Nag-iisang Isagani A. Cruz

Reading Supreme Court decisions is dreary. The decisions are so long that after reading them, all you want to do is sleep. But rarely does one experience it if one were to read a decision written by former Associate Justice Isagani A. Cruz. They say Justice Cruz is one of those rare breed of lawyers who could both write and reason well. Here's a random sample and you be judge:

"Zeal in the pursuit of criminals cannot ennoble the use of arbitrary methods that the Constitution itself abhors." (Bagalihog vs. Fernandez, G.R. No. 96356 June 27, 1991)

"Laws must come out in the open in the clear light of the sun instead of skulking in the shadows with their dark, deep secrets...The furtive law is like a scabbarded saber that cannot feint, parry or cut unless the naked blade is drawn." (Tañada vs. Tuvera, G.R. No. L-63915 December 29, 1986).

"The possible exception is the lawyer whose income is derived from teaching ballroom dancing or escorting wrinkled ladies with pubescent pretensions." (Dissenting, Cayetano vs. Monsod, G.R. No. 100113 September 3, 1991)

"[S]ocial justice –– or any justice for that matter –– is for the deserving, whether he be a millionaire in his mansion or a pauper in his hovel. It is true that, in case of reasonable doubt, we are called upon to tilt the balance in favor of the poor, to whom the Constitution fittingly extends its sympathy and compassion. But never is it justified to prefer the poor simply because they are poor, or to reject the rich simply because they are rich, for justice must always be served, for poor and rich alike, according to the mandate of the law." (Gelos vs. CA, G.R. No. 86186 May 8, 1992)

"Unless we are vigilant of our rights, we may find ourselves back to the dark era of the truncheon and the barbed wire, with the Court itself a captive of its own complaisance and sitting at the death-bed of liberty." (Dissenting, Valmonte vs. De Villa,G.R. No. 83988 September 29, 1989)

Update: See Justice Cruz's concurring opinion in Adiong vs. COMELEC, G.R. No. 103956 March 31, 1992 and dissenting in National Press Club vs. COMELEC, G.R. No. 102653 March 5, 1992.

Strive for Simplicity, Not Legal Pugnacity

Justices, judges, lawyers, and law students are a brilliant lot. Too often, however, their brilliance is lost when they start writing down their ideas. The case of Leonor vs. CA  drives home this point.

The decision of the Trial Court regarding the merits of the case is as repugnant as the manner by which the decision was written. This is the first paragraph of the judge's decision, quoted in Footnote 13:

This is an action for “Cancellation of Entry in the Civil Registry” particularly on the marriage contract of one Mauricio Leonor, Jr. and Virginia Amor supposedly to have taken place in a long distance past on March 13, 1960 and after a Rip Van Winkle sleep and dormancy liken to a Mt. Pinatubo explosion that rocked the peace and quiet in the lives of the supposedly participants to this drama in Calatrava and San Carlos City, Negros Occidental when out of the blue one party in the person of an aggrieved left-behind spouse revived and revealed an ancient piece of marital bond between her and a reluctant spouse.

What's wrong with the paragraph? Everything, except perhaps for the spelling.

No less than the Supreme Court, through Justice Panganiban, called the language of the decision "convoluted," "painfully a sophomoric and pathetic portrayal" of Virginia, the petitioner in this case.

Further, the Court tersely remarked, "The said decision’s crude attempt at literary sophistication is matched only by its jarring syntax and grammatical incongruencies."

In his essay "On Developing My Decision-Writing Style," former Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban, this time not writing for the Court, shared the motive behind every decision he wrote.

"Even though my decisions are written primarily to resolve legal issues and are thus emblazoned with a considerable amount of legalese," he said, "I have endeavored to write in simple English, comprehensible as much as possible to a high school graduate.  I want to be understood not only by the legal profession but also by the parties themselves, especially by persons accused of crimes, and by the public at large as regards cases involving interpretation of the Constitution."

"More than lingual elegance and even legal pugnacity," he further said, "I strive for simplicity, clarity and precision in nuances and shades of meanings.  I believe the trend in all professions and occupations -- be they medicine, theology, science or music -- is to be understood not just by the members of that particular discipline but by the public at large."

Thus, lawyers and law students alike should strive for the same simplicity, clarity, and precision. After all, writing aims to reveal rather than conceal.

Sakses!

[caption id="attachment_2366" align="aligncenter" width="510"] The book is published by Central Bookstore.[/caption]

A law student's life is filled with drudgery. But, as Blas Ople said, "Every one of us has his proud moments that seem to recapitulate all past struggles---that lift us from our plain and humdrum lives to an exalted state."

I just recently have one such moment. In August this year, the Philippine Association of Law Schools (PALS) organized a nationwide essay writing contest for law students.

Out of the participants from Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao, ten finalists would be chosen. Of the ten, three would be declared winners.

Why I said I recently have my proud moment? Lest you be misled, I didn't win. Here are the winners:

• 1st Place: Archimedes D. Suganob of St. Mary's College of Law, Tagum City.


• 2nd Place: Julius Caesar Domingo of St. Mary's University, Bayombong Nueva Vizcaya.


• 3rd Place: Euangeli P. Doromal of Cor Jesu College, Digos City.

I'm proud that two of the winners come from Mindanao. I think they all deserve to win, for how can a lowly man like me beat a mathematician/physicist, a Roman Emperor, and an angel?

Seriously, though, I'm proud because PALS has this little book called "In The Eyes of Law Students: The Secret Formula of Teaching Law," which contains, among others, the essays of the winners and ten other finalists.

What of it?

Nothing, except that I'm one of the finalists and my essay is in the book. If you're someone who has a literary pretensions, seeing your work published  is like releasing the feces that have been inside your stomach for quite a while.

No wonder, people say "Sakses!" after defecating.

Fellows for the Davao Writers Workshop 2010

The Davao Writers Guild, in cooperation with the National Commission for Culture and the Arts and University of the Philippines-Mindanao, proudly announces the Fellows for the Davao Writers Workshop 2010:

Short Story
April Dawn M. Paramio
Arvin Antonio V. Ortiz
Freeda Ko Quejada
Jayson E Parba

Essay
Ella Jade Ismael
Seneca Pellano

Play
Hiyasmin Gabriela Espejo

Poetry
Erika Navaja
Friedrich Simon C Layno
Gino Boy Dolorzo
Iryne O. Kaamino
James Roy C. Pascual
Reymond L Pepito

The workshop will take place on May 3 to 7 at Lispher Inn, Juna Subdivision, Matina, Davao City.

What do you get when you read 'The Pelican Brief'?

I'm having sleepless nights these days. It's been two nights already. No, I wasn't crying because I was jilted by a woman. Firstly, I don't cry over a woman. Secondly, I don't have a girlfriend right now, and I don't have a plan of getting one. At least, not now.

It doesn't, however, mean I wasn't sleeping at all. It only means the hours I allot for sleep have been slashed. I normally go to sleep at eight. But lately, I reached until 10 before I dozed off.

And that's all because of John Grisham's "The Pelican Brief," which I bought at Bookshop---where else, there is a dearth of bookstores in Davao City---last Sunday when it finally opened after undergoing a month-long face lift.

I'm a slow reader unlike Truman Capote who said he could read an average of about "five books a week." He said, "the normal-length novel takes me about two hours." How fast! A 400-page novel usually takes me four days to finish, so that's 100 pages a day. Before I read mostly during the day. Seldom do I read in the evening---evenings aren't reserved for reading, in our house they're for watching May Bukas Pa and PBB.

Today, I think I'll be reading more slowly, in the night, as the day will be dedicated to more pressing and stressful matters: preparing lesson plans, making visual aids, reading on the subject that I'll be teaching (I heard I will be assigned to third year (World History) and fourth year classes (Economics), and other things that make a single teacher forever single.

Back to “The Pelican Brief.” As usual, I liked it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bought it and read it in the first place. I liked it only because it involves lawyers and a law student, and I dreamed to be a lawyer.

Enough said.

'The Grand Complication'

The corner behind the Circulation section of the HCDC-H.S. Library is one place that's frequented by students. Their reason, I guess, is not so much to look for some good reads as it is to hide from the watchful eyes of the librarian and the student assistants.

One dull afternoon, I went there not to scold some noisy students, but to look for a book that could while my time away.

Tom Wolfe's "Bonfire of the Vanities" is there as well as such literary gems as Gertrude Stein's "Lucy Church Amiably," Albert Camus' "La Peste" (The Plague), and Graham Greene's "The Captain and the Enemy."

After going over one book after another, I settled for "The Grand Complication" by Allen Kurzweil.

Is my taste so bad that I bypassed Camus or Greene or Stein for Kurzweil?

What a semester!

The semester is over, and I can say that this semester is by far the most productive semester that I've ever had. Not that I was slumbering the previous semesters or, as the Bisaya would put it, nagpadako ra ko'g itlog. It's just that this semester alone, I've done things I never did before:

Excerpt: Two Promises

Below is an excerpt from the story I've written. Set in Davao City, "Two Promises" is a story of two people---one is a wife, the other is a group of people---whose experiences became a metaphor for each other. If you find that the story really sucks, tell me that it sucks.

OVER DINNER, Juana was intently listening to Carlos, her eldest son, who was talking about his first week in school when suddenly it dawned on her that the seat across hers, the seat reserved for her husband, was vacant. It had been so for six years now. Carlos stopped talking. He noticed the sad look in her mother’s eyes as she’s staring at the vacant seat.

“Are you not angry of Papa?” Carlos asked.

“No,” Juana said.

“Do you still love Papa?”

“Yes.”

“But how can you love him when he left you, us?”

For a while she was dumbfounded. She didn’t know what to say. Until now she had not yet found an answer to the question, one that could satisfy the questioner and herself. Whenever someone asked her that question, whether it’s her son, or her sons’ or daughters’ teacher, or her neighbors, her standard response was to steer the conversation away. She was about to say something to stave off her son’s question when they heard a knock on the door.

“I’ll open it,” said Maria, the second child of Juana.

“No, I’ll open it,” Juana insisted. “Stay there and finish your food.”

When Juana opened the door, a lanky man, more than five feet tall, stood before her. He was bearded; his eyes deep-set; his cheeks sunken. He’s probably in his thirties, but he looked old for his age. His face was that of a man who seemed to have spent his lifetime worrying and whining and womanizing. Haggard might be the apt word to describe him.

Juana barely recognized him. If it were not for the man’s mole on the left part of his face, just an inch below the eye, she wouldn’t have recognized that the man standing before her is her husband, Hipolito, who, as far as Juana’s reckoning was concerned, had been gone for six years.

“Juana, I’m back,” Hipolito said, his eyes swelling with tears.

But Juana didn’t heed him; her attention was glued on the things Hipolito was holding. In his left was a bundle of three red roses. In his right was a small nigo covered with a silver foil. Juana knew what’s beneath the covering—pancit guisado. The roses and the nigo of pancit guisado brought her back to the days, those sweet and carefree days, when Hipolito was courting her; back to the time when she was not Juana but Jane; and Hipolito, Lito.