pharmally scandal. When we cannot speak truth to an intimidating power, somehow, we slowly learn to accept evil. Gradually but surely, we imbibe the disvalues that we used to condemn.
The second point is related to the first. Big things start from small things. When we accept small time corruption, justifying our acceptance that it is part of real life, then we also start being lax on our own morals. Nobody starts stealing millions. We may start by stealing paper clips and bond papers in our office. We may start by being dishonest without working time, or giving a few pesos to a cop who caught us overspeeding. Of course, one lie does not a liar make. But when this is repeated, the erosion of our moral values would be faster than the habal-habal drivers.
A biblical example is the case of King David. He was favoured by the heavens. But the descent into moral nihilism started by being a peeping Tom. He was attracted to the beauty of Bathsheba who was taking a bath. From being a peeping Tom he became an adulterer. And from an adulterer he became a sophisticated killer of Uriah, the husband of Bathsheba. Fortunately for his moral well-being, there was a prophet Nathan who brought him back to his senses.
Can we not be prophets to our own selves?