Ping’s sting
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.
