“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” 

Drug wars do not work. Since US President Richard Nixon declared a “War on Drugs” in 1971, dozens of countries have adopted drug policies focused on prohibition, eradication, and incarceration. Yet, the drug trade is as strong and lucrative as ever.

There has been no significant change in the share of the population with drug use disorders and deaths from drug use disorders have increased since 1990. At the same time, communities, especially the poor and marginalized, bear the grave and disproportionate human costs of unjust imprisonment, police harassment and corruption, crossfire violence, and state investment in militarization instead of development.

However, an often-overlooked result of prohibitionist drug policy that has resulted in hundreds of thousands dead and existential threats to various states, is the creation and expansion of organized crime groups.

In Latin America in particular, mass incarceration related to the drug war has made prisons incubators for organized crime, while the illicit markets created by prohibitionist drug policy regimes ensure that these criminal organizations grow to be rich, powerful, and violent.

The Philippines must re-examine its own policies towards drugs and incarceration based on the decades of mistakes made in other countries before it creates its own homegrown international criminal group that puts the very existence of the state at risk.

American export

For all of the Duterte administration’s talk about protecting Philippine sovereignty and rejecting US imperialism, a prohibitionist approach to drugs and war-like policy for dealing with them is a pure American export.

The United States Federal Bureau of Narcotics was established in 1930 primarily in order to deal with alcohol, which was at the time illegal in the US. When the US ended the prohibition of alcohol in 1933, the Bureau was obsolete. In an effort to save the Bureau (and his job), then Commissioner Harry Anslinger turned his sights on marijuana, stating “There are 100,000 total marijuana smokers in the US, and most are Negroes, Hispanics, Filipinos and entertainers. Their Satanic music, jazz and swing result from marijuana use. This marijuana causes white women to seek sexual relations with Negroes, entertainers and any others.”

In 1971, Nixon (who would later resign to avoid impeachment) declared narcotics “public enemy number one” and declared a “War on Drugs.” American federal and state governments began enacting harsh sentencing laws for drug possession and practicing aggressive policing, resulting in mass incarceration (the male incarceration rate increased by 500% from 1971 to 2016). John Erlichman, Nixon’s Assistant for Domestic Affairs, would later admit that the “war on drugs” was a political strategy, not a policy based on solid evidence aimed at making American safer:

“The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I'm saying? We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”

Nevertheless, in the following decades, exporting the “war on drugs” through both bilateral relations as well as crafting the United Nations’ drug policy, would be a central part of US foreign policy. The US successfully made the prohibitionist and punitive approach to drugs the dominant policy in the world, so much so that many people have even stopped questioning its basis or effectiveness.

Drug traffic increases

Despite a prohibitionist and punitive “war on drugs” being implemented for decades in many countries, including countries that are much richer, and with better trained and equipped and less corrupt police forces than in the Philippines, this approach has not resulted in success anywhere.

Drug traffic has not subsided, but rather increased. From 1971 to 2017, the world’s illicit opium production increased nearly tenfold from 1,200 to 10,500 tons. More cocaine, morphine, and opium are being illicitly created and traded now than in the 1980s. Furthermore, and more tragically, death and violence related to drugs and the drug trade has increased.

People are dying at higher rates from drug use disorders now than a quarter-century ago (despite the rate of people with drug use disorders being relatively constant). The number of people killed in encounters between traffickers and law enforcement – which include the traffickers, law enforcement officials, and innocent third parties wrongfully accused or caught in the crossfire – has not only increased, but can easily be comparable to the number of dead in history’s great wars. Prohibition inflates the price of illicit drugs, making the drug trade that much more profitable. At the same time, illegalizing these markets takes away the state’s ability to regulate them. As a result, rules are often determined by violence.

At the same time, prohibitionist and punitive drug policy regimes have unintended negative consequences including mass incarceration, disenfranchisement, police abuse, police and state corruption, the double victimization of vulnerable communities, the reproduction and exacerbation of social and economic inequalities, and mistrust between law enforcement and the people they are supposed to protect. The most dramatic unintended consequence, however, that not only often results in catastrophic levels of violence but also an existential threat to the state, is the rise of powerful and violent criminal organizations.

Unintended consequence: Organized crime

Mass incarceration is a direct result of drug policy regimes that focus on prohibition and punishment. Mexico’s prison population increased by over 50% between 2000 and 2012, Brazil’s prison population more than doubled between 1995 and 2015, and El Salvador’s prison population grew by 560% between 1992 and 2017. Other countries in the region show a similar pattern. 

The skyrocketing number of inmates coupled with horrible prison conditions make Latin American prisons incubators for crime and recruitment sites for criminal organizations. Unsurprisingly, corrections facilities and systems have not kept up with the growing prison populations.

Overcrowding results in situations that are incredibly unsafe for inmates. They face the constant risk of not only violence from other inmates, but of having no access to food, water, or space to sleep. They are also vulnerable to guard abuse and corruption. As a result, inmates form or join gangs for self-preservation. Brazil’s Comando Vermelho (CV) and Primeiro Comando do Capital (PCC), the latter of which is arguably the largest, best organized, and best-resourced criminal organization in all of South America (it is also an international actor, with cells in at least five other countries) were both born in prisons as ways for the inmates to protect themselves. 

Overcrowding also means that low-level non-violent offenders and even those who are merely waiting for trial get placed in the same facilities as hardened criminals.

El Salvador case

The case of El Salvador is instructive.

A wave of mano dura (hard-handed) policies gave police sweeping powers to arrest anyone they merely suspected of being involved in drugs or gangs. 14,000 young people were arrested in a little over a year (2004-2005), but only a third were ever actually found to be guilty of a crime and eventually released. While in prison, however, many of these youths joined criminal gangs for the reasons outlined above. Essentially, the mano dura arrests needlessly drew thousands of people into membership with organized crime.

Prisons are incredibly poorly staffed. There are not enough guards to control the inmates and many of those guards are poorly trained and paid, making them vulnerable to bribery and corruption. Thus, the norm is that guards do not control prison life but rather leave day to day regulation to criminal organizations themselves.

When there are rival groups in the same prison, guards will often separate the members in order to avoid violence, and leave each organization to control its own ranks. This allows the organizations to solidify their own internal structures, rules, rituals and identity-making.

When it becomes clear that a group of prisoners is becoming so powerful and organized that it might actually be capable of overpowering the guards, the correctional staff may try to decapitate the organization by transferring leaders to other prisons, as the São Paulo State prison system did in the early days of the PCC. This just functioned, however, to spread the PCC to more prisons within the state and encourage the younger members left behind to step up to leadership positions.

Finally, “wars on drugs” have also resulted in the transformation of state agents into criminal organizations.

In their pursuit of prohibition and punishment drug regimes, Latin American states gave sweeping power to “law enforcement agents” – which in several cases included both official police forces and unofficial, state-backed paramilitary and vigilante groups. These groups later evolved to become criminal organizations themselves involved in drug traffic and other criminal markets.

In the 2000s, militias emerged in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil styling themselves as self-organized groups of current and retired police who would protect communities from drugs and crime. The militias soon, however, became acting like the criminals they claimed to be fighting, using violence to not only monopolize drug traffic in areas under their control, but also basic service provision such as access to water and electricity. It is widely known that militias maintain close ties to the government, including to the family of President Bolsonaro, and they also run and win their own elected officials. 

Colombia's paramilitary

In Colombia, the Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia (AUC), was a paramilitary group formed in 1997 that enjoyed the collaboration and support of some politicians and the Colombian military – so much so that it is colloquially referred to as the sixth division of the Colombian armed forces.

While the AUC’s primary purpose was supposedly to fight left-wing guerrilla groups who engaged in drug traffic, it also engaged in protecting drug trafficking, extractive industries, and right-wing politicians. The AUC created cells within prisons in order to profit from drug traffic and other criminal economic activities.

By the 2000s, the AUC was out of control, wreaking violent havoc on large swaths of the country. The government entered into negotiations to demobilize the AUC in 2004. Instead of totally demobilizing, however, AUC members and successors formed looser, decentralized associations called BACRIMs, a play on “criminal bands”. BACRIMs still control some of the most sophisticated, powerful, and violent prison structures and use them to recruit and train even small-time and common criminals for their organizations. 

Lessons for the Philippines 

What do Latin American prisons have to do with the Philippines? We see many of the factors that made Latin American prisons recruitment and training centers for organized crime present in the Philippines.

Philippine jails are incredibly overcrowded and conditions are deplorable. The prison population grew by 48% between 2015 and 2018. In Manila City jail, over 500 people sleep in a space meant to hold 170. Quezon City Jail holds five times more inmates than it was designed for. In New Bilibid Prison, more than 5,000 inmates die every year from overcrowding, disease, and violence. Petty criminals and those awaiting trial (in Manila City Jail, 90% of inmates have not been convicted of any crime) are mixed with hard criminals.

Corruption is rampant. As is the nature of corruption, it scandalously benefits the rich and powerful (remember Herbert Colanggo’s music video shot inside his quarters in Bilibid and Antonio Sanchez ability to come and go out of prison as he pleased), while victimizing the poor and powerless.

Manila residents whose relatives were arrested as part of Duterte’s war told me that police often asked families for money in order for their relatives to have a space to sleep. Officers would also not allow relatives to bring home-prepared food, water, or coffee to give to their relatives. Any such provisions would have to be purchased at an overpriced concession stand run by police officers’ relatives.

Gangs are the primary order-keepers in Philippine prisons. The gangs not only protect members from violence perpetrated by other inmates and guards, but pool resources to provide members with food, medicine, and clothing. These resources come from family members, but also from continued drug trafficking and, famously, production inside prisons.

In Latin America, communities often turn to criminal organizations for security when they perceive the police to be unable or unwilling to protect them. Duterte's policy of instructing the police to obtusely conduct wanton arrests and killings in poor neighborhoods without any reasonable intelligence or due process has eroded at the already fragile trust between communities and the police.

A 2017 SWS survey revealed that about half of Filipinos believed many of the people killed were not drug dealers and had not resisted arrest. At the community level, stories of rape for freedom, demanding payment to not be included on a drug list, and connivance between police and funeral parlors that jack up their prices abound. The situation is ripe for communities to increasingly turn to criminal organizations for protection against police abuses.

No to 'moralistic' or 'ideological' policy

So what should be done to address the problems associated with illegal drugs and avoid enabling the creation of a powerful international organized criminal syndicate? The answers are not easy.

For starters, the Philippines would do well to pursue a drug policy that is based on evidence and the positive as well as negative experiences of other countries – not moralistic or ideological positions that simplify drug policy and organized crime dynamics into an action movie where the hero just kills all the “bad guys” and every one lives happily ever after. It should begin designing this policy by frankly asking, “what are the goals of our drug policy?”

Do we just want to catch and jail or kill as many suspected drug users (as distinct from drug addicts or traffickers – because they are different) as possible? Do we want to reduce the volume of illegal drugs circulating in the country (a number the PNP does not even keep track of)? Or, do we want to reduce crimes against people and property associated with drug traffic? Do we want to reduce violence, especially mortalities, associated with drug traffic, including violence against police, suspects, and the community that happens to get caught in the cross-fire? Do we want to protect our children from becoming non-functioning drug addicts or foot soldiers of a criminal organization? These are very different goals that require different policy interventions. 

So far, it seems that the Duterte government has been obtusely focused on jailing or killing as many people as possible (collateral damage and all) without asking itself what are the real harms it is trying to protect society from.

Vice President Leni Robredo, on the other hand, has made it clear that her priority is preventing the killing of innocent people, and she has demonstrated an openness to learning based on evidence and international experience. Hopefully it is not too late to change the course of drug policy and avoid an even more violent, dystopian future. – Rappler.com

Cecilia Lero has been an activist and community organizer in the Philippines for approximately a decade. She holds a Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of Notre Dame and is currently a postdoctoral fellow at the Centro de Estudos da Metrópole at the Universidade de São Paulo and the Centro Brasileiro de Análise e Planejamento in São Paulo, Brazil, where her work focuses on political violence, organized crime, and democratization.

This week the Duterte administration’s overly ambitious Build, Build, Build (BBB) infrastructure program came under heavy fire. And for good reason.

With only 9 of the 75 flagship projects underway, Senator Franklin Drilon called the program a “dismal failure” in a recent hearing.

“We only have two years and a half left in this administration, I don’t think any substantial progress insofar as that program is concerned will be achieved,” said Drilon.

In return, Palace Spokesperson Salvador Panelo said the criticism is “baseless,” adding the patently false claim that “not a single infrastructure” project was built in the previous administration.

This was followed by a press conference by Bases Conversion and Development Authority (BCDA) chief Vince Dizon, who defended BBB using plenty of misleading claims about economic growth under the Duterte administration.

I already discussed before the disappointingly slow pace of BBB (READ: The pipe dream that is Build, Build, Build).

But now the economic managers are also moving BBB’s goalposts in the middle of the game. The Filipino people must cry foul.

Dubious 'facts'

But before anything else, let’s debunk a number of macroeconomic “facts” touted by Dizon in a recent press conference.

First, he said the economy’s growth – as measured by gross domestic product or GDP – is projected to fall between 7-7.5% (or possibly 8%) by the time Duterte steps down in 2022.

Dizon said this projection comes not just from government but also from multilateral agencies like the World Bank (WB) and Asian Development Bank (ADB).

This is far too rosy. 

Figure 1 shows that while growth fell within target last quarter at 6.2%, we’re far from reaching 7-7.5% soon. In fact, we breached 7% growth in just two of the 13 quarters since Duterte took office.

The WB and ADB’s Philippine growth forecasts also only go as far as 2021, and both agencies currently project that growth by then will be at 6.2% (not between 7-7.5% as Dizon claimed).

Figure 1.

Second, Dizon boasted that our economy has been growing, thanks largely to government spending.

But as I discussed in my previous piece, last quarter, less than a fifth of growth came from government spending. Instead, more than half of growth actually came from the spending of private households and individuals. (READ: Is the Philippine economy in the pink again? Not exactly)

Dizon also bragged about the respectable growth of the construction sector – particularly public construction – last quarter.

But if you crunch the data, you’ll see that contrary to his claim, much of construction growth was led by the private sector, not government (Figure 2).

Third, Dizon claimed that the share of public infrastructure spending in GDP went up to 6% in the past two years. But this hides the fact that such share recently went down from 6.3% to 5.5%.

Figure 2.

Revised, bloated list  

Apart from spewing misleading economic claims, Duterte’s economic managers have also revised the list of BBB’s flagship projects to be completed – or at least jumpstarted – by 2022.

It finally dawned on Duterte’s economic team that they have been overly optimistic about BBB’s prospects. They promised us a “golden age of infrastructure.” Instead we got a dud.

It was Socioeconomic Planning Secretary Ernest Pernia who first admitted to Rappler they’re drawing up a revised list of flagship projects under BBB to exclude wholly unfeasible projects – leaving them up to succeeding administrations – and to instead include smaller, more doable projects.

They are also now allowing more projects to be public-private partnerships (PPPs), something they had shunned before because projects funded by foreign loans and grants (also called official development or ODA) were supposedly faster.

But how wrong they were. Last year Secretary Pernia was already quoted as saying that under this new ODA-reliant regime, “We thought that things would move fast, but they are not moving as fast as we expected.”

Although this rare display of humility is very much welcome, the revised list of BBB projects is arguably bloated in a couple of ways.

1) Unfeasible projects

First, the economic team conveniently removed projects that turned out to be practically impossible to do. These include inter-island “link bridges” – say, between Bohol and Leyte and Cebu and Negros – that will have to be built across very deep waters using exceedingly complex engineering.

If these projects are so unfeasible, why include them in the first place?

2) Carryovers

Second, a number of projects added to the new list are, in fact, carryovers from previous administrations.

These include the LRT-1 Cavite Extension, the MRT-7 (found along Commonwealth Avenue), and the NLEX-SLEX Connector Road. These and others just happened to be inaugurated or completed during the Duterte administration.

How convenient for the Duterte team to fold all these into BBB.

3) Hodgepodge of projects

Third, almost all projects under BBB were about roads, expressways, bridges, airports, seaports; in other words, transportation and logistics infrastructure.

Now, bafflingly, BBB includes a hodgepodge of projects that are glaringly not about transportation and logistics.

These include the Philippine Identification System (more commonly known as the National ID System) and the Safe Philippines Project Phase 1 (a project with the Chinese government to set up CCTVs throughout Metro Manila and Davao City).

Heck, they also added at least one project to be built by the private sector: the Wawa Bulk Water Supply Project.

Is this their way of lengthening the project list?

4) Broken window fallacy

Fourth and last, the revised list includes projects related to the reconstruction of Marawi City, which was left in shambles by a protracted urban battle against militants affiliated with ISIS.

Attaching the reconstruction efforts to BBB leads us straight to the so-called “broken window fallacy.”

Simply put, the fallacy tells us we should not be so happy that post-war reconstruction boosts the economy and creates jobs. If there were no war to begin with, the same resources could have been spent on new things rather than just rebuilding old things.

Don’t misunderstand me: Marawi City needs to be rebuilt fast, and government must pour in money to help the Maranao recover as soon as possible.

But we should beware of the broken window fallacy. Otherwise, the Duterte government might grow used to the false idea that destruction is a path to growth.

Moving goalposts

More than halfway through Duterte’s term, the economic managers have nothing much to show where BBB is concerned. Rather than try to meet their original goals, they just decided to come up with a revised list.

Moving the goalposts in this manner is ill-advised. Not only does it render BBB practically impossible to evaluate – as originally laid down – but it also serves as a convenient excuse for the economic managers’ sloppy conception and implementation of the program.

This behavior – which really comes down to cheating – is actually unsurprising.

In the wake of similarly disappointing economic growth figures, the economic managers quietly shifted their GDP growth targets as if nobody would care. Funnily enough, they still couldn’t meet their own discounted targets, as shown in Figure 1.

Will the same fate befall BBB? – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Follow JC on Twitter (@jcpunongbayan) and Usapang Econ (usapangecon.com).

On November 10, Jorge Mojarro, a professor of literature at the University of Santo Tomas, wrote an opinion piece on Rappler about the movie Elcano & Magellan: The First Voyage Around the World.

He stated the following points: 

1. “The plan was not to circumnavigate the planet.” 
2. The seamen who took part in the expedition were not mandated to conquer any land.
3. Lapu-Lapu “was not fighting for the Philippines because, in the first place, Filipino people, as we understand it today, did not exist.” 

While these 3 points seem reasonable, they seem to skirt around the main point of contention about movies like Elcano & Magellan: that colonialism is evil through and through, and there should be no celebration of it, not even a brief moment, and never in the guise of “Let’s all celebrate the spoils of war, we’re friends now!” 

There is no “us” or “we” in the context of colonialism and our proximity to the colonizer, and its accompanying gaze and discourse. There is only the colonized Self, and the Other – the colonizer itself (I refuse to humanize colonizers), whose intentions are always clear, and are never clouded by rhetoric or even the promise of salvation in the afterlife.

The formation of the Philippines as a nation was not an accident. Pardon the vernacular, but malinaw na kagaguhan 'yan (that's clearly bullshit), and is a blatant bastardizing of history and the countless plights of the colonized.

The colonized is us, of course. Filipinos. Not the Spanish, not the Portuguese, not the Japanese, not the Americans. Us. And yes, we shall consider Lapu-Lapu and Humabon to be Filipinos, too. The very definition of what a Filipino is was constructed by the colonial powers themselves. Did they explicitly say that Lapu-Lapu and his descendants, or his neighbors, or those within physical proximity to his home were not Filipino? I think not. (READ: The problem with the lack of nationalism)

To accept any form of bastardization of our colonial history, even if it is just a misshapen image on a poster or a 30-second space in an animated film – and by the colonized, no less – legitimizes all previous and continuing colonial and neocolonial violence. Such acceptance also supports the erasure of histories, and we already know how much this country needs to understand its own histories. (READ: Racism in the Philippines: Does it matter?)

Going back to my previous point, European imperialism cannot possibly be an accident in any way, because even before the colonial powers began sniffing out land to control and pillage – or in the colonial parlance, “spices to trade” and other such niceties – the concept of natural law already existed, and this profoundly affected how Europeans in general viewed the rest of the world.

Ironically, even the Europeans didn’t have a concept of sovereignty before it was legally codified, which makes them twice as nasty as colonizers – because prior to the Spanish imperial project, there were already working economies and political systems dotting the archipelago.

Explicating Francisco de Vitoria’s "On the Indians Lately Discovered," which is considered one of the earliest texts on international law, Antony Anghie states: "As a consequence, Vitoria suggests that proper government must be established over the Indians by the Spanish, who, he argues, must govern as trustees over the uncivilized Indians. The Indians are now children in need of a guardian. There is a gap, then, between the ontologically ‘universal’ Indian and the historically, socially 'particular' Indian that can only be remedied, it transpires, by the intervention of the Spanish."

It is evident that imperialism was never a swashbuckling, leave-it-to-Batman kind of endeavor, where the fortunes of the empire were relegated to unskilled navigators or dreamers. It is 3 things: 

1. A conscious imagining of the “savage world” with the intent to take control; 
2. A waking decision to turn against peoples found in distant lands to take their land and resources; and most importantly, 
3. An ideology to stand behind, at the cost of resources and military power across the waters, for the profit of the empire. 

To be flippantly dismissive and say, “It’s just a movie,” misses the point of having a critical and vigilant lens. It is this exact dismissive mindset that has caused irreparable damage to how Filipinos in general understand and partake of realpolitik. (READ: The problem with PH history education)

We must never, even for a second, relinquish our hold on the truth, even hundreds of years after the deed was done: that we were violently colonized, and the fractured nationhood that we now have is the direct consequence of colonialism, several times over. We owe no kindness or friendship to colonizers, colonialists, and complicit (neo)colonials who continue to feed off the system with nary a backward glance. (READ: [OPINION] How the Philippines can repair its culture)

For our sake, we owe our friendship only to those who at least attempt to understand the critical positions of those who think that Disney-fying the European colonial project is at the very least a bad joke, and at worst, a nod that legitimizes modern day colonialism of the world powers. – Rappler.com

Marius Carlos Jr is an author, editor, and senior journalist at BreakingAsia.com. He pens fiction and essays, and is also the co-founder of the literary arts group KADLiT. 

The following speech was delivered by Dinagat Islands Governor Kaka Bag-ao for the 2019 Freedom Flame Awards on Thursday, November 14, at Whitespace Manila, Makati City.

I am Kaka Bag-ao and I come from Dinagat Islands, a small province in the Caraga Region in Mindanao. Our seas and mountains are beautiful and rich in resources, but our families are shackled by poverty, inequality, and underdevelopment. In nearly a decade and a half after being established as one of the newest provinces, Dinagat is currently the ninth poorest in the whole country. And based on our experience, I would like to begin by telling you not what freedom is, but what it is not.

For us in Dinagat, the opposite of freedom is poverty. I experienced this firsthand as I grew up in the small northern town of Loreto. When I was little, I gathered wood to use in cooking our meals as my mother harvested the vegetables that she planted. That was our everyday life during my childhood. That was also the everyday life of our neighbors. That was the only life we all knew because of the isolation not only of our island province, but of our town itself. Back then, I had no idea what the other municipalities of our province looked like since we weren’t connected by concrete roads. I had no idea about the difference of being poor and rich. All I saw was our reality, and that we were content with the way we lived even if we experienced hard times.

However, later on, I was fortunate enough to be given the opportunity to travel to Manila so I can go to high school, college, and then law school through the help of scholarships. I was given the opportunity to learn, which allowed me to gain the opportunity to become a lawyer. And when I became a lawyer, I was presented with the opportunity to serve marginalized sectors, which then led me towards the opportunity to run for office, first as Congresswoman of Akbayan Party-List, and then as Representative of the Lone District of Dinagat from the Liberal Party. Door after door after door was opened right in front of me. 

A lack of opportunities

Many people escape the shackles of poverty because of one thing: opportunity. This may be true for many people, but "many" is not "all" – opportunity doesn’t always come especially to those who need it the most. For the people of my province, opportunity is rare and often reserved for those who wield power and those who serve them. This is true for the mother I accompanied in a boat as we rushed across the Surigao Strait to go to the Caraga Regional Hospital on the mainland. She gave birth prematurely while we were on board, and I held the dead infant before we reached the port. This is also true for a family I met in one of our far-flung sitios – their dinner consisted of water boiled in a pot with a stone from the sea so that it would almost taste like soup. 

We always hear that opportunity is a door that you need to hold open so that others can also pass through. However, some doors do not open for most Dinagatnons and most Filipinos. And some that do open are often slammed shut for those left behind. In the beginning, I believed that our role as progressives in power is to open doors and enable opportunities for our people. But as I continued my journey in Dinagat, I realized that in order to be truly successful in upholding the liberal values of freedom, social justice, and solidarity, our responsibility is not just to open doors, but to break them down – along with the walls and ceilings.

Don’t get me wrong, I am truly grateful for the opportunities that came my way. However, at end of the day, opportunities that are not experienced by all is a sign of inequality in society – and this inequality is both the cause and effect of poverty. Doors that open for some means that there will be people who will still be left behind. Inequality, along with poverty, is another opposite of genuine freedom.

Some want to open doors for economic growth and progress, but those doors are left shut for our farmers and fisherfolk – the backbone of our local economy. Some want to open doors for the equal protection of lesbians and gay people, but those doors are left shut for transgender women and men. Some want to open doors to help the poor, but those doors are left shut for those who don’t reside in vote-rich provinces in far-flung areas. The list goes on and on.

When we continue focusing on opening doors, we often forget that there are walls and ceilings, and that doors aren’t figuratively large enough for people to come through more than one at a time.

The importance of inclusivity

One of the best ways to break down those doors along with the walls and ceilings is by including the people in our development agenda, as what we have seen in Naga City – through the efforts of the late mayor and DILG secretary Jesse Robredo and Vice President Leni Gerona Robredo. People’s participation will always be the cornerstone of a democracy that works for the people. 

This is what we are also doing in Dinagat Islands since the day we set foot in the capitol. Part of our fundamentals of leadership include the following: (1) participatory governance rooted in the principles of popular inclusion, empowerment, and democratic processes; (2) equity and development for the people with preferential option for the poor and vulnerable; and (3) human rights and dignity as the basis for development. 

And because we are inspired by the Robredo brand of leadership and service, we are planning to send our local legislators and other provincial officials to Naga so we can study how their People’s Council policy can be applied in the whole of our province and in all levels of our government.

Doors, walls, and ceilings are those that prevent our people from being heard. These obstacles are broken down when we have leaders who are willing to listen and provide venues for the people not only to speak, but to act. 

A great initiative that is one of a kind in the Philippine political arena is Project Makinig, developed by the Liberal Party and spearheaded by no less than our Party President, Senator Kiko Pangilinan. It is a technology-driven listening campaign that enlists volunteers to hear the stories, experiences, problems, and aspirations of the people at the grassroots level. Project Makinig is a way for our party to say that we do not have the monopoly of solutions and that those who are most affected by social issues are the ones who have the best ideas when it comes to developing policy responses.

Listening will always be the first step. It renders doors, walls, and ceilings intangible. For us to completely break them down, we need to ensure that the people are given the space to participate. When we fail to do so, as what happened in the past, the doors, walls, and ceilings become stronger, and when they become stronger while the people grow more and more hopeless, traditional political dynasties become more and more powerful and dictators emerge, spewing promises of doors broken by their iron fists.

Now, more than ever, it is imperative that we tear down the doors of selective opportunity, the walls that divide the rich and poor, and the ceilings of seemingly unreachable aspirations because these contain and prevent hope from being felt by the marginalized.

This is what we try to do in Dinagat. We seek to create programs where the people themselves will be key players and empowered stakeholders, not just beneficiaries. We show them that leaders are one with them – we talk to them face-to-face, we sit where they sit, sleep where they sleep, we listen and seek their commitment to lead with us. Most of all, we always remind them that the impossible can be made possible. 

Democracy at work

We displayed this for the first time when I ran and won against a member of the most powerful political clan of the province – and we did this 3 times. This prompted citizens to believe in themselves; some of them ran in the recent barangay elections and defeated members of the same dynasty. Little by little, we are creating spaces for ordinary people to do extraordinary things. 

I was dubbed as the Dragon Slayer by local media for my consecutive electoral victories against members of a well-entrenched dynasty, but for us in Dinagat, for the citizens of our province, we are one in the understanding that the dragons are not the politicians – the dragons are poverty, inequality, and underdevelopment. And in our context now, at the national level, these 3 are the doors, walls, and ceilings that prevent our people from enjoying and experiencing genuine freedom. 

Let me now take this time to express gratitude to the Friedrich Naumann Foundation (FNF) for their active presence in our country since our democracy was restored after the dark days of Martial Law. Through the FNF, we have built a solid global network that allowed our liberal leaders to become better equipped in the battles we are facing and the battles that are yet to come. Democracy may have been restored, but there are elements that still seek to undermine and weaken it in order to acquire, maintain, and abuse power. With the help of the FNF, we are able to strengthen our ranks as freedom fighters who are ready, willing, and able to soldier on against the enemies of democracy.

When I received the Freedom Flame Award in 2015, I said that “[t]he fundamental strength for pushing a liberal agenda is to have an active citizenry. Being the change themselves, becoming leaders in their community and not waiting for government to do the work for them are keys to sustaining reforms.” Now, more than ever, I stand by those words as we chart a better and brighter future for Dinagat Islands, which can hopefully become a good example for the rest of the country.

Right now, we may be few and still battle weary since the previous elections, but when did that stop us from pushing forward? Back when I was congresswoman, I remember the times when Cong Kit and I were the only ones who would always stand together to vote against repressive measures and bogus impeachment complaints in the House committee on justice hearing, as the only Liberal Party members of the panel. We were only two who stood against 20 or 30. Talo man sa boto, pero panalo sa prinsipyo (We may lose the vote, but we win with our principles). We count our losses as a victory of principle, which will hopefully inspire others to press on.

Like Ka Bobby, let us tear down the walls of oppression by being active citizens. Like John Nery, let us use the truth to break the windows rendered opaque by disinformation. Like the Philippine Competition Commission, let us ensure that opportunities become available to all without being monopolized by the already wealthy few. And like Philippine Educational Theater Association, let us educate our people through the most creative means in order for them to shake the foundations of traditional politics. 

Congratulations to all the awardees. Thank you to the Friedrich Naumann Foundation. After tonight, let us continue breaking apart the doors and walls and ceilings that prevent all our people, especially the marginalized, from being truly free.

Mabuhay kayong lahat! Mabuhay ang Inang Bayan! Itaguyod natin ang tunay na kalayaan! Magandang gabi at maraming salamat (Long live all of you! Long live the Mother Land! Let us uphold freedom! Good evening and thank you very much)! – Rappler.com 

When instant gratification is in vogue, when everything must be fast and occurring “at the moment,” calling for a slowdown is antithetic. It sounds counterintuitive because we live in a world that does not reward the slow. We rush to where we need to go, lest we tardy in fulfilling our social roles, lest we fail to “arrive” as planned. 

The city is frantic. It caters to the rat race. The need to move around quickly and bounce from one appointment to another is a constant alarming presence; it is the city’s frenzied heartbeat. As it is now, urban life is governed by both the pressure to meet material needs and the constraints arising from stiff competition for resources and space. 

By design (or lack thereof), our cities endorse fast-paced lifestyles and public behavior, with their wide roads for car traffic, but little to no provision for pedestrian and non-motorized transportation.

Take EDSA as an example. The metropolis’ major thoroughfare consists of 12 lanes, 6 per direction. Half the lanes are designated for buses, half for private cars. There is no protected bike lane. Spaces for pedestrian traffic are few and underdeveloped. Bicycle riders brave enough to risk the carriageway can only hope that sharing the road with larger vehicles does not lead to tragic or grisly final destinations. 

Urban transportation as a health issue 

Fast-paced city life is taking a huge toll on the people’s health and well-being. According to the 2018 Global Status Report on Road Safety by the World Health Organization (WHO), deaths due to road accidents continue to increase in the Philippines, estimating some 12,690 deaths in 2016, compared to 10,012 fatalities in 2015. The report also claims that road traffic injuries are now “the leading killer of children and young people aged 5-29 years around the world.” 

The WHO report said that for developing countries like the Philippines, the most vulnerable road users – motorcyclists, pedestrians, and cyclists – account for half of road-related deaths.

Commuting around the busy city is also a growing cause of mental health disorders. A study published in the Scientific American (2005) identifies city commuting as a principal cause of stress. “Each added travel minute correlates with an increase in health problems. Physical symptoms range from headaches and backaches to digestive problems and high blood pressure. Mental ills include sleep disturbances, fatigue and concentration problems. Commuters have it especially hard – bad weather, traffic jams and accidents all cause stress,” the study said. 

A 2012 article in Psychology Today also cited studies showing that fast-paced city living is associated with “increased rates of depression, anxiety, and psychosis.” 

While there are no studies yet in the Philippines with regard to the correlation of fast-paced urban living and poor mental health, experience abroad can be indicative of the potential – and possibly unreported – cases of mental health issues due to city transportation. As the number of city dwellers grow, it is now more imperative to delve deeper into the issues of urbanization and mental health. 

Finally, there is air pollution. Another WHO study in 2018 ranked the Philippines third in the world with the highest number of pollution-related deaths, at 45.3 deaths per 100,000 persons. China ranked first at 81.5, while Mongolia was second at 48.8. Just recently, health experts from the University of the Philippines discovered a high concentration of black carbon and heavy metals among blood samples of Metropolitan Manila Development Authority traffic enforcers assigned along EDSA. 

Building a 'slowdown' movement 

The pace of the city is a manifestation of its capitalist underpinnings; cities are spaces for economic exchange. Cities, however, are also spaces for exchange of culture and knowledge. But imagine the chaos, hostility, and isolation that the city can breed, instead of encouraging full community living or creating positive impact on people’s lives. 

Take EDSA again, as an example. While EDSA caters mostly to motor-driven vehicles, it continues to be a mixed-use thoroughfare used by both pedestrians and drivers alike. It should be redesigned by widening the existing sidewalks to occupy one full lane, and then introduce calming devices, vegetation, and pedestrian-friendly infrastructure.

Another full lane should be devoted to a two-way protected bicycle lane. The remaining 4 lanes are to be divided among buses and cars. These changes introduce a set of values more sustainable for the city. 

A city seemingly on the road to a slowdown is the City of Manila, as it rehabilitates its heritage spaces. Mayor Isko Moreno recently opened a spruced-up Mehan Garden, with plans to further expand green spaces around the capital. There are also ongoing efforts to revitalize the Intramuros-Binondo circuit. Even now, the newly restored Jones Bridge has already attracted new pedestrian movements, “slowing down” traffic around that area. 

From November 7 to 9, when environmental planners nationwide gathered to celebrate the 50th Anniversary and 28th National Convention of the Philippine Institute for Environmental Planners (PIEP), they tackled topics like climate change management, smart city solutions, and heritage management, among others. Perhaps it is time to also highlight alternative perspectives in urban development, which feature concepts like “de-growth” and “slowdown.” 

The nation needs strategic pauses. Slowed-down city living should not be available only to the few and affluent who stay in cloistered and gated subdivisions. All Filipinos deserve cities which allow us to breathe easier and live better. – Rappler.com

Jayson Edward San Juan is a licensed urban planner and an advocate of people-centered urban design, with a focus on inclusive mobility and the role of institutions in transportation. He took his MA in Urban and Regional Planning in the University of the Philippines.

Any opinion stated in this piece is his, and does not necessarily reflect the position of the organizations to which he is affiliated.

Kairos is an ancient Greek word that best translates as “an opportune time” or better still perhaps, “a moment of grace.” VP Leni’s recent acceptance to take on the task of co-heading the country’s controverted “war on drugs” can perhaps best be seen in this game-changing context: an opportune time.

It likewise is a moment of grace for us to take a second look or for our leadership to be given another chance to take stock of what has happened in a drug-fixated crusade that has consumed countless victims. 

Ma Leonor Gerona’s improbable journey

Maria Leonor Gerona studied at the Diliman campus of the University of the Philippines in the early '80s. She was in her late teens then and had chosen as an elective a political science course I had taught at the university at the height of Martial Law. She always struck me as a thoughtful and reflective person, quiet – at least during class time.

But the real education of Leni took place on the streets and later the barrios she visited in Bicol where she was guided by her late husband Jesse.  It was his example of listening first to people on the ground that jump-started her journey towards a brave brand of servant leadership that she later demonstrated after Jesse’s death. Her improbable run to the vice presidency against all odds was a testament to her tenacity. 

It is no surprise then that this woman’s resolve is made of steel; that her mother’s instinct has always been to protect those entrusted to her care; that her approach has always been inclusive and collaborative, far-reaching. 

VP Leni’s kairos is this moment of grace: to tackle a “war without end” that has become synonymous as she put it to a “war on the poor” – against those on the fringes of society.

Which brings me to another memory that begs to be shared.

Lessons from 'Macondo'

Gabriel “Gabo” Garcia Marquez sat stoically at a conference at a venue in the heart of Mexico, Distrito Federal in the mid-'70s. It tackled the crimes of the Chilean military junta which consisted of the bloodbath that toppled President Allende in Santiago de Chile. I happened to sit next to the Colombian novelist during the gathering simply because we had a similar surname, and said, “Hola, tocayo.”  At that conference, he pledged not to publish another novel until after the Pinochet dictatorship fell, and he described to me the image of Latin America as “Macondo” – where “reality at times can be stranger than fiction.” 

And, the Colombia that I knew first as a student, later as a researcher for Amnesty International, and in the end as a protagonist in the peace process in the country on behalf of International Alert was precisely that: painted in the hues of Gabo’s Macondo.  It was a country in the throes of “narco-politics” where more than a third of those who sat in Congress did so with funds laundered by the country’s drug lords backed up by the dreaded paramilitares; and, where guerrillas from the Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia were equally charged by not a few as narco-guerrillas.  

In his 2016 Nobel Peace Prize address, former Colombian president Juan Manuel Santos stated: “The manner in which the war against drugs is being waged is equally or perhaps even more harmful than all the wars the world is fighting today….”  He believed that his country had paid the highest cost in deaths and sacrifices and it was time to rethink the so-called war on drugs.   

Another Colombian president, Cesar Gaviria, echoed the warning to our own head of State soon after he had assumed office.  In a New York Times op-ed critique of the failed war on drugs that obsessed his country, Gaviria concluded, “The cure has been worse than the disease.” 

Nunca mas!

There is another phrase from my Latin American experience that haunts me: Nunca Mas!  Never Again!  It was uttered by the Argentinian writer Ernesto Sabato who led the inquiry of the desaparecidos  (the disappeared) during the dark decades of military juntas. It reverberates today, because what the kairos moment requires not only of VP Leni but of all of us of good faith is this: Rethink! Refocus! Renew!  Never Again! – Rappler.com

Ed Garcia is one of the framers of the 1987 Constitution.

Trust and confidence in the Philippine National Police (PNP) appear to have hit a new low when the recently concluded investigation of the Senate blue ribbon committee revealed that prohibited drugs recovered in a buy-bust operation in Pampanga were underreported and recycled by “ninja cops.”

These same cops were later rewarded and even promoted to juicy positions. Worse, no less than the chief of the PNP had protected these cops from dismissal under the bata-bata (patronage) system. And as admitted by the police themselves, there have been more than 5,000 deaths in the course of police operations in the drug war.    

In the face of this situation, it is timely to ask: Who will police the police?

It is little known that Republic Act No. 6975, the same law that established the PNP, also provided for putting up the People’s Law Enforcement Board or PLEB in every town, city, and legislative district. The PLEB has the power to receive, investigate, and resolve cases, and impose penalties of reprimand, suspension, demotion, and dismissal from service on erring policemen. 

There is no active duty policeman or military element in the PLEB which helps generate trust and confidence in its proceedings. It is a collegiate body of 5 persons from the local community: a local councilor, a barangay captain, and 3 citizens of the community – one of whom must be a woman, and one a lawyer, a college graduate, or a principal. It shall be the central receiving entity for any citizen’s complaint against officers and members of the PNP.

While there are other administrative disciplinary authorities over the police, including city or municipal mayors, chiefs of police or equivalent supervisors, provincial directors or equivalent supervisors, regional directors or equivalent supervisors, and chief of the PNP and the Napolcom, the PLEB has the most number offices within reach of the people, thus reducing the time, effort, and expenses of complainants and their witnesses.  

The ratio of at least 1 PLEB for every 500 city or municipal police personnel helps assure that the PLEB will be more responsive and effective in its duty as grievance machinery. 

The PLEB can ask any authorized supervisor for the preventive suspension of the respondent who refuses to heed the PLEB summons or subpoena, who has been charged with offenses involving bodily harm or grave threats, who is in a position to tamper with the evidence, and who can unduly influence the witnesses. The proceedings before the PLEB can be faster to finish because these are summary in nature, much like those in preliminary investigations of cases in the prosecutor’s office. (READ: The Philippines, a killing field)

The decisions of the PLEB are final and executory, with right to appeal limited to decisions involving demotion or dismissal from service. 

Yet as of today, the PLEB has not really been given the chance to fulfil its mandate as the administrative disciplinary machinery of the PNP. There are LGUs where the PLEBs are not properly organized and lack offices, personnel, and cooperation and coordination with the PNP. The public is not even aware of its existence or the importance of the role it plays in demanding accountability from the police. (READ: What's wrong with Philippine cops?)  

What can be done to remedy the situation? The Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) must direct the mayors and the city or municipal council to operationalize the PLEBs by appointing the members, providing offices and staff, and providing the budget of the PLEBs in their areas.

We should have a nationwide information campaign for the public to know about the PLEB and encourage them to use it. As a corollary, we should adopt support mechanisms to provide moral and other support to citizens in the community who may file complaints before the PLEB. The PNP should be directed to extend full support and cooperation to the PLEB, its processes, and its decisions.

The PLEB needs strong political will if it hopes to succeed as a local community check-and-balance mechanism for the police. It gives hope that justice may be given to the victims of abuses. The PNP will also benefit from the PLEB as it will help restore discipline among its ranks and shore up credibility and trust in our law enforcement operations. (READ: How the PNP's one-time, big-time operations work)

The appointment of Vice President Leni Robredo as co-chair of the Inter-Agency Committee on Illegal Drugs (ICAD) may hopefully provide new focus on the PLEB. The PLEB can best be appreciated as part of the government's commitment to the rule of law and the doctrine of accountability. Thus, its full activation can help blunt criticism that the government cultivates a culture of impunity among law enforcers. – Rappler.com

Atty. Ronaldo T. Reyes is a member of the Brotherhood of Christian Businessmen and Professionals (BCBP) and Founding President of the People’s Law Enforcement Board Association (PLEBA).

Disney recently began to put disclaimers on its classic animated movies, admitting that they contained racist depictions and offensive stereotypes. 

It made me think of the recent controversy surrounding the Spanish animated film celebrating the "first" circumnavigation of the world, Elcano and Magellan.

Some people have called for the suppression of the film. Others, especially some Spanish writers along with some Filipinos thought that the film was harmless. Filipino nationalist outrage was misplaced. (I agree with this, since there was no "Philippines" as such in 1521, and Lapulapu was less a patriot than a datu at war with a neighboring datu, Humabon, with whom Magellan had allied himself. Lapulapu, who was not even in the actual battle of Mactan, was not fighting a nationalist war, but a local one.)

But apologists for the film have also stressed that it's merely a cartoon, an innocent adventure movie that required the usual stock figures of heroes and villains. One thinks of Rudyard Kipling children’s books like Gunga Din or The Jungle Book: racist, sure, but really just innocent fun. The film depicts Magellan and Elcano as jovial, if competitive types, nice guys bouncing around the world, like tourists. They are not really colonizers, only "spice traders." The native women would naturally be attracted to these amiable, dashing white Europeans and were placed in the film to provide the usual romantic hook.

It's a bit like saying Columbus was not really a colonizer and a slaver and was just doing the Spanish King a favor. This is a surprising misunderstanding of the Spanish imperial project. After all, the years of Magellan's voyage, 1519-1521, coincided with Cortez's war against the Aztecs and consequent colonization of Mexico; that it had been preceded by the Reconquista that brutally expelled Muslims and Jews, by the colonization of the Canary Islands, then Puerto Rico, Cuba, Panama (from where Vasco Nuñez de Balboa first sighted the Pacific Ocean in 1513, not to mention the imperial control of large portions of what today is Western Europe from France, Italy, the Netherlands, etc).

It's important to be clear: Magellan's voyage was the inaugural moment of the Spanish colonization in the Pacific, followed by several other Spanish attempts at establishing permanent settlements in the islands culminating with Legazpi's landing in Cebu in 1565, right around the time the Spaniards were carrying out their conquest of Peru (starting 1532-33, but continuing through the 1570s).

In other words, Magellan and Elcano's voyage were part and parcel of an ongoing Spanish imperial project to dominate the world. It was in direct competition with the Portuguese who had established colonies on the West African coast, then across the Indian Ocean and as far out as Malacca, Taiwan, Japan, and the Spice Islands (until the temporary union of the two crowns in the 16th century). If this isn't a colonial project, I don't know what is. (See J.H. Elliot, Imperial Spain, 1469-1716; Henry Kamen, Empire: How Spain Became a World Power, 1492-1763, among many other sources).

Attempts to explain the cartoon away as a harmless celebration of Spanish heroism and daring-do is problematic but not unusual for Spanish historians. Indeed, the archivists of the Archivo General de Indias still refer to the early Spanish colonizers as "quixotes of the ocean," continuing to romanticize and nationalize Spanish imperial history. Empire continues to be a way of life for much of Spain, even if much (though not all) of its imperial holdings have been dissolved. Still, like Disney, the Spanish filmmakers might pause, and perhaps admit to tendentious rewriting of a history that obscures the cruelties of empire and recirculates the most unfortunate colonial racist stereotypes. That, of course, will never happen, just as the King will never apologize to Mexico for its past actions.

Here's a suggestion: Perhaps the distributors (rather than the filmmakers) can follow Disney's lead and add a disclaimer of sorts: "Warning: The events depicted here are systematic distortions of historical truth. They contain racist stereotypes that will most likely offend Filipinos for the sake of feeding Spanish nostalgia for their empire – a nostalgia that systematically evades the violent consequences that befell native peoples who came under imperial occupation." How's that for a compromise and a corrective? – Rappler.com

Vicente L. Rafael teaches history at the University of Washington in Seattle.

Hundreds of believers started to fill the magnificent cathedral for Mass at 5:30 in the afternoon. Before I entered the church, I stared at the gorgeous sunset on the horizon. I couldn't help but be filled with awe and gratitude.

While waiting for the Mass to start, I looked around at the ocean of believers from all walks of life. At the other end of the pew where I was sitting, lovers clung to each other like they were in a movie house. On my right near the confessional box, I saw a father patiently looking for vacant seats for his wife and kids. A few meters away from them were teenagers, eyes glued to their phones, taking selfies every two minutes like they were at a mall. And near the aisle were two elderly women praying and drowsing off. 

When the choir started singing the entrance hymn, I felt a little nostalgic, as the song reminded me of my childhood when I was an altar server in our parish. I joined the altar server ministry when I was in 3rd grade. The lector's voice echoed in the church but my mind was busy recalling memories from 30 years ago. The presider's message was relevant, but I could not stop myself from remembering the past. (READ: [OPINION] Rethinking religious education)

I grew up in a religious family in a peaceful and loving community. Although a good number of the people in our town didn't attend Mass regularly, generally, the church was the center of the people's lives. The church was filled on Sundays and especially during the Misa de Gallo, Christmas, and Lenten seasons, and during our town fiesta. 

Looking back on it now, I can't help but wonder about the effects of our faith on the quality of our life as Filipinos. How far have we gone as Christians and as Filipinos? 

It is a bit disheartening. With all due respect to the good people in the government that I admire, corruption is still one of the contributing factors as to why our country is poor. Poverty remains the one area that overshadows every administration. I have read in the news that our country is losing around P700 billion, or around 20% of the country's total budget. Our deputy ombudsman was quoted as saying that the Philippines was ranked as the 6th most corrupt among Asia Pacific countries.

Why is this? How come? With more than 80 million Catholics, the Philippines is home to the 3rd largest Catholic population in the world. That's remarkable. But why do we rank as a corrupt country despite being the only Christian nation in Asia? What happened to the faith that teaches us to love God and our neighbors? (READ: We need to talk about religion)

I reflected again on the church of my childhood. Good Christians did not smoke, drink, use illegal drugs, or fool around sexually. The Church preached that power, wealth, and sex were God's gifts, but gave more emphasis on their dangers. Like drugs, they must only be taken when necessary and with extreme caution, or else you will pay for your sins.

As an altar server, I had to be very careful of my actions lest I be reprimanded or laughed at by our leader. I had to be obedient to my parents if I wanted to please God. Sticking to the rules defined my faith.

I know something was fundamentally missing with that kind of faith, but that was how I was taught. Growing up and slowly realizing the limitations of my image of God, I had to unlearn many things from my childhood for me to be able to embrace God's love. 

Perhaps only few would argue with me when I say that what was true about the church in my childhood is also true of the Philippine Church in general. For this reason, it is my firm conviction that there is a need to move away from legalism and embrace God's love and compassion. We always fall short in the eyes of God, but that does not make God love us less. And that does not excuse us from taking our faith seriously. We should not take our eyes off Jesus, our loving savior and model; otherwise, we will lose sight of the real meaning of the Gospel.

Now, how do we connect our faith to our real-life experience? Our present realities clearly show that our faith is easier said than done. On the part of the Church, we hear stories of corruption and abuse. Gossipmonger believers can be found even along the center aisle or at the sanctuary of the church. At times, perks are emphasized and the mission becomes secondary. Sometimes, envy and unhealthy competition prevail rather than unity and support. (READ: There is no one Catholic Church)

It is a bit confusing, actually. I am not pointing fingers on who's to blame and who are responsible. Like many of us, I also have struggles in living out my faith. At times, it is an uphill battle. But I believe that all of us are responsible. Each one is part of the whole like a drop in the ocean. And despite the reality of sin and division in the Church, I still believe that our faith can positively show the way. God desires the best for us: "live life to the full" and "complete joy" in the words of Jesus.

As I see it, if we love God and His people, there should be no room for condemnation and judgment in our community. If we love our Creator and His creation, we should not throw our garbage anywhere and stop exploiting the environment. If we love our country, the common good should be above our personal interests. If we love our people, let us allow compassion and love to heal our insatiable need for power and wealth. If we really love our people, even if one is not a believer, respect for life and human dignity should never be set aside.

I think majority of our leaders, from barangay officials to the highest office in our country, are Christians. And again, with more than 80 million Catholics, ideally, we should be living in love and peace if we take our faith seriously. But that's far from the truth. That is why something is radically wrong. (READ: Philippines, land of split-level Christianity) 

The sky was already dark when I came out of the church after the Mass. I went home loaded with insights, with renewed hope and courage. The sunset before the start of the Mass reminded me that as the day ends, a new dawn is waiting. I am filled with hope and love as I work every day for the dawn that is coming. As a country, depending on how you look at it, a new dawn is also coming. No pointing fingers, just critical analysis and reflections. Let's keep hoping, and working with love and peace in our hearts. – Rappler.com

Shaun Silagan is a religious missionary.  He was active in the ministry for almost a decade before exploring other meaningful work involving art and culture. 

“Daplis lang,” yan ang dalawang salitang naglalarawan ng malasakit ng gobyerno – o kawalan nito – sa mga sinawimpalad na mangingisda ng Gem-Ver.

Ang mga salitang unang sinambit ni Energy Secretary Alfonso Cusi ang tumutumbok sa postura ni Pangulong Rodrigo Duterte at ng gabinete niya sa mga mangingisda. At malinaw ang pahaging nito: huwag na kayong mag-alboroto, ‘di naman kayo namatay. Diyan din nanggagaling ang komentong “maritime incident” lamang ito.

Matapos banggain ang Gem-Ver, nagkumahog ang gobyernong pahupain ang galit ng taumbayan sa mga Intsik. Matapos kausapin (o brasuhin?) ni dating agriculture secretary Manny Piñol ang mga mangingisda, nagbago ang tono ni Kapitan Junel Insigne. Hindi na raw siya sigurado na sinadyang banggain ang kanilang barko.

Marami mang publicity ang tulong na ibinigay ng pamahalaan, sa bandang huli, kapos pa rin ito upang makabawi ang lahat ng naperwisyo. Tinatantsang nasa P2.2 milyon ang kitang nawala sa mga mangingisda sa loob ng 4 na buwan. Nasa P1.2 milyon lamang ang natanggap na ayuda ng may-ari ng Gem-Ver. Nasa P2 milyon naman ang nagastos ng may-ari ng Gem-Ver sa pagkukumpuni nito. 

Sa kabuuan, pagbibigay ng palimos ang naging approach ng pamahalaan.

May kasabihan, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” Binigyan sila ng gagastusin, pero hindi sila tinuruang palaguin ang sana’y naging kapital para sa ibang pagkakakitaan. Binigyan sila ng bigas, pera, at maliliit na bangka, pero walang naman silang barkong pampalaot at lalong hindi sila pinapayagan sa karagatang pinakamayaman sa isda. 

Ang pinakahuling kalamansi sa sugat ng mga mangingisda: ang regalo ng isang kompanyang Intsik – ang M/V Pengyou – na isang tingin pa lang ay alam na ng mga mangingisda na hindi uubra sa Recto Bank. Bakit? May bitak ang bangka sa hull nito at may lamat ang beams. Pero nahiya silang isauli ito sa mga Intsik.

Ano ang naging papel ng Special Envoy to China na si Ramon Tulfo na umano’y nag-asikaso sa pagpapaabot ng “regalo” sa mga mangingisda? Kaya ba substandard ang biniling barko ay para ‘wag sila makarating sa malayong laot at nang hindi na makadagdag sa yamot ng Tsina?

Balikan natin ang big picture: taon-taon, pababa nang pababa ang huli ng mga mangingisda tulad ng Gem-Ver sa deep sea. Mula 135,310 metric tons noong 2012, ngayo’y nasa 123,781 metric tons na lamang. 

Ibig sabihin, nagtatagumpay ang Tsina, ang No. 1 na producer ng yamang-dagat sa buong mundo, sa pambabakod ng resources na hindi naman sa kanila. 

Malayong-malayo man sa buhay natin ang buhay ng mga mangingisda, malapit naman sila sa bituka natin. Sila, kasama ng mga magsasaka at ibang batayang sektor, ang nagtitiyak na may maihahain tayong pagkain sa hapag-kainan sa resonableng halaga. 

Lahat tayo ay damay. Sa kalaunan, sa larangan ng ekonomiya, magmamahal ang isdang huli sa deep sea ocean, at magkakasya na lamang tayo sa isdang pinalaki sa fish pen at pinataba ng fish feed. 

Dati nang busabos ang mga mangingisda. Sila ang tinatamaan ng climate change at mga climate phenomenon tulad ng El Niño at La Niña. 

Sila rin ang tinatamaan ng hagupit ng pangangayupapa ng pamahalaan natin sa mga Intsik. Ang mga mangingisda ang binubully sa karagatan. Sila ang lumiliit ang kita o sadyang nawawalan ng hanapbuhay. Sila ang magugutom. Ang mga anak nila ang hindi makapagtatapos ng pag-aaral. 

Sabi ng may-ari ng Gem-Ver, "Parang alipin po tayo ng China. Parang wala tayong karapatan sa sarili nating nasasakupan."

'Yan ang kuwento ng inabandonang mangingisda ng Gem-Ver, at ganoon na rin ng mangingisdang Pinoy.

Una silang inabandona ng bumanggang barkong Intsik. Sa isang banda’y inabandona sila ng ilang ulit pa – sa kabila ng dumagsang tulong – sa aspetong pulitika at suportang moral. 

Isa lang ang tunay na tulong na kailangan nila: pangalagaan ang karapatan nilang makapangisda sa karagatang ang may karapatan ay Pilipino. – Rappler.com

There is much excitement and anticipation over the Philippines’ economic growth in the coming years. According to the World Bank, the Philippine economy remains strong and is projected to grow 5.8% in 2019, before recovering to 6.1% and 6.2% in 2020 and 2021, respectively. 

While several factors influence economic growth, a significant driver is domestic corporate earnings. Data compiled by Bloomberg shows earnings per share of companies in the Philippine Stock Exchange (PSE) index are forecast to grow by 14.3% this year, the fastest pace since 2012.  It is forecasted that for 2019, corporate earnings will hit double digits. 

With such prospects of wealth creation, Filipinos are participating in our stock market.  For example, online investment in the Philippine Stock Exchange (PSE)  grew by almost 48% in the last 10 years. PSE’s 2018 Stock Market Investor Profile Report shows total accounts in 2018 was 25.4% higher than in 2017, as driven by a 60.9% increase in online accounts created by millennials who investing and trading online. As noted by the PSE president and chief executive officer Ramon Monzon, this surge of millennials is due to the growing popularity of online trading, leading to the fast growth in the number of stock market investors in the last 5 years.

This is a clear indication of improvement in the Filipinos’ financial literacy, aspirations, and participation, an area  that both the government and the private sector have devoted substantial time and resources to for years. The current generation is more proactive in wealth creation than the generation past that opted to keep their money safe in banks or under their pillows.

Dampener

However, public participation in our stock market may be significantly dampened with the PIFITA or the “Passive Income and Financial Intermediary Taxation Act,” currently pending with Congress.

Under the PIFITA, it is proposed that dividends received by individuals on domestic shares shall be taxed at the final withholding income tax rate of 15%, up from the current 10%. This move to increase the tax on dividend earnings makes it more costly for the common Filipino to participate in the domestic economic growth in several ways.

First, it is cheaper for corporations to invest in shares than individual Filipinos. Inter-corporate dividends remain to be income tax-exempt whereas Filipino individual investors will be taxed at 15%.

Second, it is cheaper for  Filipinos to invest in other ASEAN countries, which have no or lower withholding tax on dividend payments. For example, in Brunei, Malaysia, Myanmar, Singapore, dividends on shares earned by Filipinos are not subject to withholding income tax. In Vietnam, it is 5%, while in Laos and Thailand, it is 10%. The proposal should be a cause for concern. Significantly, despite our good macroeconomic fundamentals and  growth of online investments in the recent past, less that one percent of our population is still trading in our stock market, compared to Thailand at 3.9%,  Malaysia at 5.8%, and Singapore at 25.9% of their population.

The proposed measure is inconsistent with other laws which Congress have earlier passed (like the Personal Equity Retirement Account Act), which have special provisions to encourage more overseas Filipinos to invest in our capital markets.

Third, individual Filipino investors will be taxed at a higher rate than some foreign corporate investors who will taxed at a lower rate of 10% under relevant tax treaties. 

It appears that just as when Filipinos, especially through the millennials, are gaining financial knowledge and flexibility, the government is throwing a roadblock. 

Is it worth it?

I wonder how much revenues the government expects from increasing the tax on dividends earned by individuals, and if the move under the PIFITA justifies the potential loss in public participation in the equities market.

It is no secret that despite its age, our stock market remains to be one of the smallest in the region. The move will certainly aggravate the situation.

To say the least, the proposal will be counter-productive to what the government and the private sector have been doing. Unlike VAT and excise tax, which taxes excessive and unnecessary consumption, PIFITA is taxing financially responsible behavior. 

The  proposed tax appears unsound, and Congress may want to  rethink it before it is too late. – Rappler.com

The author, a senior partner of the ACCRALAW, is a trustee and former president of the Shareholders’ Association of the Philippines (SharePHIL) and a trustee of the Financial Executives Institute of the Philippines (FINEX). The views in this column are exclusively his. He may be contacted at francis.ed.lim@gmail.com.

From the wealthiest countries in Europe and North America, to emerging democracies like the Philippines, populism spreads really fast. What is upsetting to me is that at a time when we are captured by this groupthink, the academia is very active in analyzing our choices and actions, yet the spaces for engagement are really limited.

The Philippines has a long history of active citizenship and a vibrant civil society. However, this did not prevent our current predilection for fake news and misinformation. The claim that being an active citizen is enough to protect democracy ignores the fact that populism accepts popular sovereignty. The only difference between active citizenship (from the liberal democratic standpoint) and fascism is that the latter dismisses the constitutional order and liberal protections for individuals, saying they are irrelevant.

The intelligentsia cannot adequately contribute to safeguard democracy or insulate the people from populism by preaching about the absence of critical thinking. Driving towards solutions requires transforming “them” to “us.” (READ: [OPINION] Pundits and professors)

If we start to think that “bobotantes” (stupid voters) choose clowns or unqualified candidates because they seem to represent pressing concerns, perhaps we can reflect on the failure of political parties, evidenced by lack of real constituencies and shifting alliances. For instance, people are willing to vote – even actively campaign – for a patronizing congressman, as it appears pragmatic in a system that provides a very limited chance for an ordinary citizen to run, much less win, an election. (READ: Vote-selling among the poor a 'logical' decision - think tank)

Having said that, I believe that intelligent people are not innocent. Because of academic tribalism and the domineering attitude of some aging gods who assume the role of gatekeepers, young intellectuals who could otherwise have public platforms are helpless in the face of bloggers who become online sensations for appealing to everyone’s confirmation bias. (READ: Blogger-propagandists: The new crisis managers)

There is also this problem about the changing focus of universities. Lately, they appear to concentrate more on improving their student’s employment prospects. Although many institutions have developed productive partnerships with local communities and have invested resources, they need to place greater emphasis on becoming more vigorous partners in the search for answers to our most urgent social and moral problems. (READ: Why academic achievements are not enough)

Simply sending more people to college does not address the root of the problem. To impart progressive attitudes to common citizens, universities must live up to the same values they promote: tolerance and social justice. Too much research is directed at tightly knit intellectual circles. Academics must also provide a platform for knowledge exchange with stakeholders outside its immediate community. Only by letting intellectualism to thrive in the margins of society can we make the Philippines more equitable. By saying that the academe should be “everywhere,” it means that professors and social researchers must extend their reach, overturning traditional hierarchies and instilling critical thinking in an open society.

This leads to a discussion of social development and inclusiveness. If you have a decent job, live in a condo, and are sure you are not a “bobotante,” would you mind a conversation with the taxi driver or the package delivery boy about the things that matter to him? Some may harbor strong political opinions that do not align with our generally accepted norms on political correctness. This is an intuitive response engendered by the limits of institutional participation and their disenfranchisement from economic growth. Doing this experiment may help you realize the extent to which we, intellectuals, have become a sounding board to ourselves. (READ: [ANALYSIS] The myth of the 'rational' Filipino voter)

To question your intellectual tribe and its contribution to society, that leaves you with ammunition against those who accuse smart people of being a snob. – Rappler.com

Francis Bautista, or Kiko, is a graduate student and civil servant. He is an MA student of Philippine studies at the University of the Philippines Diliman. Currently, he is finishing his thesis on state and civil society synergies in the context of social welfare and development.

Rodrigo Duterte’s regime doesn't escape irony.

In August, in the second week of the Senate’s witch-hunt into the alleged communist recruitment in universities, Malacañang released a freshly-signed copy of Republic Act No. 11369, the National Students’ Day Act. RA 11369 declared November 17 – observed globally as International Students’ Day – as a national holiday in “recognition of the invaluable contribution of student activism to Philippine democracy.”

The new law have been highly appreciated were it not for the present political situation, where the very President who had endorsed it had also issued Executive Order 70, greenlighting a “Whole-of-Nation” approach targeting legal activists, dissenters, and leftist organizations critical of the regime’s anti-people policies and pronouncements. The Senate – presently dominated by Duterte’s men – has since been engaged in a show of red-tagging student leaders and activists, their teachers, and their academic environments.

While it is important to recognize the turbulent history of student activism in the country, it is much more essential to acknowledge that the travails activists had faced in the country’s past – from colonial regimes, to Ferdinand Marcos’ dictatorship, to post-EDSA governments including Duterte's – are not exactly things of the past.

Threats and intimidation against progressives continue to exist. The state’s guns are still trained on social activists. 

During Martial Law, for example, Liliosa Hilao – the activist and campus journalist who became the first Filipino killed by the Marcos regime – is a name too often mentioned as an example of young Filipinos’ courageous dissent against the dictator. But in our time, we have Alexandra Pacalda – the activist and campus journalist who belonged to the College Editors’ Guild of the Philippines – whom the Duterte regime jailed, and who continues to be in detention after the Armed Forces of the Philippines’ baseless charges that she was engaged in armed rebellion. (READ: Gone too soon: 7 youth leaders killed under Martial Law)

Myles Albasin is another proof. For the “crime” of affiliating with the national democratic organization Anakbayan in Cebu, the military red-tagged her and continued to keep her in detention. In other parts of the country, other student activists have been the subject of unrelenting surveillance, red-tagging, and harassment by the Duterte regime’s forces.

Duterte's edict made this possible. E0 70 gave birth to Oplan Kapanatagan, the menacing counter-insurgency blueprint patterned after the United States’ formula.

On November 22, 2018, Duterte signed Memorandum Order No 32, further boosting his arsenal of legal ammunition against activists. It seeks to “suppress” lawless violence in Samar, Bicol, and Negros. What had sprouted in its midst, however, was the more sinister Oplan Sauron. True to its name, Sauron buttressed a series of murders, arrests, and raids targetting progressive organizations in Negros, including the one conducted on Halloween. In Bicol, MO 32 led to the death of youth activist Ryan Hubilla, a Grade 12 student. (READ: Death comes unprovoked upon Negros Island)

Duterte’s designation of November 17 as a special holiday to appreciate student activism should be met with heightened resistance, as the irony of this act points to a stark truth: criminalizing dissent is the crime. Duterte is today's student activists’ berdugo (butcher), much like Marcos, Gloria Arroyo, Jovito Palparan. (READ: WATCH: The 'Butcher' is home no more)

Student activists, in their observance of the November 17 declaration, could benefit much more not from listening to Eduardo Año’s timeworn litanies of “communist recruitment” in youth camps, but from revisiting history: Rizal, the ilustrado band, and Bonifacio’s Katipunan paved the way for the first anti-colonial movement that overthrew the Spaniards. Activists also kept nationalist fervor burning throughout the American and Japanese occupations. During the Marcos era, Kabataang Makabayan spearheaded the First Quarter Storm protests that shook the regime to its core, and kept the resistance alive throug 14 dark years, until the EDSA uprising kicked Marcos out of Malacañang in 1986. (READ: [OPINION] Activism as the foundation of the university)

And up to now, young activists continue to stand in Lean Alejandro’s “line of fire, place of honor." – Rappler.com

Karl Patrick Suyat is currently the editorial head of Fiat Publication (the official publication of University of Perpetual Help Systems-Jonelta campus), the Laguna provincial spokesperson for Youth UNBOUND-ST, and a national democratic activist staunchly advocating against historical revisionism, fascism, and injustice.

Ang hirap sa pagbabasa, minsan, matutuklasan mong dati na palang umiiral ang iniisip mo pa lang na konsepto. Iyong matagal mo nang pinaglalaruan sa isip at inaakala mong bago, tapos mababasa mong may isa na palang iskolar – o sige, kahit tambay, dahil wala na namang halaga kung ano ang propesyon ng naunang nagkaroon ng parehong idea – sa ibang bansa ang nakapag-isip nito halos 20 taon na ang nakararaan.  

Ganito rin ako dati nang sumusulat pa ng tula at kuwento. Iyong makakabasa ako ng napakagaling na akda, tapos panghihinayangan ko kung bakit hindi ako ang unang nakaisip, hindi unang nakapagsulat, lalo’t mistulang simple pero napakagaling ang pagkakapahayag. May ganitong panghihinayang. May ganitong, sige, hindi ko na ikukubli, paninibugho. 

Bilang manlilikha at akademiko, bilang iskolar, nakapanlulumo ito. Iyong akala mo unique sa bansa natin ang kakaibang paggamit natin ng social media, pero hindi pala. May tumalakay na sa isang aklat hindi pa man sumisikat ang social media, ni wala pa sa guni-guni marahil ni Mark Zuckerberg ang Facebook. Ang pantas na ito, isang abogado mula sa Harvard Law School, ang nag-predict ng notorious dynamics ng sociality ng internet at new media bilang platform ng pakikipag-ugnayan o hindi na pakikipag-ugnayan sa kapwa. Platform hindi na lang ng komunikasyon kung hindi ng pagkakahati at pagpapalalim ng pagkakahating ito habang tumatagal tayo sa social media at iba pang abenida ng ugnayan sa internet. 

Nataya ng abogado at propesor sa Harvard Law School na si Cass Sunstein sa kanyang akdang republic.com (Princeton University Press, 2001), na nakabatay sa kanyang pagsisiyasat sa takbo ng pamumuhay ng mga netizen ang pagkakapangkat-pangkat at paglalim ng paniniwala, to the point of extremism, ng mga gaya nating nilalang na babad na babad sa internet, social media, at new media sa kabuuan. 

Sinipi naman ng aklat na Understanding New Media ni Eugenia Siapera (2nd edition, Sage, 2018) ang irony ng pakikisangkot natin sa maraming birtuwal na pamayanan. Kasapi tayo ng maraming pangkat sa internet. At hindi mapipigilan ang marami pa nating pakikisangkot dahil sa accessibility ng teknolohiya at impormasyon, pero sa lahat ng ito, mistulang naglulunoy pa rin tayo sa batis ng indibidwalismo dahil sa dali ng customization ng new media platform kung saan tayong mga Filipino ay tumatambay 10 oras kada araw.

Halimbawa, dahil mahilig ako sa vintage watches at fountain pens, member ako ng mga Facebook group at forums tungkol sa kinahihiligan kong ito. Ilang oras ang nauubos ko rito kapag walang masyadong trabaho at utos ang asawa ko. Bumibili at nagbebenta ako minsan ng mga hindi ko na ginagamit na relos (walang wrist time, sa jargon ng horologists) at fountain pens. 

Dahil nagtuturo naman ako sa unibersidad na may aktibong sports program (Go, USTe! Maisingit lang), kasapi ako ng mga grupo at forum sa internet na sumusuporta sa aming basketball team. 

Iba pa ang membership ko sa mga pages na tungkol sa Lucban dahil doon ako nakatira, sa Valenzuela dahil doon ako tumanda. Iba pang grupo ang sa marami kong batch sa paaralan. Kasapi ako, at least sa Facebook groups, ng ilang alumni associations. Iba pa ang mga writers group at interest groups at ang maraming interes ng pagiging akademiko; iba pa rin ang mga Facebook group ko sa iba’t ibang tungkulin at pagkatao ko sa buhay. May direktang silbi man sa buhay ko o wala.  

Marami ito dahil aktibo ako sa napakaraming kinabibilangan ko sa lipunan. Hindi ko na babanggitin dito ang pagiging kasapi ko ng showbiz fans clubs. Shout out nga pala sa mga kapwa ko Popsters.  

Napakadaling sumali at mag-customize. Hindi nakatulong dito ang kakayahan natin sa pagpinid ng birtuwal na pinto sa iba. Kung makakabasa ka ng lubhang annoying at paulit-ulit na status sa Facebook, puwedeng i-unfollow. O i-snooze for 30 days muna para mabigyan ng pagkakataon, baka sakaling maging maayos pagkatapos ng isang buwan. Puwedeng mag-unfriend o mag-block ng kaibigan o kakilala. O kaibigang putik.  

Hindi mo gusto ang kanyang extreme political stand? Hindi mo gusto ang kanyang paulit-ulit na pag-share ng fake news? Ang kanyang paniniwalang dapat mamatay ang kahit sinong “nanlaban”? Kahit kaibigan mo pa ito, kahit kumare, kamag-anak, kapatid, puwedeng pagsarhan ng birtuwal na pinto. Puwedeng ikubli sa kailaliman ng social media Hades mo. Never to be seen, never to be found and heard again. Ang gaan sa pakiramdam. 

Dahil kung sa realidad, mahirap ang ganitong uri ng pakikitungo, pagpapatahimik, pag-iwas, o pagwawakas ng pagkakaibigan. Pero dahil birtuwal, kaydaling putulin ng ugnayan. Hindi mo kailangang mag-ipon ng lakas ng loob, mag-ipon ng salita. Isang click lang, paalam. 

At ito ang delikado. Marami sa atin ang nag-a-unfollow dahil hindi natin kasundo sa anumang pinaniniwalaan natin. Napi-filter na lamang natin ang gusto natin. Nasusubaybayan at nasusuportahan ang pinaniniwalaan. Kung kokontra kahit pa makatuwiran, buburahin. Hanggang dumating ang napakadaling panahong ang mababasa, mapapanood, maririnig na lang natin sa news feed ay paborable sa atin. Sabi ni Siapera, “[This] polarization is not good for society which ends up becoming fragmented – less a society and more a collection of polarized groups that share little, if anything, with each other.”   

Ito raw, ayon kay Sunstein, batay sa pagsipi ni Siapera, ang maaaring pagmulan ng extremism. Habang nililinis mo at kino-customize ang mapapanood at mababasa, lumalalim ka sa iyong pinaniniwalaan. Wala na ang kasalungat na insight. Wala na ang kritikal na pagsusuri dahil sa highly customizable platform tulad ng Facebook. Wala na ang peripheral reason. Ang meron na lamang ay ang virtual tapaojos.  

Tapaojo. Salitang Español na ang ibig sabihin ay piring sa mata. Bakit hindi ko na lang tinawag na piring o takip? Kasi ang tinutukoy ko rito ay ang inilalagay na takip sa mata ng kabayo para maging limitado ang makikita. Diretso lang. Wala nang peripheral vision. Walang ibang makikita kung hindi ang nasa harap. Ganito ang karamihan sa atin. Bakit nga naman magpapa-stress sa kasalungat ng katuwiran, puwede namang i-block? Puwedeng i-customize ang makikita, mababasa, mapapanood natin 10 oras sa isang araw.

Gaya ngayon. Lumulunsad ang binabasa mong ito sa internet. Maaaring hindi mo ito magustuhan kaya ia-unfollow mo ang Rappler. Pero kung magugustuhan, maaaring i-share sa ibang kapanalig mo. 

Aaminin kong ilang ulit na akong naglinis ng news feed. Ilang ulit nang in-unfollow o in-unfriend ang kasalungat ng aking pinaniniwalaan, lalo sa highly divisive na karnabal ng politika sa bansa. Pero kailangan kong magtira, dalawa o tatlong kasalungat ko ng pinaniniwalaan. Kailangan kong makabasa ng kasalungat na opinyon upang matimbang ang mga bagay-bagay kahit pa, sa totoo lang, nakaka-stress. Dahil habang lumalalim ang mga bias ko, dapat nakikita ko pa rin ang kalawakan ng mundo, kaya wala akong tapaojo. – Rappler.com 

Bukod sa pagtuturo ng creative writing, pop culture, research, at seminar in new media sa Departamento ng Literatura at sa Graduate School ng Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas, research fellow din si Joselito D. delos Reyes, PhD, sa UST Research Center for Culture, Arts and Humanities. Siya ang coordinator ng AB Creative Writing Program ng Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas. 

November 20 this year marks my 1000th day in detention. On February 24, 2017, I was arrested from the steps of the Philippine Senate, and has since been under unjust detention for a crime that I, quite plainly, did not commit.

The only “offense” I am guilty of is being “that female government official” that Rodrigo R. Duterte vowed to “destroy in public” for being among the “human rights stalwarts” that made him their “whipping boy.” All because, 10 years ago, I investigated his alleged involvement in the operations of the so-called Davao Death Squad, and again had the temerity to speak out against the spate of extrajudicial killings that unfairly targeted the poor under his so-called “War on Drugs.”

Of course, I don’t expect people to take my word for it. In fact, I am a big believer that the world needs to harbor a healthy dose of skepticism and to exercise a great deal of critical thinking whenever politicians and public figures make any claim. If reason had reigned above the government’s fear-mongering, thousands of people may not have been senselessly killed and I would not have been arrested under false charges.

But now that I am closer to being in prison for 3 years, and with the trials in my cases currently ongoing, my concern is less about my own plight, but about the world “out there.”  

Maddeningly illogical

Sure, at times, I wonder what kind of world I will find (if and) when I regain my freedom. But lately, I am mostly wondering what is going on out in the “free world” right now.

My own ventures into the “outside world” have been confined to those few hours a month when I am brought to court for my trial – which could be as often as twice a week or as seldom as perhaps once a month. And what I see simultaneously saddens, horrifies and angers me.  

I have had to sit quietly as a parade of inmates convicted of heinous crimes – from multiple murder to kidnapping for ransom and drug trafficking – take the stand and tell lies about my alleged involvement in the illegal drug trade. 

One witness – a former cop sentenced to life imprisonment for murder and frustrated murder (for attempting to kill a witness in the murder case), and who was also accused of masterminding the abduction of an 11-year-old boy –  claimed that he carried P1.5 million inside a Nike shoe box, and was allowed to personally hand it to me in broad daylight in front of countless witnesses consisting of inmates, guards, Bureau of Corrections officials and my own security.

I allegedly accepted it without a word, and without even checking if there’s something dangerous inside the package. He himself claims he was not part of the drug trade, and yet he claimed it was proof that I received money from the drug trade.

It was all so maddeningly illogical. And it got worse.

While on the stand, and during moments when there was a lull in the proceedings, the same witness caught my attention and, while looking at me straight in the eye, made throat-slitting motions while mouthing that he will be killed (“papatayin ako”), suggesting that I should not take what he says against him because he is testifying under duress.  

I brought it up before the judge, without the prosecutors around. But without cameras recording the proceedings, the judge’s ability to fully observe the demeanor of a witness in order to assess the truthfulness of his testimony is severely undermined. If the judge didn’t see it – it didn’t happen. Never mind that it happened in the full view of several spectators, not just myself.

Age of Lawfare

As a life-long believer and defender of the Rule of Law, it sickens me to see it so publicly perverted and made a mockery of – weaponized as a tool to eliminate political discourse and silence legitimate criticisms and dissent.  

And yet, I am one of the lucky ones in this Age of “Lawfare” – a term formed by combining the words “law” and “warfare” to signify a form of war consisting of the use of the legal system against a perceived enemy, such as by damaging or delegitimizing them, tying up their time or winning a public relations victory.  

Lawfare has been used for everything from political assassination to the orchestration of civilian deaths. The “red-tagging” of human rights activists happening in regions of the Philippines is exactly that: label them as communists or terrorists even without an iota of proof or an opportunity to defend themselves, the government has made civilians military targets. It can happen to a UN Special Rapporteur and it can happen to ordinary activists who are helping members of indigenous peoples groups defend their rights.

And it is happening even to elected public officials. Mine is no isolated case. Sedition and other charges were filed against opposition figures, including the Vice President, myself, and another sitting senator and a former senator.

Now a pandemic

Last September 19, 2019, a briefing was held before the US Congress Tom Lantos Human Rights Commission to tackle the plight of Parliamentarians at Risk Around the World. There, it became painfully clear that the use of lawfare to further authoritarian rule and to eliminate democratic discourse is now a pandemic.  

According to the briefing given by Inter-Parliamentary Union President Gabriela Cuevas Barrón, last year alone, the IPU’s Committee on the Human Rights of Parliamentarians dealt with a total of 564 cases of parliamentarians from 43 countries, which is practically twice the number since 2014. 

One only has to hear about the detention of lawmakers in Venezuela and Turkey to know that, along with authoritarian rule, comes the suppression of the political opposition. Dictators, after all, fear nothing as much as being confronted with their abuses and facing the consequences of their actions.  And by silencing the opposition, who will be left to stop them from trampling on the rights of the populace?

The people of Hong Kong know this, which is why the ongoing massive pro-democracy protests in that jurisdiction was propelled by the arrest of high-profile pro-democracy activists and lawmakers who opposed a politically important proposed law – the Extradition Law. And it is also why the main targets are the human rights defenders, the pro-democracy advocates and opposition lawmakers – some of whom have suffered tremendous abuse such as one lawmaker whose ear was bitten off during the protests. An intensified conflict between student protesters and the Hong Kong police is developing which, some fear, might escalate into another Tiananmen. 

Laws can, unfortunately, be weaponized for political advantage. That is a fact.  

To surrender is to welcome death

Oppressive regimes would like us to admit it and, in so admitting, force us to abandon our defense of the Rule of Law. They drag us in front of a funhouse mirror, and force us to accept the distorted form of the law as its true form; that there is no truth and there is no justice, except the truth and the justice they would allow.

Yet that is precisely why we have to bitterly defend it from being perverted. When a body is afflicted with a disease, we find a cure and we treat it. We fight. For to surrender is to welcome death.  

So, too, with these attempts to corrupt and co-opt the Rule of Law. We have to fight to regain its legitimacy in essence and in application.  

To defend it is to defend what makes us human beings living in a civilized world. To defend it is to defend our freedom to seek truth, to seek justice and to seek our own destiny.  

That is the reason why I sit every hearing, and confront the witnesses against me. 

My legal defense team dots all the “i”s and crosses all the “t”s. We follow procedure. We dig deep into the protections of the Constitution, and the rights I have under existing laws.

I fight within the system, and I play my part in this dark, surreal, legal, and political theatrical event that is my so-called “trial.” – Rappler.com

There was widespread outrage towards the violent dispersal and arrests that happened after the workers of Regent Foods Corporation went on strike last October 16. We have seen this story many times before: similar to what happened with NutriAsia, Zagu, and other enterprises, laborers have gone on strike to demand higher wages, better working conditions, regularization, etc.

The public, in general, have been very supportive of the protesters, calling for justice for those who were injured during the dispersal. Pasig City Mayor Vico Sotto even sided with the Regent workers, calling for their release from detention, as they are not criminals. Several activists and concerned citizens also urged the public to boycott the companies' products.

But how far would boycotting products and sympathizing with the workers really take us?

While these workers' suffering is real and undeniable, I believe there are bigger questions that confront us: Why is capitalism so dominant in the first place? How is it that waged labor has come to be seen as the only "normal" form of work? Whatever happened to informal economies?

What is capitalism?

Capitalism refers to an economic system where actors privately own and control assets (e.g. factories) with the goal of maximizing profit. Because the terms "waged labor," "for profit," and "private property" are frequently uttered, it appears that we have accorded capitalism a special and privileged place in our lives.

Economic geographer JK Gibson-Graham refers to this practice as "capitalocentrism." This happens when all activities associated with capitalism (e.g. waged labor, commodity production) are assigned a positive value while other non-capitalist forms of activities are seen as eccentric or deviant and are therefore looked down upon.

Economic anthropologist Karl Polanyi further uses the term "economistic fallacy" to explain how capitalocentrism overly simplifies and limits our idea of the economy by suppressing other possible forms of productive activity.

Because we have accorded so much power to capitalism, no wonder factory workers are mere powerless victims of exploitative capitalist enterprises. (READ: [OPINION] NutriAsia skirts the law to oppress workers, hide its greed)

How then do we begin to challenge the dominance of capitalism and the disheartening representation of workers as passive victims?

Reframing our economy

In order to account for the other forms of economic activities that have been marginalized by the dominant conceptions of capitalism, we need to reframe our economy. Reframing refers to seeing something familiar in a new light. Through reframing, we are able to modify familiar understandings and engage in new ways of thinking and acting about the economy.

Gibson-Graham proposes a new concept called "diverse economy," in which mainstream economy is joined by all the economic "others" that sustain material survival and well-being. The diverse economy is arranged according to 3 sets of economic relations: transactions, labor, and enterprise.

In a diverse economy, transactions consist of alternative market exchanges (e.g. local trading systems, alternative currencies, ethical or "fair trade" products, etc) and non-market exchanges (e.g. gift giving, barter, gleaning, etc) where there is no formal calculation of how much is given away. (READ: Negros Trade Fair: Bayanihan the Ilonggo way)

Apart from waged labor, the diverse economy also includes unpaid work (e.g. housework, family care, volunteering) that is compensated in the form of love, respect, and companionship. There are also alternative paid labor arrangements such as in-kind (e.g. a minister performing caring labor that is supported by in-kind payments such as access to housing and food) or self-employment (those who decide their own wage levels).

Finally, aside from capitalist enterprise, the diverse economy is also made up of alternative capitalist enterprises (e.g. green firms, non-profit, state enterprises) as well as non-capitalist enterprises (e.g. communal, feudal). (READ: Slowing down from fast fashion)

We can therefore imagine our economy as an iceberg, and we need to highlight the range of people, places, and activities that are below the waterline. 

A diverse economy example in Bohol

As a specific example, Gibson-Graham documented the incredible range of transactions, forms of labor, and kinds of enteprises people in the small municipality of Jagna in Bohol are engaged in. 

She discovered that Jagna residents participated in various forms of unpaid labor where there is a culture of gifting, sharing, and cooperation attached to rice cultivation. The rice farmers also engaged in a barter system where they exchanged their rice with fish from the fishermen. There were also several mechanisms for obtaining money outside of formal bank lending, such as dajong (community-level mortuary assistance) and gala (money given to a couple getting married). (READ: Baguio City's blooming barter culture)

This documentation of the diverse economy indicates that capitalist economic activity is just a small subset among the other practices that involve sharing, volunteering, gifting, and collective work in the community.

Challenging capitalism

By focusing our attention on the diverse economic activities and practices in our communities, we can begin to challenge the dominant representations of capitalism. Instead of seeing the workers as mere victims of capitalist enterprises, we can start to see new economic possibilities where they are empowered to negotiate and make ethical decisions.

We need to start by reframing our understanding of the economy and the workers. After all, changing ourselves and our understanding, however partially and locally, is to change the world. – Rappler.com

Justin G. See is a PhD candidate at the Department of Social Inquiry in La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia. His research examines the politics and power behind climate change adaptation programs in the Philippines.

“Ampon ka lang (You’re just adopted)!"

This is how I remember Filipino teleseryes depict being adopted onscreen. Sure, there are some positive stories out there, but for the most part, adoption or being adopted has been given this negative notion in mainstream Filipino media. There may be some truth to it, but it can get borderline ridiculous how not being a biological child can be seen in this light. 

I, for one, can say that this cannot be further from the truth – at least in my case.

For as long as I can recall, I’ve always known that I was adopted by my parents. I may not remember what exact age they told me but I do know that this truth has been ingrained in my memory even as a child, because my parents did not want me to see it as a negative thing. In fact, they want to see it as a blessing – and this is how I still see it to this day. 

My parents already had 3 biological kids when they adopted me. Both of them still wanted more children after my older siblings, but my mom couldn’t bear any more kids due to her prior caesarian operation. When she tells me of this story, she always says how much they’d all prayed for a child to come into their lives. Fortunately enough, there was a newborn baby that could not be properly taken care of by her biological mother and was given up for adoption straight from the hospital. That newborn infant was me. 

My adoptive parents' names appear on my birth certificatn along with my birthday, September 8, 1988, they date they’d chosen for me. My mom was a devout Catholic so it’s no surprise why she chose that date, as well as the name she chose for me, which is Mary. I honestly do not know the real story behind why I was given up for adoption nor what happened to my birth mother, but I guess I never felt the need to really know in the first place. 

I’ve lived such a privileged life – a life that not all adopted children end up experiencing. To say that this is a blessing to me would be an understatement. Since I was a child, my parents and my 3 older siblings have spoiled me rotten and have given me so much love and care that not once did I view being adopted as a bad thing. I may not look exactly like they do, but they looked at me completely as their own — the same goes for my two younger twin siblings, whom my parents had also adopted from the hospital.

I simply never wanted for more nor have I ever felt that there was something missing in my life. I’m guessing this is the very reason why I never felt compelled to search for my birth mother or know more about her (except maybe for how she looks). 

While being adopted was no big deal at home, it can be quite funny how other people react when I tell them I’m adopted. I remember telling my friends even from kindergarten and grade school, and they would always give me this slightly shocked look that they try to rein in. And then I just laugh it out, and they proceed to ask me all sorts of questions, which almost always include my possible heritage given that I have very fair skin, jet-black hair, and smaller eyes. From there, my whole adoption story just becomes a fun guessing game as to whether I’m part Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, and so on. But my adoption story means so much more than that. For me, it means owing everything to my parents and my family – a debt that I’m happy to carry with me as long as I live. 

When I think of my parents, there’s this tremendous outpouring of love and gratitude that I feel for them. They gave me life and it’s a life that I never would have had a chance at having had they not chosen to adopt me. I think of that small window of opportunity where I was given up for adoption and they were there ready to take me in. What if they weren’t? What if there was no one who could adopt me? These questions and more I always ask myself as a reminder of how truly blessed I am to have this life I’m living to this day. 

Much like how they don’t want me to see being adopted as a bad thing, I also do not see my “debt” to them in a negative aspect as well. I owe them everything and this is the kind of debt I am proud of having, the kind that drives me to be a better person, the kind that helps me to be kinder to myself when I fall short or make mistakes,and the kind that pushes me to pay it forward. 

My dad had recently passed away and it was such a big blow to our family, having lost the best dad in the world. Seeing him die has forever left this indelible mark on me, and inasmuch as it can be very painful, I’m also happy for having it because he really was  the best father I could ever ask for.

So now, more than ever, I’m appreciating everything this life has been giving me – the good and the bad, all that makes me happy and causes me pain, and everything in between. There were many ways my life could have played out, but being adopted by my parents made me realize how my life is a gift and I should live and lead it as such. – Rappler.com

In Hanoi, the buzz at the international conference on the South China Sea held first week of November was this: Will Vietnam do a Philippines and take China to court?

The interest in this lingering question intensified as Vietnam’s Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Le Hoai Trung gave the strongest statement ever on a legal solution to its long festering maritime dispute with China. He said in his keynote address that “arbitration and international litigation” are options they are considering in the light of “serious violations” of its exclusive economic zone (EEZ). He did not name China but the reference was obvious.

For about 5 months, from mid-June to early November, China and Vietnam were locked in a standoff near Vanguard Bank. A Chinese geological survey ship and its armed coast guard escorts entered Vietnam’s EEZ in a menacing manner, where Vietnam and a Russian energy company, Rosneft, were drilling for oil and gas. Apart from issuing a series of diplomatic protests, Vietnam vessels eyeballed their Chinese opponents in tense but peaceful confrontations.

The signal from China was clear: It wanted Vietnam to cease its operations because China claims this area near the Spratly Islands.

This is not the first time that China harassed Vietnam. In 2014, China deployed its oil-drilling platform near the Paracels, claimed by both Vietnam and China, which led to ramming of vessels between the 2 forces. The conflict spilled over into violent street protests in Vietnam.

There are striking parallels to Manila. Both incidents are reminiscent of  skirmishes that triggered the decision of President Benigno Aquino III to hale China to an international court in 2013.

• In 2011, China forced Philippine vessels to stop surveying for oil and gas near Reed Bank which lies within the country’s EEZ.
• The months-long standoff between Manila and Beijing over fishing rights in Scarborough Shoal in 2012 was the last straw for Aquino.

‘Elephant in the room’

Similarly, will the recent Vanguard Bank standoff propel Hanoi to file an arbitration case against Beijing?

During the conference, Bill Hayton, a journalist who has extensively studied the South China Sea, referred to the litigation option as the “elephant in the room.” While Vietnam has been keeping this tool in its diplomatic arsenal, it has served more as a leverage against China—something  it can dangle whenever China bullies them—than as a real option.

My sense is: A debate has been taking place within Vietnam’s Communist Party on this contentious issue with the Ministry of Foreign affairs (MOFA) leading the charge for arbitration. For one, MOFA, through its think tank—the Diplomatic Academy of Vietnam (DAV)—organizes the annual South China Sea international conference to raise the profile of the maritime disputes. Now on its 11^th year, the conference is part of Vietnam’s international public diplomacy.

This time, it highlighted the UN Convention of the Law of the Sea (Unclos), now on its 25th year. Vietnam invited 2 of the 5 judges who decided the Philippines vs China case, as speakers: Rüdiger Wolfrum and Stanislaw Pawlak. (Watch Rappler’s interview with Pawlak in November 2018 when he came to speak in Manila.) This session contributed to the buzz that Vietnam was seriously mulling about suing China.

Some participants who have followed the conference told me that it has grown to become one of the biggest meetings in the world on this subject, attended by both government and non-government representatives. More than 150 participants came from at least 20 countries, including the US, China, India, Australia, Taiwan, Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, and from some European nations. (Disclosure: The DAV invited me to speak at a panel and hosted my 2-day stay.)

To sue or not to sue

I asked Prof. Yann-huei Song of Taiwan, an Unclos expert who was a speaker at the conference, what he thought Vietnam would do. “They’re considering it…anything can happen,” he said. “Look, the Berlin Wall fell!” He added, though, that the relations between the communist parties of Vietnam and China are good, one factor which will affect Hanoi’s future decision.

Outside the conference, Norah Huang, who heads the international studies group at Prospect Foundation in Taiwan, a leading think tank, said that the Philippine victory in the 2016 arbitration “fits Vietnam…Since the Philippines is not taking action [to assert the ruling], its Vietnam’s turn.”

She added that Vietnam used to talk about the litigation option privately but the announcement of Deputy Foreign MinisterTrung sends a “signal” that they seem ready to do it. (I spoke to Huang in Taipei during a recent visit.)

Others think it is unlikely that Vietnam will sue China. The ties between the 2 countries’ communist parties appear to be a bond that’s difficult to breach.

For its part, China vehemently warned Vietnam “to avoid taking actions that may complicate matters.” A spokesperson for the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs said this in response to a question on Trung’s statement about possibly taking the arbitration route.

Next year, though, will offer opportunities for Vietnam to take a high-profile role. It will chair the Asean where long-running negotiations on the Code of Conduct with China will continue. Also, Vietnam will be a non-permanent member of the United Nations Security Council for 2020-2021. There, it can raise China’s aggressive incursions in the South China Sea.

Will 2020 be the year Vietnam will hale China to court? If so, the Philippine case will come in handy for them. – Rappler.com

Here are related stories you may have missed:

Vietnam joins Philippines in case vs China

PH to tribunal: Vietnam boosts case vs China

Vietnamese in PH celebrate Hague ruling vs China

You might call it policy-making by trial-and-error.

In a recent late night press conference, following days of speculation, President Rodrigo Duterte ordered Agriculture Secretary William Dar to stop all importation of rice and buy more rice from our local farmers.

Said Duterte, “Kung gusto talaga nating walang problema, bilhin lahat ng produce ng farmers….Para ‘yung farmers, may resulta sa pawis nila.” (To avoid problems let’s buy all the produce of farmers. So their efforts will pay off.) 

Some sectors are hailing these pronouncements, which they expect will aid rice farmers whose incomes have been wiped out by the recent Rice Tariffication Act.

But let’s not forget that Duterte himself signed the Rice Tariffication Act on Valentine’s Day this year, resulting in the massive wave of rice imports. Now, capriciously, Duterte wants to reverse his very own policy.

There are ways to help out our embattled rice farmers without banning rice imports altogether. In fact, such a ban might only backfire.

Not bad per se

Rice tariffication per se was not bad.

It ended the decades-long monopoly of the National Food Authority (NFA) in the importation of rice, which not only caused perennial shortages and surpluses but also strained our government’s coffers no end. (READ: Will rice tariffication live up to its promise?)

Before, the NFA used to set a quota on the total amount of rice our country can import. Now, just about anyone can import rice as long as they pay the necessary import taxes (also called tariffs).

Indeed, rice tariffication flooded the domestic market with foreign rice and depressed rice prices everywhere. The US Department of Agriculture estimates, in fact, that by end of 2019 the Philippines will likely become the world’s largest rice importer, beating China.

Wipeout

Government policymakers expected – indeed intended – for rice prices to go down with rice tariffication. What surprised them, though, was the extent that this happened.

Figure 1 below shows that by end of October farmgate prices of palay (unhusked rice) dropped by about 24% relative to last year. Meanwhile, retail prices of well-milled and regular-milled rice dropped by 13% and 17%, respectively.

Figure 1.

Although falling rice prices are a boon to rice consumers, they spell lower incomes for millions of rice farmers nationwide – although rice prices did fall at different rates across the regions, as shown in the graphs made by my friend AJ Montesa (Figure 2).

Some stuff on falling palay prices pic.twitter.com/cHtg8DFoT8

— AJ Montesa (@ajamontesa) November 18, 2019

Figure 2.

Proponents of rice tariffication anticipated such hardships on our farmers. That is why they earmarked P10-billion worth of tariff revenues – also called the Rice Competitiveness Enhancement Fund (RCEF) – to help tide over our farmers.

But this may not be enough.

The Philippine Rice Research Institute (PhilRice) recently came up with a study showing that rice farmers across the country have suffered about P61.8 billion in lost incomes.

That’s more than 6 times the size of RCEF, and the Rice Tariffication Act is barely a year old. Such income losses might even balloon to P130 billion come peak harvest season.

Absent “immediate measures to cushion the adverse effects” of rice tariffication, PhilRice suggests lots of rice farmers will be dissuaded from planting rice in the future.

Import ban

Besides RCEF, politicians are mulling a number of other palliative measures, some more helpful than others. Others still might, in fact, do more harm than good.

Duterte’s recent rice import ban is arguably the most knee-jerk proposal of all – one that he seemingly came up with on his own sans the advice of his economic team.

The economic managers are flatly against it. Socioeconomic Planning Secretary Ernesto Pernia said it might bring us “back to where we were last year and the poor will suffer.” 

Their objection is rooted in the fact that limited imports will likely tighten domestic supply, push up rice prices, and stoke inflation just like last year.

But there’s a bigger concern: rice traders.

In the wake of rice tariffication, rice traders are reportedly over-importing and hoarding rice in big warehouses. At the same time, they’re deliberately not buying from our local farmers, thus pressuring farmgate prices downward.

As a result of traders’ anticompetitive behaviors, consumers pay more than they need to while farmers receive less. This artificial scarcity drives the wedge you see in Figure 1 between farmgate palay prices (orange) and commercial rice prices (blue and green).

Duterte’s rice import ban paves the way for higher prices, thus providing an opportunity for rice traders to profit immensely once they release their stocks of hoarded rice into the market.

Unless government significantly erodes the market power of these rice traders – behaving as a cartel – it will be hard to contain the ill effects of rice tariffication.

In place of a rice import ban, a number of people have alternatively suggested rice tariff hikes – also called special safeguard duties – to stem the inflow of rice from abroad.

But such tariff hikes, depending on their size, might only have a similar effect as Duterte’s import ban.

Local purchases

Government is also planning to aggressively purchase more rice from our local farmers.

For their part, the House of Representatives already realigned P3.5 billion in the proposed 2020 budget so the agriculture department could purchase more palay directly from farmers.

On top of this, both houses of Congress also passed a measure that would authorize the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) to buy rice from our farmers worth nearly P7 billion.

Basically this means that in some provinces beneficiaries of the government’s flagship antipoverty program – called Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program or 4Ps – will begin to receive actual sacks of rice in place of P600 worth of monthly rice subsidies.

Although seemingly well-meaning, some economists are frowning upon this move.

Aside from the fact that handing out rice to more than 4 million poor families will surely prove to be a logistical nightmare, the poor are likely better off with cash which gives them more flexibility in buying the goods and services they truly need day-to-day.

Government cannot second-guess the poor and simply assume they just need more rice.   

Capricious policy-making

Right now the economic team must be scratching their heads. Despite their misgivings, Duterte went ahead to unilaterally stop rice importation altogether.

Was rice tariffication a miscalculation by Duterte? Did he not anticipate that rice prices would plummet? Was he ill-advised by the economic team?

At any rate, Duterte’s glaring policy reversal on rice imports only adds to the growing sense of policy uncertainty that has come to be associated with his administration. (READ: How Duterte’s whims and caprices hurt the economy)

Far from being “decisive” – as the economic managers put it – Duterte’s rice policy comes off as exceedingly capricious.

Till when do we put up with this? – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Thanks to AJ Montesa for sharing his graphs on provincial rice price movements. Follow JC on Twitter (@jcpunongbayan) and Usapang Econ (usapangecon.com).

MANILA, Philippines – Nalalapit na ang pagbubukas ng 30th Southeast Asian Games o SEA Games, na gaganapin dito sa Pilipinas, pero tila hindi ang mga palaro ang naging mainit na usapan.

Nagliyab ang isyu ng cauldron o kaldero na sisindihan sa pagsisimula ng SEA Games. Marami ang nagsasabing overpriced ito sa P50 million. (READ: ‘Kaldero ng Diyos’: Netizens shocked by P50-million SEA Games cauldron) 

Sapat ba o sobra ang ginastos sa kawa? Kumusta na rin kaya ang SEA Games mascot na si Pami?

Nagbabalik si Margie ng Rappler social media team para samahan sina Paul, Chito, at Michael sa bagong episode ng Laffler Talk. Alamin din kung alin-alin pang mga aspekto ng SEA Games hosting ang tinipid at ginastusan ng gobyerno.

Mapapakinggan ang episode sa SoundCloud, Spotify, iTunes, o kung saan man kayo nakikinig ng podcasts. – Rappler.com