“One thing is clear: when it comes to notarization in the Philippines, the line between law and magic has never been blurrier”
IN THE latest episode of “As the Gavel Turns,” we’ve got ourselves a real courtroom thriller starring a lawyer, a fugitive mayor, and a notarization that could make David Copperfield jealous.
Elmer Galicia, the intrepid attorney who swears he met the elusive and dismissed Bamban Mayor Alice Guo in the flesh on Aug. 14, is now claiming he notarized her counter-affidavit.
This, of course, would be nothing short of miraculous – since Guo reportedly pulled a Houdini and vanished from the Philippines nearly a month earlier.
Move over, Criss Angel, there’s a new illusionist in town!
Now, let’s give Mr. Galicia his due. He did everything by the book – if by the book, you mean a choose-your-own-adventure novel where you pick the ending that best suits your client.
According to Galicia, Guo casually drove up to his office in San Jose Del Monte, Bulacan, in a Toyota Land Cruiser – because who wouldn’t want to take a leisurely road trip while being hunted by authorities?
They allegedly had a chat, she flashed her driver’s license (because a simple ID works wonders when dodging an international manhunt), and, voilà, her counter-affidavit was notarized, sealed, and ready for delivery to the Department of Justice.
But let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.
Let’s consider the other side of this legal magical realism.
Maybe Galicia really did meet Guo on that fateful day. Perhaps she didn’t escape the country at all but instead has been laying low in some corner of Bulacan – possibly the most obvious hideout since Carmen Sandiego decided to blend in at the Smithsonian.
In defense of Galicia, let’s break down the logic here.
Legally, notarizing a document requires the signatory’s presence.
So, if Guo wasn’t there, Galicia might have committed a slight oopsie known as “falsification of public documents,” a felony under Philippine law that can earn you a free stay at the local penitentiary.
But why would a seasoned lawyer risk it all?
Maybe, just maybe, he was mesmerized by Guo’s charm, or maybe she cast a spell on him – a spell so strong that even the strictest provisions of the Notarial Law were temporarily suspended.
And then, there’s the practicality angle.
Galicia could argue in today’s digital age, where Zoom meetings replace office visits, and holograms perform concerts, notarizing a document in the absence of the signatory is just the next logical step.
After all, if a hologram of Tupac can perform at Coachella, why can’t a fugitive’s affidavit get notarized via telepathy?
On the political front, Galicia’s actions might be framed as a bold move to support the embattled mayor, a champion of something-or-other, who clearly needed all the help she could get – legal or otherwise.
He could argue that by notarizing the affidavit, he was merely upholding the great Filipino tradition of “malasakit,” or compassion, for those in trouble, even if that trouble involves human trafficking charges.
Of course, there’s also the ethical consideration.
Notaries are supposed to serve as impartial witnesses to ensure the integrity of the documents they notarize.
But ethics, like a well-prepared alibi, can be flexible.
Galicia could contend that he was merely following the golden rule of lawyering: “If it’s good for the client, it’s good for everyone.”
However, if the truth catches up to our legal Houdini and it’s proven that Guo wasn’t anywhere near Bulacan – or the country, for that matter – on Aug. 14, Galicia could face a few consequences.
And by “few” we mean potentially getting disbarred, charged with perjury, and facing civil liability.
In the Philippines, the Supreme Court has a particularly low tolerance for notaries who dabble in magic tricks, often opting for the harshest penalties, like turning one’s law degree into a mere wall decoration.
So, how shall our legal magician pull off the grand finale in this theatrical display of legal wizardry?
Simple. Galicia should consider switching careers. There’s always a market for good illusionists – Las Vegas, perhaps?
Or, better yet, he could apply his skills in another area of law where facts and reality have always had a somewhat flexible relationship – political spin-doctoring.
It seems he already has a knack for it.
As we wait for the DOJ’s final verdict, one thing is clear: when it comes to notarization in the Philippines, the line between law and magic has never been blurrier.
For that, we can thank the legal wizardry of Elmer Galicia, whose next trick may very well involve disappearing from the legal profession altogether.
