A Road to Incivility

“Civility is to the courtroom and adversary process what antiseptic is to a hospital and operating room. The best medical brains cannot outwit soiled linen or dirty scalpels – and the best legal skills cannot either justify or offset bad manners.” – Justice Warren E. Burger


When Republic v. Court of Appeals and Roridel Olaviano Molina# came out on February 13, 1997, Solicitors were given marching orders to appear as defensor vinculi (defender of the bond) to represent the Republic. By all accounts, it was taxing because we had already a hard time squeezing our time writing our comment or People’s brief and our out of town hearings.

One time, armed with a written opposition, I appeared before a regional trial court in Quezon City. Just like any other cases, I usually go directly to the branch clerk of court to leave my tailor-made certificate of appearance for signature before the start of a hearing. As I was having a small talk with the branch clerk of court about the impact of the Molina Doctrine, the court interpreter barged in and introduced herself to me. I have a gut-feeling that she is up into something for cutting in.

As you might expect, once I settled in the court room and as litigants were coming in trickles, the mannish court interpreter approached me again and asked me if I am raring to go with my opposition. “Of course”, what am I here for?” was my tart reply. She then told me that somebody just wants to talk to me.

Soon enough, that “somebody” came in a flash. The court interpreter lost no time and introduced him to me. He was in his late 40’s but he looks so 70’s - he was wearing a vintage double knit plaid suit and was sporting sideburns below his shaggy hair. He extended his hand to shake as I was stiffly seated at the front row. I maintained my stiff and stoic bearing to ward off any sinister move all the time. And this simple trick always work but maybe not this time because this lawyer was so pushy that he bluntly told me not to pursue my opposition and he will give me half of his appearance fees. A half-price lawyer…Huh? This is not Vegas, for crying out loud! I laughed down his silly proposal; and turn my back on him. He was mumbling something inaudible as he was leaving the court room which I did not mind at all. And I hoped that whoever might be listening simply was not interested.

When the case was called out, I pursued my opposition with no let-up; and argued for it as I gave the lawyer a black look.

As the gavel bangs for the next case, the lawyer tapped my back again and whispered, “KJ ka talaga, Solicitor”, and left the court room. Darn it! “Think him as a serpent’s egg, which hatch’d, would, as his kind, grow mischievous”.#

When I got back to the office, I shared my experience to my Assistant Solicitor General in between our lunch at the 10th Floor. He was laughing. It was nostalgic, he frankly said to me. Kidding aside, he gave me a piece of advice – “watch out, more storms are coming”. “Yes, no sweat Judge”, I assuredly replied, and chowed down.

Bench Notes: One day John Marshall and his fellow Supreme Court justices, having heard disturbing rumors of their own excessive drinking, jointly agreed to abstain on their weekly consultation day - unless it was raining. The following consultation day, Marshall (the Chief Justice) instructed Joseph Story to go to the window and check for signs of inclement weather.
Story soon reported back: "Mr. Chief Justice, I have very carefully examined this case," he declared, "and I have to give it as my opinion that there is not the slightest sign of rain."
"Justice Story," Marshall replied, "I think that is the shallowest and most illogical opinion I have ever heard you deliver. You forget that our jurisdiction is as broad as the Republic, and by the laws of nature it must be raining some place in our jurisdiction. Waiter, bring on the rum!"
(Source: www.Anecdotage.com)
By Judge Enrique Z. Trespeces