Pork barrel mystery

As fiction, it doesn’t read very well. It seems almost formulaic having all the elements one expects from a Hollywood B movie –  corruption, kidnapping, intrigue, and now a possible final chase that may or may not yield the expected result.

Judging by other unresolved mysteries here such as the case of the disappearing retired butcher-general, the case of the religious head (God Himself?) who owned an island and offed his own wife, the case of the phone-caller who stole a whole election, all involving culprits seemingly disappearing forever into the good night, so to speak. Will this expected result be none other than “open ended”?

Oh, if it could only be serious literature, a little bit difficult to read but yielding untold benefit by way of lessons learned, an eye-opening insight into the human condition; perhaps, if nothing else, a good poetic twist in the end. But it is not. It seems only an old worn-out plot repeated too many times, an overused story line. Its  twists and turns so predictable they read like a low-budget film made to be understood by all including the popcorn vendor at the doorway who hears only the dialogue without ever seeing the movie itself.

And now the main star, Janet Lim-Napoles, has disappeared. There is a warrant out for her capture. But after the first 48 hours, chances are she will never be found. Thus, sending most likely a huge collective sigh in the halls of Congress where senators and other legislators look to each other and know exactly the extent of the stink. Only they see the true mark of crap on their faces since such form of crap is always invisible to the general public and through the lens of the news cameras. Only they have the best read of the full story. But are they talking?

While we ourselves see only the drama which harks always to the type of soap we have grown used to. With the good Cardinal Chito Tagle, we might have been driven to tears by the scandalous offense of it in a country with so many poor. The tears should have doubled upon the discovery that some other church leaders benefited also from the same barrel of rotting pork. But when we heard of it, how priests and bishops had been close to the woman Napoles, how religious she was, and so generous to the Catholic priesthood with our tax money, were we surprised?

It is not our fault. We cannot always know where our money comes from. This follows after exactly the same vein of logic senators and congressman have used: We cannot always know where our money goes to. The Department of Budget and Management (DBM) says the same thing. It is not our job what happens eventually to the money. So whose job was it? Apparently, no one’s.

As usual it took a disgruntled lieutenant to the main culprit to blow the whistle. And of course they are not completely innocent either. But at least they are better than nothing. And they are still alive, after the first 48 hours. Which bodes well for them.

In the meantime, the usual suspects: Political leaders well-loved by people, whom they take care of from cradle to grave. Friends who will hide them if they should ever feel the need to disappear just like Gringo Honasan and Ping Lacson, once, like Reuben Ecleo and Jovito Palparan, and who was that Abalos guy? And you must wonder: Why are they always a few steps ahead of the NBI, the police, even the Department of Justice, all the machinery of the state itself? Always a few steps ahead of everyone else?

And there lies the true mystery. It is the mystery of impunity which seems now the birthright of every rich and powerful politician, every culprit in and out of uniform, every offender who resides inside the often moveable circles of power in our country. If you are rich and powerful enough you can get away with anything, even murder.

The loss of a few billion of taxpayer’s money seems such a poor pittance to worse crimes. Jonas Burgos is still missing. What can be worse than that? After the first 48 hours if she is not caught she might never be. And we can only wonder if she is dead or out there somewhere getting away with it, getting away with secrets that might bring down a whole government, both administration and opposition.

But eventually we will forget. The thriller becomes last week’s news. It becomes forgotten and we won’t even know or remember how it ends. Do you remember the original Maria Flordeluna? Whatever became of her?