|
HOW could that have happened to Sen. Panfilo “Ping” Lacson?
That was the question on everybody’s mind
following the dud of a testimony given by Leo San Miguel before the
Senate probe of the national broadband deal. For publicity’s sake,
Lacson had built up San Miguel’s scheduled appearance before the
blue-ribbon inquiry. Filipinos were made to expect that the new
resource person would offer the same level of entertainment, which
the now-famous Jun Lozada has provided the public.
As it turned out, however, San Miguel’s
testimony became a source of major embarrassment to Lacson—for
several reasons.
First, palpable is the public’s frustration
over Lacson’s failure to satisfy their expectation that the new
witness would be as exciting, if not as entertaining, as Lozada.
Second, San Miguel’s testimony tends to show
that not everybody is afraid of the top cop-turned-lawmaker. For 12
hours Lacson tried to badger San Miguel into saying in the Senate
hearing what the two of them allegedly discussed in private. But San
Miguel dug in and stuck to his line—forcing Lacson to utter the
scary words, “My patience has its limits.”
San Miguel did not flinch, however—apparently
unintimidated by Lacson’s fearsome reputation.
Third, the San Miguel dud tends to show that
Lacson is highly vulnerable to unreliable or deliberately misleading
information. The senator’s press statements always carry the
standard qualifier, “I have information that . . . ” It gave the
impression that the former chief of the Philippine National Police
has maintained an intelligence network, which possesses dossiers on
just about anybody who matters in this country.
The San Miguel debacle loudly hinted that some
of the senator’s intelligence sources might actually be peddling
reports designed to mislead and embarrass him. Not a few observers
now think that his much-vaunted machinery of spooks and stoolies has
become what makes the senator vulnerable.
Given the embarrassment that San Miguel has
caused him, Lacson should now take a second look at Dante Madriaga,
author of the “Greedy Four Plus Plus” tale. It was Madriaga who
created in Lacson’s mind the impression that San Miguel was a
major player in the NBN-ZTE deal.
Madriaga’s “revelations” may have given
the notion that San Miguel was in possession of a potential
bombshell. Lacson may have unwittingly bought Madriaga’s pitch
about the value of a San Miguel appearance at the blue-hearing
inquiry.
As the saying goes, once burned twice shy.
Lacson should now take a second look at everything that Madriaga has
said at the inquiry—and elsewhere. The senator should now
determine whether or not Madriaga’s so-called bombshells were
merely meant to sell San Miguel to Lacson.
Observers suspect that Lacson has been had and
that San Miguel was not alone in a conspiracy to embarrass him,
deliberately or otherwise.
Evidently, it was Madriaga who inflated the
value of San Miguel whom the former insisted was part of the Greedy
Four. That description generated excitement for San Miguel, which
was magnified through a second label, “surprise witness.”
Clearly, the biggest surprise was on Lacson. And
the public is startled that despite his much-vaunted intelligence
apparatus, Lacson could still be flabbergasted.
As far as many observers are concerned, the San
Miguel dud further eroded what credibility Madriaga still has. It
has now become harder and harder to accept what he has said—and
what he would say in the future.
Was Lacson set up with a scheme that exposed his
vulnerability to bum steers, which sounds even more humiliating in
its Tagalog translation—kuryente.
Too bad, the confirmation that Madriaga has no
credibility virtually dismisses his own allegation that former
presidential chief of staff Mike Defensor was somehow involved in
the NBN-ZTE scandal. Did Madriaga drag Defensor’s name into the
controversy merely to spice up his tall tale?
Madriaga may be aware of it or not, but there is
an ongoing smear campaign against Defensor, which knowledgeable
sources say is being carried out by the “Thunderbird Gang.”
The clique’s moniker has nothing to do with
the classic coupe that giant automaker Ford first rolled out in the
1950s. The gang takes its name from its members’ “I love my
own” syndrome. The hatchet job on Defensor is, according to
knowledgeable sources, all about local politics.
Lacson should not allow characters like Madriaga
and San Miguel to highlight the chinks in the senator’s armor. He
obviously has been had—and it will take some time for people to
forget that he was publicly shamed by a nationally televised dud.
Lacson should also take a second look at his
intelligence apparatus and clean it up before it is manipulated
again by a San Miguel-type caper. The ex-PNP chief’s edge over his
political rivals is his uncanny ability to get the “goods” on
anyone he targets.
Another Leo San Miguel-type flop, and people
might start to think that Ping has lost his sting.
mlatimes@gmail.com
|
