S1E62 - Mandatory military training for all citizens, anyone?

iss Carla Adaawan?”

The girl from Tabuk City looked up from oogling at her smartphone at the start of the evening’s class. I don’t know what startled her—that I suddenly called on her to recite without even shuffling their classcards, or the fact that I finally got her name right.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was just putting my cellphone on silent mode—"

“It’s alright, keep it on noisy mode. Nothing being discussed in any law class could be more important than a possible life-or-death emergency which is the only reason anyone would call you at this time,” I said.

Even I don’t understand why they require phones to be put on silent mode during ‘important’ meetings. It’s like saying, “we’re going to disable the fire alarm system for a while so that if a fire breaks out on the second floor we don’t have to be disturbed about it here on the 5th floor until smoke has filled the hallway and we can’t get out anymore!”

Of course a phone call will disrupt a meeting, that’s what a phone call is supposed to do. If it wasn’t urgent, the other fellow would have sent flowers by Grab instead.

“Miss Adaawan, are you married?”

“I have a daughter, sir!” she answered so excitedly I could tell the daughter must be some clingy spoiled mama’s girl.

“How old is she?”

“She’s in her late teens, sir!”

“Ooooh…THAT age,” I said, “I went through that with my own daughter, Pebbles. At age 16 or 17, I think it was, she woke up one morning and made a wonderful discovery. I mean just an awesome discovery, people. It came on her like a flood!”

“What was it, sir?” the eager young mother wanted to know, as did the rest of the class.

“Well, like all teenagers I suppose, mine woke up one morning and discovered she KNEW EVERYTHING!”

The whole class broke out laughing. Sometimes I forget that it is a law class, all of these law students are post-graduates, not a few of them are actually parents.

“And what does your daughter do,” I probed deeper, “l mean aside from pricking her pimples with a safety pin, does she sing, play the tuba, dance the ballet, or what?”

“Oh, no, sir, my daughter is into cooking, pursuant to Article 320 of the Revised Penal Code!”

It’s a classic law student’s joke.

“Oh, I see. She commits arson every time she cooks. She burns everything, huh?”

“Oh, no, sir. Her cooking is perfect! But it’s us who burn our mouths and tongues, when we have to eat my daughter’s cooking. She puts curry powder on scrambled eggs at breakfast. Chili powder on oat meal, cayenne pepper on rice that she fries with garlic oil—my daughter’s cooking is more Indian than Mahatma Gandhi himself!” More laughs, and Miss Deema is starting to tap her feet lightly.

“Ah, teenagers!” I said, “you can’t wait till they move out, but after they do you wanna kill them cause they never even come home to visit.”

“Hehehe, yes, sir. But if my daughter stayed with me the rest of her life, I won’t complain. I’ll keep my baby...it’s such a wild world out there—”

2“And it’s hard to get by just upon a smile. Cat Stevens, 1971,” Miss Julyrain Arpeggio interrupted.

“I know THAT one!” I was proud to finally be able to keep up with little Miss iTunes.

“So, Miss Adaawan, as attached as you are to your daughter, what would you do if one day she got a call saying she has to be at Loakan Airport first thing in the morning to board a C-130 troop transport plane to be airdropped by parachute into a hot combat zone in Tawi-Tawi, with her M-16 Armalite slung over her shoulder, fitted with an M-203 grenade launcher?”

It wasn’t only Miss Carla who was dumbfound, everyone was. I continued. “How would she know how to use those weapons? Well, let’s say for the last five years she has gone through bootcamp, learned how to disassemble a Colt AR-15 assault rifle, put it back together and take a sniper shot at a rebel cadre from 1,000 yards out in high wind—which would be pretty darn impressive for an Indian cuisine culinary chef. Does that sound exciting to you?”

“No, sir!! Not my baby! She couldn’t hurt a fly. I mean literally she would fling open a window and shoo the fly out. So no! nobody is going to make a killer out my baby!” Miss Carla said emphatically.

“You do realize it’s being proposed by Bongbong Marcos’ runningmate—this mandatory military training for all youths of ‘military age’ regardless of gender, don’t you?”

“I don’t care how tough Sara Duterte wants to sound or look like sir! She can beat up all the court sheriffs she wants, cut her hair all the way down to her scalp, I don’t give a damn but she better leave my daughter alone!”

“Well, in fairness,” I said, “what she may have in mind is not exactly the scenario I gave you. She just wants all youths to develop military discipline and instill in them a sense of patriotism. Plus they‘ll receive the finest martial arts and weaponry training, learning how to obey orders, never questioning authority, civic things like that you know. Wouldn’t you want that out of your teenage daughter? Who knows when that might be useful in that wild world out there that you were just talking about, huh?”

“Yeeeaaah…” Miss Deema eased into the discussion, “great weaponry skills and being brainwashed to have the instinct to obey orders. A lot of good those things did for the SAF-44 in Mamasapano, sir!”

Just the mention of “Mamasapano” sent the young mother, Miss Carla Adaawan, flying off the handle.

“NO WAY!! ABSOLUTELY NOT HAPPENING! NOT EVER! OVER MY DEAD BODY! OR EVEN BETTER, OVER HERS!!!” Miss Carla exploded.

“Calm down, Miss Adaawan,” I said, “it’s a hypothetical question.”

“Yes, and now all we have to do is get Miss Carla on Tiktok and Sara would have her own legitimate assassination threat to brag about too!” Deema said.

“It’s not a threat, sir, it’s a promise!” Miss Carla was still fuming, “if Sara tries that mandatory military training thingamajig on my baby, I swear to God I’m going to introduce her to Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates way ahead of her schedule!”

“Wow,” I said, “it wouldn’t take a whole lot to turn you into a killing machine, would it, Miss Adaawan? I wonder if Sara Duterte has any idea of the military killing potential of a mother scorned! Maybe she should look into mandatory military service for mothers, instead, for a change,” I said and no sooner had I uttered the last word than Miss Deema jumped on her feet.

“THAT’S IT, SIR!!! MOTHERS FOR CHANGE!!!” Deema shrieked, “Sara should lead the charge and bring Mocha Uson and Michele Gumabao with her to the hottest warzone in Tawi-Tawi! They can wage war by fellatio just like Mocha Uson likes to demonstrate with her ‘how to pepe’ series on YouTube!” the whole class exploded in guffaws.

“Language, Miss Deema!!” I cautioned, “it’s not even really that funny, especially considering that those three women are not even mothers!” I said.

Deema stopped laughing and stomping her feet long enough to say, between gasps, “Oh, what I’d give to see those three women get dropped by parachute into a warzone. THEY WILL BECOME MOTHERS, sir, I guarantee it!”

“Yes, just upon a smile!!!” Miss Julyrain added.

“I can’t believe.. you perv---ah, just get the hell out of here, all of you. Class dismissed!”

(Read past lectures you missed in class at alphasectionclass.blogspot.com)

S1E61- What would Jesus say about electric cooperatives?

walked into the classroom holding nothing in my hands—no classcards, no index cards or lecture notes on yellowpad. I even left my chalkbox and blackboard eraser in the faculty lounge. Instantly I could hear my Alpha Section class heave a collective sigh of relief.

“No graded recitation tonight sir?” Juan Dimacaawat wondered.

“No, Juan, I’m going to preach tonight,” I answered.

“Uh…wouldn’t that be a violation of our religious rights, sir?” Deema asked, her left eyebrow rising about a quarter inch higher than her right.

“I’d love to hear your reasoning support for that, Miss Deema,” I said.

“Well, sir, it’s one thing to sit on a pew in church and listen to a sermon you disagree with, because you can walk out. In class, we are a captive audience and walking out carries a heavy penalty of being marked absent. That gives us no choice but to surrender our religious beliefs in favor of your own!”

“Trust me, Miss Deema, walking out of a sermon carries a far heavier penalty in the long term,” the class laughs mildly, “but not to worry, I’m not aiming to save anybody’s wretched soul tonight.”

“John Newton, 1772, Geneva College in England,” Julyrain Arpeggio said casually.

“I’m sorry, what did you say, Miss Arpeggio?”

“That very rare phrase you used sir-- ‘wretched soul’—it comes from the song Amazing Grace by John Newton,” said the chubby cute walking iTunes library of Alpha class.

“Riiight…you know, Miss Arpeggio I’d expect you to know everything about the Beatles or Taylor Swift but I’m amazed that you’d know about gospel music!”

“Oh, no, sir gospel music—or what we call the spirituals—gave birth to soul music, that led to blues, which became modern jazz, that fused with rhythm-and-blues to evolve into rock-and-roll…”

“No, no, no—that’s okay, Miss Arpeggio, I wasn’t aiming to dig up the genesis of music…wait...did you just say rock-and-roll began as spiritual??” I was struck by that odd piece of information, “but never mind, don’t answer that.”

“My secular preaching tonight has nothing to with things audible but rather with something visible. I want to talk about light.”

“I think ‘secular preaching’ is a contradiction in terms, sir,” a familiar interruptor said.

“Let it slide, Miss Deema,” I said, “it says in the bible, right at the very beginning, that God said ‘Let there be light!’ What does that tell us, anyone?”

Hannah Maala stood up, “It’s a very significant statement, sir. The first thing God created was energy, manifesting as light. In other words, God created electricity ahead of everything else, including man.”

“Thank you for that astute observation, Miss Palindrome,” I said, “now, does that account tell us anything about what ingredients God used to create energy?”

Blank stares greeted me.

“Aw, come on, lawyers-to-be, you’re supposed to be masters of logic!” I provoked the class, “what existed before light that God could have used as ingredient for creating it?”

“Nothing, sir,” Deema tried, “if energy was the first thing God created, then nothing existed before that.”

“Correct!” I said, “now if nothing existed before energy, then between the point just before God spoke a word and after He had spoken, what is it-- what substance or thing--bridged those two points?”

Miss Kata stood up, “Time, sir. Just time.”

“That’s right, Miss Kata,” I said, “understand one thing, class: apart from God Himself, there are only two things that existed in the universe at the very beginning—TIME and ENERGY. Did you notice something peculiar and common between these two, anyone?”

Jack Makataruz stood up, “both are intangible, sir. You can observe them but you cannot hold them in your hands.”

“I will not ask you who dyed your tomahawk hair PINK, Jack, because I have a pretty good idea,” I snickered as Deema rolled her eyes, “but you are correct. TIME and ENERGY are quantities. But, mind you, as quantities they are only measurable, but not storable.”

The whole class went, “Oooooh…!” as the realization hit them.

“I can discuss with you several special criminal laws dealing with anti-hoarding of various commodities, but I can assure you none of them includes time or electricity. There’s no need. You CANNOT HOARD time or electricity.”

“You know, class, the pride of man makes him think he can pass laws on everything. But once in a while, we come across something we realize we cannot control. We still try to enact laws about it but in reality, those laws only deal with how we behave around those things, that’s all.”

“That’s pretty deep sir,” Deema said, “are we a Philosophy class now?”

“Only tonight,” I said, “with all this talk going on about electric cooperatives and the struggle for their ownerships not just here in Baguio but nationwide, I wanted to give you a wider perspective. So let me pursue the point further. In terms of distribution, what else can we say about time and energy? Anyone…”

Mommy Dionisia stood up, “we all get equal portions, no matter who we are. We all get 24 hours in a day, and 220 volts at home.”

“Very interesting point, Mommy Dionisia,” I acknowledged, “time and electricity are the true great equalizers. None of us gets more than anyone else. But like I said, sometimes we like to pass laws, or use existing law, to try to OWN more of it than our rightful portion. At the basic level, God really intended for all men to have equal portions of time, and equal access to energy, like electricity. Technology could not break the God recipe for time. Technology still cannot produce time, but it learned how to generate electricity. That made man even prouder.”

Cabo Buhan, the science guy in the class, stood up, “Actually, energy cannot be created, sir. It can only be transformed from one form to another. Electricity, for example, is the result of transforming hydroelectric potential energy, into current.”

“I didn’t say ‘create’ Cabo, I said ‘generate.’ That’s what technology achieved. It discovered how to generate electricity. And it hasn’t stopped discovering new ways. First, hydroelectric, then geothermal, then nuclear, then solar….but at the end of the day, their common product is still the same: electricity. It doesn’t matter how you generated it, you still cannot hoard it.”

Again the class went “Ooooooh…!”

“So you know what man came up with in order to get more than his portion and satisfy his greed? Ownership of the means of distribution. That’s what is at the center of all this debate about electric cooperatives. It’s a battle for ownership between those who believe that we should all have equal portions, and those that want everything for themselves. It’s a battle between equality and greed. It’s a battle between fairness and profit.”

Deema stood up, “Sir, can you explain one thing to us then. If God intended energy distribution to be democratized, how come there are some so-called evangelical Christians who are rabid supporters of privatizing electric cooperatives?”

“Miss Deema, some Christians won’t even recognize Jesus Christ if the Lord were to walk around today,” I said sadly, “so don’t let the religion of others stand between you and God. If there’s anything God is good at, it’s talking directly to whoever He wants without having to use any conduits other than His Son,”

Deema looked as if she was going to say something, but stopped short then sat down.

“In fact, class, don’t even be surprised that some people would even quote passages from the bible to support a view that is philosophically anathema to God. The bible itself identifies the Number 1 expert at doing that—the devil.”

“Sir, if we want our actions to be aligned with the will of God, let’s say, in this battle for ownership of an electric cooperative, how are we supposed to choose sides?”

“The answer to that is really rather simple, Miss Kata. God is consistent. He never changes. So just ask yourself, did God who created electricity, mean it to be enjoyed equally by all, or did He want some wealthy person, whether natural or juridical, to own it all by himself?”

“Well, sir, by that criteria, then God must be in favor of member-consumer-owners or MCO communities because they are for democratized ownership, as opposed to self-righteous individuals who want privatization so they can make profit?” Miss Kata asked.

“There you go,” I said, “you just interpreted God’s will correctly…and you didn’t even have to go to seminary.”*

(Read past lectures you missed in class here alphasectionclass.blogspot.com)

S1E60 - Again I predict BBM will NOT be disquaiified

or the second time, I will go out on a limb again and say, NO they will not disqualify BongBong Marcos—not even in the three remaining disqualification cases pending before the First and Second Divisions of COMELEC.

The first case for “cancellation of certificate of candidacy” had been dismissed by the First Division. It ruled that when Bongbong Marcos checked the tickboxes to answer “NO” to the questions "had he been convicted of a crime involving moral turpitude," and "had he been convicted of any offense where the imposable penalty was imprisonment of more than 18 months"—which would have carried with it the accessory penalty of perpetual disqualification from public office—he was not guilty of material misrepresentation.

As a “consuelo de bobo” the COMELEC agreed that, yes, those are material facts affecting the fitness of a candidate to seek elective office. But, NO, the COMELEC said failure to file an income tax return is not moral turpitude.

I say that is a tightrope walk.

It is not moral turpitude if you have actually paid your income tax—and if you’re a salaried worker in this country, how can you not? Ten percent of your basic salary is automatically deducted by your employer and remitted to the BIR as taxes withheld on income at source. So maybe you were too busy on April 15, or just “forgot” to file your ITR. Even if you had, chances are you wouldn’t have had to pay anything anyway because withholding taxes are so computed that they exactly equal what you should pay.

But it IS moral turpitude if you are receiving compensation, or increased your wealth, from sources not covered by the pre-deduction procedures involved in withholding taxes. Like, when you are a self-employed businessman. I don’t know how they alleged Bongbong was making his money, so I can’t say if he cheated or not. But even the BIR cannot go digging around your past beyond five years back from the current assessment year. We’re talking of tax liabilities circa 1982 to 1984 here so—come on—that’s a bridge too far even for the most bitter critics of the Marcoses. Which happens to include me.

The remaining “direct disqualification” cases—that first one was anchored on mere technicality of form—are not anchored on misrepresentation but outright lack of fitness for the office of the President.

If you are for Leni, you will hate me for saying this, but Bongbong IS qualified to be President of the Philippines. So these disqualification cases are meant to test if he checks both wings of the glider—that phrase that one “must possess all of the qualifications, AND NONE OF THE DISQUALIFICATIONS” for the position. If he does, he can fly.

Annoyingly (for both camps) these remaining cases just happen to also rely heavily on Bongbong’s conviction for tax evasion. Again, there’s a lot of play room in drawing the distinction on two issues: (1) was he “convicted” or not? (2) did he not pay his taxes, or did he just not declare his income?

He was, in fact, convicted, by a Quezon City court. But the hair to be split here is, whether that conviction is already “final.” As long as there is a pending appeal—which Bongbong claims there is, and his opponents insist there is none (he struck a compromise)—there would ostensibly be no “finality” of the conviction yet.

We’re not talking here of whether he was convicted in a “final judgment”—of course, he was. You can NEVER be convicted by an interlocutory order. So the question, “was his conviction by final judgment already final” is really NOT ridiculous. The first “final” refers to the end-stage of the trial, and the second “final” talks about whether no more remedies remain to overturn that conviction.

Every bone in my body wishes that Bongbong be disqualified. But every ounce of honesty in me says he will NOT—and if I really struggle hard enough to set aside my bias, I can even bring myself to say he should not. If we are to REALLY be a nation of laws and not of men, then the same law that protects the saint must also protect the sinner. Or to bring it closer to the kitchen, what is good for the goose is sauce for the gander.

On the other hand, if Bongbong is NOT disqualified, that is the best guarantee we can have that if Leni wins, the legitimacy of her administration would be Teflon-covered from any mud that the loser would hurl. She would have won fair and square—like she did when she beat Bongbong in 2016. Mind you, even the decision on the electoral protests in that lopsided Leni victory is still NOT final to this day.

Bongbong’s camp are wasting their breath pointing out that he had been allowed to run—and won—as Congressman, Senator even Vice-president in the past, so how can he be disqualified NOW?

That is not relevant, under the so-called “Doctrine of Operative Fact” which is a fancy lawyer’s way of saying you cannot force toothpaste back into the tube. Maria Lourdes Sereno was Chief Justice from 2012 to 2018—that’s six years—before she was “not impeached” out of office. That didn’t mean that after she was removed through quo warranto (a question all law professors still abhor having to explain to law students to this day) by her own colleagues, the decisions which she penned while she was chief magistrate are suddenly all void. No, they all remain good law.

In the same way, Bongbong is NOT safe from disqualification just by virtue of the fact that he had been able to “get away with it” three times over many years. If the gods at the Palacio del Gobernador don’t listen to me (and why should they?) and vote to disqualify him anyway—you know, fairy tales can still happen.*

(read more articles like this in theunheardside.blogspot.com or get an idea how the Alpha Section class discuss law matters like this in thealphaclass.blogspot.com)

S1L59 - The Paradox of Loans

onight, class, I want everybody to get a firm grip of their understanding of the concept of a LOAN. And I don’t just mean your ordinary ‘commodity loan’ like some money you borrow from a bank to pay for the purchase of a new car, or to construct a new house. I don’t want you contributing to the dumbing of this nation by perpetuating that idea that you get a loan to buy a car, or house, etc. Those are not loans. Those are mortgages. People always get into trouble when they insist on applying the rules meant for one upon the other. Enough of that. As students of law, you should know better,” I began the class session by announcing the agenda for the evening’s lecture.

“First of all, I need somebody tell us the two general classifications of contracts. Miss Deema, can you start the evening for us by answering that?”

“Yes, sir Contracts are either NOMINATE or INNOMINATE. The contracts of loan, sale, lease, employment, agency, partnership, insurance, common carriage, etc. are all NOMINATE contracts because they have names. That makes it possible to locate a particular set of provisions in the Civil Code that governs them.” Deema said.

“What about INNOMINATE contracts, Miss Grippa Baligtaran?”

“These are any other contracts that don’t have a specific name and whose terms and conditions are left to the imagination of the parties, sir,” Grippa said, blinking her eyelids on every syllable.

“That’s right, Miss Grippa. They make their own law. The contract becomes the principal law between them. Sometimes, they can refer to the Civil Code, if they can find an analogous contract. But otherwise, in innominate contracts, the parties are on their own, so to speak. Sometimes these are called the ‘do-and-give’ combination contracts. Can you tell us why?”

“Yes, sir. The four INNOMINATE contracts are the four combinations of the acts of one party doing something in exchange for the other party giving something.”

“So what are those four contract combinations?” I followed up.

“Sir, they are ‘I give, you do’… ‘I give, you give’… ‘I do, you give’ … ‘and I do, you do’ and those four combinations cover all possible contracts you can imagine. Isn’t that amazing, sir?” Grippa enthused.

“It is, Miss Grippa. Not everybody knows this, people think you need to be a lawyer to draw up a special contract that’s not in the books. In fact, all you have to do is describe the act to be done, and the nature of the thing to be given, and—voila!—you’ve got a contract. Give me one example, Miss Kata.”

“Uuuh..what about this sir: I will encode all our assigned reading cases on his laptop if Jack will bring me home on his motorbike every night’ that’s an ‘I do, you do’ contract, sir.” Kata said.

“Uuuuh…I don’t know if I’d trust Mr. Makataruz that much, but, yes that is a valid ‘do-and-do’ contract,” I said.

“What about this sir: pay me a thousand pesos and I’ll paint your kitchen PINK! That’s an ‘I do, you give’ contract, sir!” Deema butted in—without being called, as usual.

“Wow. You just inspired me to invent a FIFTH innominate contract, Miss Deema,” I said, “It’s called an ‘I give, please DON’T DO’ contract.” The whole class laughed.

“But you people get the idea,” I said, “the next time you’re looking at a contract that seems very complicated, just remember that if you strip it down to the basics, you will find it’s just one of those four innominate contracts—if it is not a nominate contract to begin with.”

The class smile, I know it when they are satisfied with a point of pure knowkedge sinking in their minds They look around and give each other high-fives. They love to do that. It annoys me.

“Now let me get back to LOANS. It is a nominate contract, there are lots of Civil Code provisions governing loans. Let’s start with the most basic of them. Miss Palindrome, can you read for us Article 1953 of your Civil Code.”

Hannah Maala jumped to her feet and read, “Article 1953, sir: a person who receives a loan of money or any other fungible thing acquires the ownership thereof, and is bound to pay to the creditor an equal amount of the same kind and quality.”

“ACQUIRES THE OWNERSHIP THEREOF!!!” I bellowed and banged on the blackboard so hard, it startled the whole class.

“I want you to take note of that! ACQUIRES THE OWNERSHIP THEREOF!!! When you take out a loan, you ACQUIRE OWNERSHIP OVER THE MONEY. THE MONEY IS YOURS, IT NO LONGER BELONGS TO THE CREDITOR! THAT'S WHY HE IS CALLED A CREDITOR! BECAUSE ALL HE OWNS IS JUST CREDIT NOW, NOT THE PROCEEDS OF THE LOAN, DID YOU ALL GET THAT??" ” I continued to bang the blackboard and yell aloud. Then I went silent, catching my breath.

“Are…are you okay, sir?” Deema said softly.

“I brought ziptie,” Jack whispered to her. “Ssshh!!!” Deema shushed him.

I gathered my composure and began to speak normally again, “I’m sorry class…it’s just that…uh… recently I have read the news about this…this…useless government agency called NEA,” I stopped to compose the rest of my thoughts first.

“…and this NEA stole P56-million belonging to a cooperative that was part of a LOAN obtained earlier by that cooperative,” I recited the facts.

“That’s us! That’s the electric cooperative I work for!” Laarnee Iwasan jumped to her feet. “Just what I‘ve been telling my classmates about!”

“We’re familiar with the case, sir” Juan Dimacaawat chimed in, “we’ve been brainstorming about it over the holiday break--Deema, Jack, Kata, Hannah, Joanna, Laarnee, Grippa, Julyrain and myself.”

“According to a dormant lady lawyer, sir, they didn’t steal the money, they just transferred it to a safer account that no one can touch so that the money would be safe,” Grippa said.

“Give me your cellphone, Miss Grippa.”

“Sir??”

“Your cellphone, give it to me,” I said. Gingerly the girl handed over to me her Samsung A12.

“Listen, everybody, I am not stealing Miss Grippa’s cellphone here,” I said, “I’m just going to keep it safe someplace none of you knows where. That way, nothing bad would happen to this phone. And this is such a nice gesture on my part, because I am such a nice guy. Can I get a little applause here, please?”

The class stayed silent.

“It’s just wrong, sir,” Deema said, “that phone is her property, she owns that and for you to take it from her possession and control with nothing she can do to retrieve it—” I didn’t let Deema finish.

“Oh, well, then how about this: Miss Grippa if you score better than 95% in your Final Exam this coming February 14, you can have your phone back. So as soon as you find out your score, call me right away!” I said.

“It’s still wrong, sir” Kata said, “why should Grippa have to meet a certain performance standard just to get her own property back? And how can she call you if you’re keeping her phone?”

“Well, why don’t you ask NEA the same question?” I asked back, “why should their giving back the cooperative’s P56-million be dependent on some performance achievement? And how can the cooperative attain those achievements if you hold the P56-million it’s supposed to use to make those achievements?”

“I read on Facebook, sir, that NEA is saying it is a regulatory body—" Jack started but I interrupted him.

“NOT when it signs a contract of loan! It goes down to the level of a creditor, where it is on equal footing with the obligor. It has the exact same burden and duty to comply in good faith with what is incumbent upon it under that contract!” I said emphatically, banging the blackboard the whole time.

“I’m a lawyer, a saxophone player and a teacher. You people wouldn’t like it if I started playing the saxophone in class. I wear three hats but I have to be mindful what hat I’m wearing at any given time. NEA wears many hats, too. Yes, it is a regulator, sometimes it even acts like a court. But it should not act like either one when it is wearing the hat of a creditor. Like I have to be, it must also be mindful of what hat it is wearing at any given time,” I explained.

“What contract is it when A gives something if B does something, again??” I asked the whole class.

“An ‘I give, you do’ innominate contract, sir” the class said feebly.

“WRONG!!!” I shouted, “Aren’t you people listening? I said strip down a contract to its basics, describe the action required of one party, describe the nature of what the other party is supposed to give and THEN look at what’s left of the barebones elements, that is the innominate contract, only if it is not a nominate contract to begin with,” I said.

“Analyze it well," I said, "What is NEA supposed to do?” I asked the class.

“Give P56-million, sir.”

“P56-million WHAT?? VIRUSES??”

“P56-million pesos, sir.”

“Ah, so MONEY! And what is the cooperative supposed to do? Eat the money??” I asked.

“No, sir. Spend it in some manner and then pay it back to NEA.”

“Read Article 1953 again, Miss Grippa,” I ordered.

“A person who receives a loan of money or any other fungible thing acquires the ownership thereof, and is bound to pay to the creditor—” I didn’t let her finish.

“What contract is THAT?” I asked.

“A CONTRACT OF LOAN, sir,” the class answered.

“Is that an innominate contract?”

“No, sir.”

“And if it is NOT an innominate contract, are the parties free to dictate the terms and conditions in any way their imagination permits?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not? Why can’t they call it a ‘NEA-style loan contract’ where they RETAIN OWNERSHIP OF THE PROCEEDS OF A LOAN AFTER THEY HAVE GRANTED A LOAN? Why can’t they do that?” I asked.

This time only Deema answered, “Because that would be contrary to law, sir. The law is clear, all nominate contracts are governed by the Civil Code provisions regarding those contracts. So if it involves the nominate contract of loan, the law does not give them the freedom to reinvent the concept of a loan.”

“What can the parties customize only in their contract of loan, Miss Deema?”

“Only the concept’s variables, sir--like the interest rate, mode of payment, period of payment, default provisions, all those elements which are uniform for all contracts of loan.”

“What can they NOT change?”

“The essential meaning of the loan concept, sir. It remains A delivers money to B, the money ceases to be A’s property, the money becomes B’s property and after some time B must pay it back.”

I let a brief spell of silence pass.

Then slowly I said, “You know class, NEA is playing a game called ‘monkey-see-monkey-do’ They have no originality, they’re copying what they’re seeing. These people are looking at financial institutions like the IMF-World Bank, or the EU Economic Council, the UNDP, ADB etc. When these banks lend money to the Philippines—money which we will pay back every dollar of—they come over here and tell our government what our interest rate should be, what our liquidity should be, how much money should be in circulation, what laws we should pass, what laws we should repeal, what our import duties and tariff restrictions should be, what our GDP and growth rates should be—they give us these economic targets. And they’re not contented with us aiming for these targets, they want to handpick the economic managers who will oversee that we hit the targets they want. They’d try to handpick our president if they could.”

“You see a parallel, sir?” Jack asked.

“I see a carbon copy,” I said, “when world banks lend us money, they don’t just want their money back. They want to own the country.”

“When NEA lends the cooperative money, they don’t just want their money back, they want to own the cooperative,” Laarnee said softly.

Deema stepped up, “But this time it will be different sir, this time they’re messing with the people’s cooperative. This time the people will not take it sitting down. And this time we have social media.”

“Good luck, Miss Deema,” I said, “good luck to all of you…class dismissed.”

“Here’s your phone back, Miss Grippa,” I handed back the girl’s cellphone, “Did you learn anything tonight?”

“Yes, sir. You are not NEA!”

S1L58 - Breaking down the Myth of Super-Untouchable Regulators

hy is it not possible to sue the State?

This is a question I have often been asked by my students, both in Political Science in the undergraduate program and in the College of Law.

The short answer is because of the “Social Contract Theory”—which, in itself, would be a pain to explain. It revolves around the dictum that "There can be no right against the authority that enacted the law that gave you the right."

That doesn't mean the State can absolutely do no wrong. It comes with the reservation that when MEN merely acting under the authority of the State abuse that authority--which man is prone to do--the People can override that authority, because in the ultimate analysis of the Social Contract that authority was only BORROWED from Them.

So whenever I read comments of trolls who say that it is wrong to fight government regulators (for example, that totally useless National Electrification Administration), no matter if they are right or wrong, I realize the extent of ignorance about the subject.

It needs to be addressed in the interest of advancing legal education, especially since these trolls say everybody other than themselves do not understand the law.

Kung sino pa yung bobo, siya pa yung mayabang.

First of all, the rule on non-suability of the State is not absolute. The State CAN be sued with its consent, which it may give knowingly, as when it enters into a contract with a citizen (individual or collective) or statutorily, as when its own charter says it can sue and be sued in its own name.

All administrative agencies have original charters (including NEA) and those charters give them juridical personality, or the fitness to become the subject of legal relations—and therefore, can be subject of litigation. In other words, the state being “non-suable” is more the exception than the rule.

So trolls who say people who “fight the authority of NEA” or this regulatory body and that, are not only wrong but are dangerously ignorant.

There used to be, of course, a world-class regime where to “fight the State” was treason of the highest order and was routinely meted severe penalties, like being banished to prolonged prison sentences in the labor camps of the Siberian gulags. That regime was the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) which no longer exists. It disintegrated with the crash of the Berlin Wall in November 1989.

Fighting the State, of course, does not only consist in going to court against it. Some trolls claim that failing to pay homage to these regulatory bodies, or displaying “ingratitude” despite receiving “subsidies, loans, and other financial aid” from these regulatory bodies also constitute “fighting the State.”

Just to disabuse everyone right from the outset about this “they” versus “state regulators” myth, it needs to be pointed out that the STATE as a political concept has four elements: TERRITORY, PEOPLE, GOVERNMENT and SOVEREIGNTY.

You see, NEA is not even an element--but PEOPLE are!

More importantly, you can see that SOVEREIGNTY is an element all by its own—it is NOT integral to GOVERNMENT.

Sometimes, my students especially the really persnickety ones, challenge me to RANK the elements in the order of their importance. I say I can’t do it, but what I can do is CATEGORIZE them into two: INHERENT and CONSTRUCTIVE.

Territory, People and Sovereignty are all INHERENT elements, take any one of them away and you do NOT have a state. Government is a CONSTRUCTIVE element--it was merely invented by the People. Take away government and the STATE will do fine. It will have difficulties centralizing law and enforcement but it will manage to get by.

I will not force you to believe the following, if you’re not a biblical Christian—but government came into existence as a result of the Israelites’ rebellion against the perfect guidance of God. I’m just paraphrasing here but essentially the Israelites told God, “You are such a killjoy, there’s just no fun in life with You around! We demand that you turn over the reigns of control over our lives to our hands! Anoint a king over us!”

God said, “Are you sure? I mean, a king would enslave you, take away your wealth, take away your liberty, put a yoke on your neck, send you to war, etc. etc.”

The Israelites said, “Naah, we’ll do fine! Just leave us alone.”

God said, “Okay then, I anoint Saul your new king. And I’ll leave you a constitution, be sure to read it!”

TO THIS DAY, human society still has not elected a perfect King. And to this day they still don’t read their Constitution!

But which ranks higher, NEA or the People? The best proof of the correct hierarchical order is this: we can always ABOLISH NEA--in fact, developments are proceeding towards that direction--but you can never abolish the People.

NEA does not realize this because it does not acknowledge that unlike the indestructible eternal Spirit of the People, NEA has clay feet.

This is also why to this day, you still have ignorant trolls.

S1L57 ; Public office is a public trust, fake diplomas don't count

ood evening, class…”

“Good evening, sir!” my Alpha Section class seemed totally refreshed by the long Christmas break, they looked ready to recite.

I, on the other hand, was ready to launch 2022 by centering their attention on what I feel would be the defining event of the year: the general elections.

“As you all know, 2022 is an election year,” I started to fire up their imagination, “the only time, really, when all Filipinos aged 18 and above can directly participate in government is during an election. After we elect our officials, these officials basically do everything for us the rest of their term, for good or for bad. So I want you to imagine an election as like firing a gun. You aim the gun and squeeze the trigger. The moment you have squeezed the trigger, that’s it. You just did the last thing you can do to ever have any effect on where the bullet hits. If you aimed right, you hit bullseye. If you aimed wrong, there’s no way to correct the bullet’s flight when it has left the gun.”

Deema raised her hand, waving it wildly in the air.

“Why, this is a first, Miss Deema,” I said, “normally you just recite even when I don’t call you. Now even BEFORE I DON’T call you, you’re raring to go,” it sends the class to its first collective chuckle for the year.

“I was just caught by what you just said, sir, it’s so apropos in this election campaign where every candidate is promising the moon and the stars to the people just to win their votes. But I think we should not vote for candidates based on what they promise. A promise, by definition, is always ideal. But the moment we elect somebody wrong who obviously cannot deliver the promise, there is no chance for any mid-course correction.” Deema said.

“Then I say we should vote based on what they promise,” Jack Makataruz interrupted.

Oh no, the 'Deema virus' is spreading, I thought. Now I have TWO students who just babble on without being called. Jack, who rides to school on a motorcycle, continued.

“I think taking note of what they promise is the best way to approximate their chances of succeeding. It’s like making the decision what motorcycle to buy,” Jack said.

“That’s a very interesting analogy to propose, Jack, even though I’m not sure I get what you mean. Although I know you ride a motorcycle,” I said, trying to draw him into explaining further.

“Oh, but Jack’s motorcycle is really TINY sir, teeny tiny small,” Deema butted in, “that’s why he sports a Mohawk hairstyle to make up for it with cool points!” everybody laugh. Jack rolled his eyes.

OH NO! The virus is REALLY spreading now. Now I have two eyerollers.

“Let’s allow Jack to finish explaining his analogy, shall we? Go ahead Jack—motorcycles and electoral candidates—THIS I wanna hear.” I said.

“My pleasure, sir. I just returned from a family reunion in Kapangan, riding my motorbike. I rode 1,063 kilometers on dirt roads, some poorly paved ones, some in mud. On a long stretch, I rode for 4 hours straight, stopping only to fix a puncture, it was dark by the time I arrived at my destination. I had to deal with uncourteous motorists, they hogged my lane, they don’t dim their lights, they raced me and they obstructed me and their machines are all bigger than mine. I rode through the forest where there were no houses or people for several kilometers, I rode my small, tiny motorbike and I got to where I wanted to go and was able to come back fine. Now, I need a bigger bike.”

The class and I were looking at him the whole time.

“Aaaah..yeeeaaaah…we’re really getting it now,” I said.

“Jack, do you have a point or did you drop it somewhere in the middle of that forest road??” Deema asked impatiently.

“My point is, you can ride any motorcycle, big or small, you never know what bike you need until you try to get someplace you’ve never been.” Jack said, with a look on his face that almost says “don’t you still get it, you dummies?”

“We’re almost there, Jack,” I said.

“You see, sir, before I started the trip, all I knew was everything about my tiny bike,” Jack said.

“Everybody knows about your tiny bike, it’s a model called ‘Hairdryer 125” Deema glossed.

“Shut up, Miss Deema, let Jack finish,” I refereed.

Jack continued, “I didn’t know very much about the road ahead. If I had known I was going to ride the Dakar-to-Paris Rally, I won’t even bother starting my engine. But if the job is just to deliver pizza, my bike is fine. It won’t win any races but it will run forever. Candidates are the same. They all have their given capability, so the only question is how that capability measures up to the job—and the job is defined by the lofty promises they make. If the job was just to take care of few hundred people, then maybe someone with the experience of a barangay captain would do just fine.

Gladys, the older of the Ondafli twins from Sagada, born on Lizardo Bus No 57, raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Gladys Ondafli (pronounced “on-the-fly”), go fly ahead,” I said with a big grin on my face.

“Sir, I think I get Jack’s point. Some of us focus on a candidate’s credentials, some of us focus on the awesome big job of the office they’re running for. Jack is saying we should, instead, focus on matching the credentials with the job.”

“That, certainly sounds rational to me,” I said.

Glad, the other Ondafli twin younger by ten minutes than Gladys, stood up, “I don’t agree, sir.”

“I didn’t see you raise your hand, Miss Glad,” I said.

“I didn’t, sir,” Glad admitted and then changed the tone of her voice to mimic MY voice and then said in sing-song voice, “because you two are twins there’s great commonality between the two of you, so only one of you needs to---”

“Okay, okay, I did say that,” I blurted, “so go ahead, tell us why you disagree with Jack and Gladys here.”

“I’m thinking of one candidate in particular, sir, his credential shows he has a masters degree in business administration and graduate degree in social studies. I think those are the best courses to prepare one for national government administration,” Glad said.

“I agree,” I said, “is there any problem with that?”

“There is, sir. He claims he got his masters degree from Wharton University, and his graduate degree from Oxford University but neither school has any record of him completing any semester there, let alone graduating.”

“Can’t we give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe they just mispelled his name in the school records,” I said.

“Or he mispelled the name of his school, sir, maybe he meant Hogwarts nor Wharton!” Glad smirked. Hogwarts University, of course, is where Harry Potter learned to ride the broomstick.

“There’s no record of him in Hogwarts, either, sir!” Deema blurted out.

“Speaking as an alumnus, Miss Deema?” I said, “but never mind, class. You all make excellent points. Jack and Gladys are correct that the job of, say, the President, requires a certain competence. But Glad is even MORE correct that the competence must be actually POSSESSED by the candidate, and not just self-claimed. But you’re all missing a very basic point. Whether he finished in Wharton University or karton university doesn’t really make any difference. Where in the constitution does it even say the president has to be a college graduate?” I said.

“Nowhere, sir,” Deema answered, “just like we aspire to make ours ‘a government of laws and not of men’ but that phrase is not found in the Constitution, either.”

Then Jack added, “we also like to say that our democracy aims to make ours a government ‘of the People, by the People and for the People’ but that’s not found in the Constitution, either sir!”

Then Kata added, “Let’s not forget we also say that ‘the voice of the People is the voice of God’—well, that’s not found in the Constitution, either, sir!”

“Alright, alright, lots of things are evidently NOT found in our Constitution Can somebody quote me something that IS found in the Constitution that talks about the qualifications required of a president that makes it relevant whether he really graduated from college or not?”

“That would be Article XI, Section 1, sir,” Deema declared and then recited straight from memory, “Public office is a public trust. Public officers and employees must, at all times, be accountable to the people, serve them with utmost responsibility, integrity, loyalty, and efficiency; act with patriotism and justice, and lead modest lives.”

“If a presidential candidate lies about his educational attainment, sir, how can we ever TRUST him about anything else?” Deema continued, “and like you said, educational attainment is not even a big deal as far as the Constitution is concerned. So if a guy can’t even be truthful about something so trivial, how can we expect him to be truthful to the people about something as huge, and heavy and consequential as the national destiny?”

I have to admit, these young idealistic law juniors drive a hard and strong argument. “So is it safe to assume from all that you said that you people are not voting for Mister Fake Diploma?” I asked.

“Only if we’re filling up a fake ballot, sir!” they all chorused.

“Then I rest HIS case, class dismissed!” I said, then banged the black---"Hey! WHO painted this blackboard ledge PINK?? Miss Deema!!!”

The girl was gone before I could grab her.