| Carranza means business when it comes
to hunting down the Marcos wealth. Behind his cluttered desk at the Mandaluyong
office of the Presidential Commission on Good Government hangs a giant
portrait of Imelda Marcos, the arched eyebrows telegraphing disdain and
defiance.
That the former First Lady appears to be peering over his shoulders does
not bother him, says Carranza of the incongruous painting, a gift to Marcoses
from former Cavite governor Johnny Remulla during one of their anniversaries,
and one of the items seized by the PCGG from a Marcos property.
No, he is not obsessed with pinning Imelda against the wall or hanging
her, says Carranza, addressing common remarks on his inordinate zeal about
his job. The painting, he says, reminds him of "Imelda’s hubris,
for her to think that she could keep these things with her."
His mandate with the PCGG is to prove her and other Marcos cronies wrong,
says Carranza, who was appointed to the Commission in 2001 under President
Arroyo. And so far, he and the other PCGG officials-chair Haydee Yorac
and Commissioners Vyva Victoria Aguirre, Vicky Avena and William Dichoso-
have done just that . Last week, the Supreme Court issued a final ruling
that forfeited $683 million or P37.5 billion of the disputed Marcos money
to the government. The biggest haul so far in the PCGG’s 17-year
history, the ruling has been widely hailed not only as "a triumph
of law but a moral victory."
That the High Court managed to wrestle the money from the tangled records
of 17 years and the fading memory of witnesses Carranza credits to the
Supreme Court’s "sense of history. This Supreme Court understands
the history of the Marcos wealth. And that explains the Davide impeachment
move and why some politicians are running." The move to oust Chief
Justice Hilario Davide in November, adds Carranza, was meant to emasculate
the High Court, whose recent ruling against industrialist Danding Cojuangco
on the coco levy funds has prompted a realignment of his political allies
in Congress.
But why did it take so long for the PCGG to produce results? The job,
says Carranza, "is well-defined but mishandled, with wrong judgment
thrown in." The Estrada Administration, he adds, virtually sat on
the cases. "I wish I were here 10 years ago. Not that I see myself
as a redeemer; just that I could have done what should have been done
in the first place."
He sums up the single biggest challenge that the PCGG faces: "How
do you go after a dictator who had time to hide his tracks? There is no
smoking gun and if there is, he managed to keep it very well."
But dealing with the other courts of the land can be the most frustrating
part of the job, adds Carranza. "Can you imagine one former Ombudsman
asking for receipts in the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant case against Westinghouse?
You mean people actually give receipts for bribes? Thankfully, he says,
"with Ombudsman Simeon Marcelo, there’s been a big difference."
The PCGG has so far filed close to 1000 civil cases against the Marcoses
and their cronies, says Carranza, 43 of them before the Ombudsman. "We
only need one conviction to put Imelda in jail."
Such pronouncements have led some people to regard Carranza as too raw
and idealistic and indeed, Carranza, 39, admits that his youth is sometimes
taken against him. Despite his activist past, he is a realist, he says.
"At the PCGG, we identified what we wanted to win right from the
start and went from there."
It was his idealistic streak that prompted him to accept a post at the
Defense department under President Ramos, he says. As Asst. Defense Secretary,
Carranza thought he could apply his notion of "civilian supremacy
in the military." But citing "impossible struggles," he
gave up after two years. "I had to choose my battles."
But his two-year stint in the military has not been for naught, says this
lawyer, listing down some of his proudest moments on the job: "I
helped Sen. Orly Mercado draft the AFP Modernization Law and authored
the protocol being used by the Social Welfare department to deal with
child soldiers."
He was also instrumental in our sending of a battalion of Filipino peacekeepers
to East Timor, says Carranza. "I drafted very clear rules of engagement
here: no rosaries, please!" he adds of the regional conflict that
pivoted on religious differences. He severed his ties with the Defense
department during the Estrada impeachment in December 2000.
Born in Manila but raised in Cebu, the young Carranza knew early on that
he had to work his way to school. His mother was a single parent who didn’t
even finish high school and hawked cooked food for a living. "I got
by through the kindness of relatives, scholarships and public schools,"
he recalls. When he took up Political Science at UP Cebu, he naturally
drifted towards the student movement and became chair of the student council.
"I was only 19 when I joined the Welgang Bayan in 1984." says
Carranza of the resurgent protest movement against the Marcoses a few
months after returning former Senator Aquino was gunned down at the airport.
Detained with 14 others and charged with inciting to sedition, he recalls
that he was only wearing slippers when the group was brought to Camp Lapu-Lapu.
Before he knew what was happening, one of the soldiers wearing combat
boots stomped hard on his toes. "I cried real tears of pain. My mother
didn’t even know I had been arrested.
Although he was released shortly through the intercession of Cardinal
Ricardo Vidal, his arrest had left a mark on him. In fact, detractors
are wont to point out that his status as an ex-detainee during martial
law has led him to a personal vendetta against the Macoses. Carranza denies
this. "It’s not a matter of personal grudge or politics, but
of doing the right thing."
At that time in Cebu, the right thing to do was to work as an intern for
human rights lawyer Al Surigao, who had assisted him during his arrest.
Says Carranza, "Atty. Surigao once sent me to a picket line to talk
with the strike leaders when trouble broke out. I had to hide behind some
cargo vans. But Al was hunted down, and in 1987, while I was in law school,
he was shot pointbank by vigilantes."
Carranza had to flee Cebu shortly after because of similar threats to
his life. In Manila, he found shelter in the house of UP professor Vivencio
Jose. "It was the last day of registration and I barely made it to
UP Diliman and a law career."
It was while practicing law from 1991 to 1998 that Carranza met Mercado,
chair of the Senate Defense Committee who propelled him through a DND
posting. His PCGG job he owes to former classmates who acted as prosecutors
in the Estrada impeachment, and to former Commission on Elections chair
Haydee Yorac, who now heads the anti- plunder body. "I had refused
other offers, but when I learned that Haydee was chairing the PCGG, I
readily accepted it." says Carranza. "It helps to have her as
flag carrier,"he says of his feisty colleague at the UP College of
Law, where he remains a faculty member.
Easily the most visible of the PCGG commissioners and known for his candor
and fighting words during media interviews, Carranza has so far earned
three motions to cite him for contempt, several libel cases, threats,
and severe criticisms about alleged "conflict of interest" in
some newspaper columns.
One columnist identified with Cojuangco has alleged that Carranza sits
in the board of nine companies that the PCGG is reportedly investigating.
Not true, he says. "I only sit in three companies"United Coconut
Planters Bank, TV network IBC-13, and the Coconut Industry Investment
Fund"and I do so as part of my job. I have to make sure that the
assets are not dissipated because they could be public money."
Another pressure has been to prove himself wise beyond his years and his
boyish looks. "Well, it’s not like I jumped from Kinder to
Law School. I’m in charge of litigation but I let my work speak
for myself."
If at all, says PCGG chair and colleagues Haydee Yorac, it’s not
Carranza’s youth but his"intensity" that can be a problem
on the job. "He talks more than is necessary, so sometimes he gets
in a fix for making pronouncements that may not be accurate." Otherwise,
he’s a "good team playr," says Yorac, who has known Carranza
for at least 10 years now.
With the May elections and politics putting in jeopardy the gains the
PCGG has made so far, the real pressure has been to speed up the work
and "put the plunderers in jail."
He used to bring home some of his work, until his infant son tore it apart,
he says. Carranza, who got married to a former student in law school only
last year, is expecting his second-born, twins according to the ultrasound.
These days, when he’s not mulling the future after PCGG ("I’d
probably go back to private practice"), he’s strumming the
guitar and singing to his wife and son. Sometimes there’s time to
watch a movie on DVD ("Kill Bill Vol. I"), read a book ("I
Shall Know Your Velocity"by Dave Eggers), or play computer games
(Sim City 4,"Metal Gear Solid,"both role-playing games".
He’s a techno-buff, says Carranza and so far, the PCGG has digitized
400,000 pages of plunder-related documents.
But the biggest reward that keeps him going, he says, is getting results
out of the PCGG’s efforts and "feeling the immeasurable joy
of knowing that justice sometimes happens in this country." |