MANILA, Philippines - I don’t know why, but every time Miriam Defensor-Santiago proposes something seriously, I feel amused. Maybe because she takes herself seriously when the world doesn’t. Her latest proposal is for the Senate to oust Antonio Trillanes. She has called on the senators to abandon political partisanship and unite to punish a transgressor.

She seems to have forgotten that not too long ago she -- along with Juan Ponce Enrile and several other erstwhile pro-Joseph Estrada political figures -- goaded a throng that gathered at the EDSA Shrine to "sugod" [attack] Malacañang. Later, she even dared government to arrest her, putting a gun on top of her desk in front of TV cameras to suggest a “High Noon” scenario if the cops were to do it. To this day, I wonder why the cops did not -- and maybe help to produce a different ending to the movie.

Santiago never got to be punished for it. She lost neither office nor personal liberty. All she lost was her love for Estrada, to be replaced by a love for the very person she was goading the hapless horde (some were killed in the subsequent riot) to lay siege to.

Not as amusing and far more serious are the criticisms in the blogs about why Trillanes and Lim should take the mutinous path again when Trillanes, in particular, agreed to be bound by constitutional/legal processes when he ran for senator, and why anyone would want to oust a leader whose term is near to expiring, such as two-and-a-half years can be construed as near.

In the first case, well, the question precisely is whether there are still constitutional/legal processes left in the country with which to right wrongs or redress grievances. The spectacle today suggests that it’s not merely that, as in Ferdinand Marcos’ time, the people who run the country are free to ignore constitutional and legal process, if indeed they know such things exist. It’s also that, as in Marcos’ time, the constitutional or legal processes, or their interpretation and implementation, lie in the hands of the unconstitutional and lawless.

Being abroad offers the advantage of seeing this in a clearer light. Britain is currently rocked by a political crisis of debilitating proportions. Barely had Gordon Brown warmed his seat as prime minister when he was beset by a scandal that has put him and his party, Labour, fighting for dear life. The scandal comes from illegal contributions to the Labour Party during the campaign. A property developer named David Abrahams has apparently contributed 650,000 pounds to the party under false pretenses by coursing it through third parties.

The question is whether Labour officials took the money in good faith or not. Labour secretary-general Peter Watt, who accepted the third-party contributions, promptly admitted he was aware of their source and resigned. Brown has tried to look resolute in resolving the issue, declaring his intention to punish the guilty, but he has been getting it right and left from Parliament. One MP provoked much laughter by saying that if Brown himself wasn’t aware of what his minions were doing, then he showed ineptness of the sort that made him out to be not Mr. Brown but Mr. Bean.

Now, you compare this crime with the kinds of crimes the current occupant of Malacañang is charged with, and you’ll be hard put to understand how we can put up with our case. The British prime minister is merely accused of heading a party that accepted an illegal contribution. Our President is known to have called up a Commission on Elections official with a view to defrauding the voters. Our President is known to have bribed local officials with half a million pesos each, the transfer of money taking place right in the Palace.

Yet in their case, it’s all their prime minister can now do to keep his head above water. In our case, it’s all we can do to keep our President from spending taxpayers’ money to visit the Queen. In their case, given a case that involves the ethics of public officials, elected officials have moved to abandon partisanship and call for the wrongdoers to be punished. In our case, well, you wonder how Santiago got to package herself as a brilliant constitutionalist, given her concept of what things senators ought not to be partisan about. In their case, when MPs say let the law take its course, the public is reasonably sure the law will live up to its reputation as having a long arm. In our case, when the congressmen say let the law take its course, you see law take the face of Raul Gonzalez, Norberto Gonzales and Ronaldo Puno and know that Iraq War amputees have longer reaches.

It’s all very well for people to not take extraconstitutional or extralegal ways to right wrongs and redress grievances. But what if the constitutional/legal processes are blocked at every turn? What if the constitutional/legal processes have all but disappeared?

The second objection, which is why try to oust a President whose departure isn’t very far off, presumes she is going to depart then. That is a monumental presumption, which isn’t borne out by the resoluteness with which constitutional and legal processes are currently being savaged. Why should a President whose term never began be unduly bothered by when it would end?

The foreign news that keeps flashing in London over the last few days is about Pervez Musharraf enjoying a fresh lease on life by declaring martial law, legitimizing his much-questioned victory in recent polls, and emerging a civilian leader in lieu of a military one from the ashes. How long he will continue to rule is anybody’s guess.

When Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo remains head of the Philippine government after May 2010, either as prime minister or as president courtesy of an amended Constitution, Filipinos will have every chance to look regretfully back at Nov. 29 2007. And wonder why, when they had a chance to change their stars, they thought it was the silliest thing to do.