No additional information on the incident can take away the pain of those who lost loved ones in the Mamasapano encounter. Nor can it diminish the sacrifice that the SAF 44 made in the service of the country. That they were poorly prepared and badly led in a poorly planned and badly executed operation was not their fault.  

Reviving the Mamasapano controversy may benefit an administration battling the backlash from the build-up of high-profile cases of corruption and murder involving government officials. Media will refocus on the Mamasapano controversy, diverting attention from such cases as: the liquidation by the police of Albuera Mayor Rolando Espinosa in his jail cell; the killing of Zenaida Luz in Mindoro by two motorcycle-riding police officers; the Bureau of Immigration bribery; and the abduction/murder by the police of Jee Ick Joo.

While distracting from unanswered questions about these cases, President Rodrigo Duterte was badly advised in adding even more glare to the scrutiny of Mamasapano that will come with the charges filed against former Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief Director General Alan Purisima and former Special Action Force (SAF) Director Getulio Napeñas for their handling of this mission. Hardly the most glorious operation conducted by the PNP and the SAF, Mamasapano is a reminder of their institutional weaknesses. It also threatens to rekindle the animosity that inflamed the relations between the PNP and the Armed Forces of the Philippines.

Command responsibility, which appears to be the premise for pinning responsibility for Mamasapano on former president Benigno Aquino III, is a double-edged blade. In Duterte's own words, “If it’s sauce for the gander, it’s also sauce for the goose.” Like the directive to pursue drug lords, the pursuit of Marwan was a legitimate mission that Aquino did not even have to order; the PNP had been chasing Marwan since 2002. Marwan was the Malaysian terrorist on the FBI's most wanted list.

If Aquino was ultimately responsible for Mamasapano – which he has acknowledged – should not Duterte accept ultimate accountability for the murder by PNP officers of Jee Ick Joo, and any murder subsequently discovered to have been perpetrated by the police?  

That said, it is true that critical aspects of Mamasapano remain unclear, despite a year-long investigation by 9 independent bodies, including those that commanded “boots on the ground”: the PNP, the AFP and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). It is possible that Duterte can prompt answers to two contentious questions: who killed Marwan and what role did the United States play in the operation?

But answers are not likely to come through another investigative body whose members will use their own lenses to look at old evidence; what is needed is not new lenses but new evidence from parties that also had boots on the ground: the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters (BIFF) that broke away from the MILF on the issue of peace negotiations with the government, and, more important, the United States. 

As part of the post-2001 expansion of the global war on terror, the Americans had been supporting Philippine anti-terrorist operations through Operation Enduring Freedom-Philippines. The Joint Special Operations Task Force-Philippines (JSOTF-P) was organized in early 2002 and had been assisting in the hunt for Marwan since 2012. 

According to the PNP, troops of the 84^th SAF had shot Marwan and had cut off his right index finger, which was given to the US Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) to serve as proof of his death. But a Mindanao-based, party-list group called AWAT (Anti-War, Anti-Terror) surfaced in January 2016, and claimed that the killing of Marwan and the amputation of his right index finger had been accomplished, not by the commandos of the 84^th SAF, but by Marwan’s own security aides. AWAT maintained that the 84^th SAF found Marwan already dead and that it was Marwan’s left index finger that they turned over to the FBI. 

Duterte can possibly unearth new information by ordering the exhumation of Marwan’s body. According to the MILF, the government had custody since March 2015, of Ali Tambako, a BIFF leader whose men had buried Marwan. But locating Marwan’s grave, digging up his corpse and counting its fingers would be time-consuming and messy.

With Duterte's new friend in the White House, a simpler approach may be possible. Perhaps, he can request US President Donald Trump to ask the FBI to give him the finger or at least declare whether it belonged to Marwan’s left or right hand. The FBI response would catch either AWAT or 84^th SAF in a lie. 

Confirmation that the FBI received Marwan’s right index finger from the 84^th SAF would disprove the AWAT story. Unfortunately, it would not conclusively credit the SAF 84^th with the killing of Marwan. Taking Marwan’s life and taking his finger could have been done by different parties.

We do not know whether the United States is able and willing to shed light on this point, which could yield more information on the extent of US involvement in Mamasapano. But resolving at least the finger issue would be a good start to testing how much Mr Duterte can count on Mr Trump’s friendship. – Rappler.com

Edilberto C. de Jesus co-authored a chapter on Mamasapano in the book Mindanao: The Long Journey to Peace and Prosperity (Anvil, 2016), edited by Paul D. Hutchcroft.

No field manual or doctrine is expected to survive the quick changes in this uncertain and complicated operational environment. After all, violent conflicts in every maturing democracy are the mark of this modern world. 

In my case, it will be a lot easier to tell you about the errors we made before we got it right, and how bitterly the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) learned from those errors.

We have all types of long-running insurgencies. Name it, we have it – communist insurgency, Muslim rebellion, terrorism.

These conflicts have taken a huge toll on our economy and on the character of the AFP. 

I have seen enough death and sufferings from both ends. When I was a young soldier, we were there to follow the lead of our predecessors. Not one of our superiors bothered to tell us what good that would bring. We were expected to do terrible things, so horrible I cannot tell you specifically the circumstances.

We were made to believe, for example, that “a good Moro is a dead Moro.” Our seniors even had a way of saying that anyone twelve years and older is considered a combatant, and that the women will bear children who will eventually become rebels.

What we did in those years are precisely the reasons why the conflict continues to rage till today. 

My story is not unique: all conflicts are contaminated with atrocities perpetrated by soldiers themselves.

I believe that using your own armed forces without the right frame of mind and direction, and against your own people, is a terrible and criminal mistake.

This is the reason why developed countries have constitutional provisions restraining the participation of their armed forces in local conflict. Australia has Section 51 of their Defence Act. Canada specifies the limitations within its National Defence Act. Britain has the same. US has the Posse Comitatus Law.

Other countries have similar legislations, if only to protect their citizens from misapplied or misused military capability.

What then is the role of the armed forces in a maturing democracy?

Understand that democracy is in some ways problematic. In developing countries, democratic space is open to misuse and abuse. This is also true for the militaries of developing nations.

In our case, the Philippines' sad experience on the misuse of military capability against our own people has generated lasting conflicts which will take generations to heal.

Changing mindsets

We have a disgusting experience of bad counterinsurgency policies. It was only in the last two decades that we recognized – and implemented – more coherent approaches.

The anti-subversion law was abolished and peace negotiation has been the direction.

The military has been in the midst of promoting security sector reform (SSR). We believe that SSR and counterinsurgency must come hand in hand and pursued aggressively.

We learned bitterly that our policies on counter-insurgency were mere knee-jerk reactions to the situation and did not include any exit strategy.

We learned to mimic what the rebels do at the countryside in order to win the hearts of the people.

We learned the necessity of putting in place senior officer supervision at every level of military activity.

We also learned that civil affairs and public affairs must not be seen as a tool to fight insurgency, but rather as a responsibility toward the less fortunate sector of society. 

Our Armed Forces also learned that in order to preserve our gains and keep moving forward, we cannot fully rely on other agencies of government. We have to do it ourselves and hope that other agencies will toe the line lest they be criticized by civil society. We had to get away from the blame syndrome. 

Note also that too much drumbeating about the efficiency of the military has driven some rightist sectors to advocate military takeover. That is definitely not the role of the military in a maturing democracy.

'Whole-of-society' approach

This whole-of-society approach is an offshoot of our 2010 National Security Policy.

The policy practically calls for the participation of the military in assisting poor communities. This calls for extreme interpersonal skills and a lot of adjustments.

We needed to learn very quickly the operations of every government agency. We had to adapt hastily in order to adjust our doctrine. We were, to some extent, doubtful of what we can accomplish within a timetable. But we did not want our plan to end up like its predecessors, which came short of its objectives at termination phases.

We focused on preserving our gains. We made sure that the last soldier understood the end state, the methodology, and his role.

It was prepared in collaboration with all sectors of society. It is an open document representing the consensus of all stakeholders. 

Oplan Bayanihan, the operational plan for this policy, is anchored on our government’s peace framework. Efforts of the armed forces were focused on the more important goal of alleviating the roots and results of poverty. We envisioned it to be  accomplished through genuine concern for the people and implemented in cooperation with all stakeholders. (Editor’s Note: Oplan Bayanihan has since been renamed to Development Support and Security Plan Kapayapaan or DSSP Kapayaan under the Duterte administration)

Beyond the battlefield

This is a paradigm shift.

It allows the armed forces to embrace the broader framework of human security. It gives emphasis on the non-kinetic dimensions of military operations to protect our people against poverty, malnutrition, illiteracy, and other peripheral threats.

The end state calls for capabilities of threat groups reduced to a level that they cannot threaten stability, and that civil authorities are capable of ensuring the safety and well-being of the people.

It has two strategic approaches. The whole-of-nation approach and the people-centered approach.

It is hinged on the participation of stakeholders and less of traditional military operations.

"Whole-of-nation" approach is about creating a shared understanding of security, not just among security forces, but also with the civil society and the communities. The role of the AFP is to unify all these efforts.

The people-centered approach works within the framework of human security. It puts the people’s welfare in the middle of every military activity. It gives primacy to human rights and the rule of law.

In essence, we underwent rapid paradigm shifts in order to show genuine concern for our people. 

What war, what enemy?

Here are some of those paradigm shifts.

• First is that this is not a war; this is law-enforcement and community organizing.
• There is no enemy. Rebels or not, they are all citizens entitled to the same rights as any of us.
• Only when necessary, we shoot to maim and not to kill.
• Our Rules of Engagement: No shooting unless shot at.
• Zero collateral damage. No such thing as acceptable collateral damage to lives and properties.
• Human rights and rule of law are our constraints as well as restraints.
• “Do the right thing” and not confined to “Doing things right”.
• HAIL, which stands for Honesty, Authenticity, Integrity, and Love.
• Threat to use force is supreme over the actual use of force. Strategic significance of any military operation is not proportional to the size of troops involved.
• The best closure to any insurgency is through a peaceful settlement.

But many times politics comes in the way. Politicians use the issue for grandstanding. Then there goes the competition for resources.

Beyond AFP's control

We know that insurgency is a product of underdevelopment. Insurgency aggravates the inability of government to administer and alleviate an already miserable condition. And this leads to other problems on governance.

These problems make it difficult to reach a consensus toward a coherent national security policy.

Then we can add military adventurism where some not-very intelligent officers believe they can do better than the civilian bureaucrats in running the government.

The essence of a maturing democracy is among the principles we advocate among our soldiers and officers alike. This can be broken down into four:

First is a peaceful transition of power through election.

Without military presence, rogue politicians harass the voters or rig election results. Private armed groups proliferate, acting as goons for corrupt politicians.

For a time, the AFP itself was accused of involvement in rigging election results. We considered those days as the darkest hour for our armed forces.

What we are certain of, is that we have substantially reduced election violence and election fraud. 

Second is a strong middle class. Unlike the more advanced societies, developing nations have a relatively small percentage of population that's considered middle class.

Why the middle class? These are the people who value justice, fairness, and predictability. These are the people who pay a huge portion of their income to taxes. They are the first affected by recession or price increases. They earn enough for food, shelter, clothing, and can afford to send their children to school. These are the people who keep the economy moving forward.

The contribution therefore of security and the military is to establish a secure environment good for the economy and for the rising middle class.

Of course we also need to take care of the poor. We want all of them to rise to the middle class level through education, health care, livelihood, and other opportunities. Democracy and decency, after all, are meaningless to an empty stomach.

Third is a functioning civil society. Civil society is usually represented by the middle class. These are the people who for love of justice and fairness allocate spare time to criticize the government and to be heard.

The problem however in maturing democracies, is that civil society is normally represented by leftist groups that criticize every government policy – leftists who hate the rich and the military.

Our job therefore is to ensure that no issues are thrown at the security forces and not to give any reason for civil society to discredit the military.

When we scrutinized the issues or so-called propaganda by the leftists, we discovered that all are valid despite some exaggerations. Their common issues against our military are: forced disappearances, militarization, and other human rights violations.

We knew that only after addressing these issues can we reestablish credibility. A policy was issued to engage these left-of-center groups. We invited them for discussions and forum. Our civil affairs people even had tours and team-building activities with them. The results were fascinating. We managed to dispel their misconception that the military serves as the tool of the oligarchs in oppressing the poor. We made them understand that majority of our soldiers also come from the same underprivileged class.

Fourth is economic development. Without economic development, it will be difficult to promote democracy. We believe that economic development or lack of it can awaken the people.

Challenges of a global insurgency

Today, we are faced with bigger challenges.

We must accept that we are faced with a global insurgency. Anti-globalization forces will act alone or in unison with other groups to disrupt our democratic ideals. Global insurgency shall persist for generations. 

An insurgency without a center of gravity. An asymmetric conflict without a clear hierarchy of forces which we can address. A conflict which will not be over with one campaign plan. A conflict full of violence that will take many more innocent lives. A conflict which shall drive us to feel helpless in protecting the weak and the innocent.

In this kind of confrontation, our only effective weapon is our sincerity and empathy, both to the victims or would-be victims and to the insurgents as well. 

Solutions will vary from village to village. We will find those solutions as we recognize their sufferings, as we feel what they feel. One victim of insurgency is one citizen we failed to protect.

You don’t go to Afghanistan or Iraq or elsewhere simply because you were told to. You go there to risk life and limb not for your career, not for your paycheck, and certainly not for bragging rights. 

We risk our lives for other people whom we have never met, all in the name of democracy. We chose the gun as an instrument to make this world a better place. That gun is a symbol of both responsibility and authority. 

We are prepared to shoot or kill in self-defense or in defense of our comrades, and of any innocent stranger.

For every terrorist or insurgent we kill, two more of his brothers will come as replacements. The fewer times we kill, the fewer adversaries we would have.

We shall fight any threat to democracy, with our hearts ahead of our guns. – Rappler.com

(These are excerpts from a speech delivered by retired army Lieutenant General Gaudencio Pangilinan Jr at the Australian Command and Staff College in Canberra in November 2015. The author served as counter-intelligence chief; commander of the AFP civil relations service; deputy chief of staff for operations; and commander of the AFP Northern Luzon Command, among others. We are publishing this with his permission and due to the timeliness of the points raised here.)

Whenever I invite foreigners to the Philippines, most of them would ask me the same question: "Is it safe there?" I would always laugh at their worrisome question and mention to them that they are not the only reluctant visitors I have encountered. I would constantly assure them that it is the work of exaggerated media reporting, and though security might not be good, it is not the worst also. And then here goes the latest news that another Korean national was murdered and this time around, the case shockingly and evidently involved police officers.

When you ask Koreans who love living in the Philippines about what made them eventually stay here, a lot of them, including yours truly, will reply that it is mainly due to the people: the loving, caring, hospitable, and beautiful Filipinos. They are one of the major reasons why many Koreans feel blessed living in the country.

Senior Koreans will also still reminisce and keep returning, thanks to the Filipinos who helped Korea in its trying times, especially during and after the Korean War. Many Filipinos may not be aware of it, but there is plenty of evidence in Korean history that the Philippines was positively viewed as a model economy to follow, and that Korea received so much aid from the Philippine government to rebuild the nation after the war.

In one of the TV documentaries that I watched about 10 years ago, one Korean back home described the Philippines as "El Dorado," as if it were the land of gold where every good opportunity can be found. After going through the Asian financial crisis, many clueless Koreans tried their luck abroad and the Philippines was one of the most sought-after countries for them. It's relatively near, the weather is mild, the people speak English – which is the best condition to raise their children – and the standard of living seems more manageable than in Korea.

Many Koreans flocked to the country starting the late 90s and it has been a steady, fast growth for the Korean community in the Philippines since. Now, Korean citizens are visible in nearly every corner of the archipelago. Koreans are one of the top foreign visitors to the Philippines and are also among the top in terms of making long-term investments in the country. The government's strategic policy to invite retirees was also attractive enough to turn the Korean exodus into a reality.

The murky, risky side

But this El Dorado did not just bring happiness; it also showed the murky and risky side of life. If you count the number of Korean media reports about the Philippines and what most are about, as a Filipino, you may be pretty surprised and dismayed.

In most news reports in Korea, the Philippines is reported as the place with the biggest number of Koreans missing, kidnapped, and killed. Every few months, it is common to hear cases of serious crimes. In some of these cases, however, fellow Korean citizens are implicated. They are usually accused of plotting murder, sometimes with local accomplices. This is the reason why Koreans would jokingly say that fellow Koreans are the worst breed of people you should be aware of when heading abroad.

However, it should be noted that there are also serious incidents where Korean residents or tourists are victimized by the locals. The number of Korean murder cases continues to increase each year.

So, is the recent kidnap-slay case simply just one of them? Was businessman Jee Ick Joo just unfortunate to be victimized? There must be a thorough probe into how he was found by his alleged kidnappers – the cops – and why he was killed and cremated. Was it simply just for the ransom?

Is it safe to be in the Philippines?

Going back to the earlier question: Is it safe to be in the Philippines? Yes or no? I am pretty much assuming what you may say. You may think it is not really safe for residents here.

It saddens me so much whenever I hear friends here say that the country does not provide a complete sense of security. There is a joke that there is no backpack carried on the back in the Philippines because everyone cuddles their bag in front for fear of getting robbed. The fact that travelers also went through all the fuss of wrapping their luggage during the "laglag bala" days is not even funny.

It is a basic right for citizens and a basic duty of the government to provide a safe and sound society. Being from abroad, I often restrain myself from speaking out because I do not want to offend anyone here. But as I see endless crimes taking away locals' as well as fellow Koreans' lives, it feels unbearable and scary at the same time, because we don't know who the next victims would be.

The Duterte administration has intensified its war against drugs. Some are wary because of the ruthless and unjust killings in the process. Only if it is done right, and only if the national police do honest-to-goodness jobs, can it be a wonderful system to prove that the current administration's decision was tough, yet fruitful. But what happens when law enforcers are the ones accused of taking money in exchange for a human being's life?

The Korean government is reportedly taking action to establish a system so Korean residents in the Philippines will not be scammed by fake arrest warrants and they will not be victimized by the "TokHang for ransom" modus. It was also said that the embassy will assist Korean citizens and that Korean police officers sent to the Philippines will coordinate with the PNP.

The Korean government, perhaps due to its own political scandal, is not protesting enough diplomatically, and has thus been criticized by its citizens. Surely, the Korean government should work hard to protect its citizens overseas, but it is also hoped that the Philippine government takes Jee's murder case seriously and ensures security for other Koreans in the Philippines. We also need protection just like locals here in the country. – Rappler.com

Kyungmin Bae is a senior lecturer of the Department of Linguistics and a research fellow of the Korea Research Center at the University of the Philippines-Diliman.

Here's the start to a nice story: you are fresh out of 5 years of medical school – two of which were spent holed up in a hospital with a host of seniors double-checking everything you do. A few months of board review, drowning in the kind of cross-correlated information overload that makes computers shut down and cry, you are off to a municipality of anywhere from 4,000 to 20,000 people after sitting through a whirlwind of PowerPoint presentations you have no way of relating to yet.

You've got clothes in your bag and your stethoscope, and extremities that have been numbed by the 4 hours of bus travel and the 3 hours of boat travel it takes to reach your destination. It's your first job, and you're the only doctor in the town – sometimes, the only doctor on the island. Overnight, the lives of thousands of people have become your responsibility, from birth to death, to the hopefully-long period of time between the two.

You eat and read and work and sleep inside your office: the municipality's Rural Health Unit, an illustration of your life for the next two years.

Doctors don't really have days off, especially not if the next doctor is two hours away via roads that become impassable when it rains. No matter the time of the day, when there's a motorcycle crash, or stroke, or a woman going into labor, or a group of first graders with food poisoning, and whatever other urgent to semi-urgent medical concern, you have to be there.

When there's a natural disaster approaching and people are going to be stuck in cramped evacuation centers – and training and good sense tell you fever, cough, and diarrhea could spread – you have to be there. Even if it's raining so hard you can barely see 6 inches in front of your face and you need to borrow a truck to get to the barangays hit hardest by flooding.

When your regional or provincial office – your de facto superiors – call for case reports and program reviews to be held 6 hours away from your municipality, you have to be there. When your mayor calls to talk about your budget or the police call to ask for a medical assessment of an assault victim, you have to be there, too.

You're going to have a woman wake you up at 3 in the morning. She has been in labor for a few hours and she had gone to a hilot but the baby is breech and the hilot couldn't deliver it – and you have no time and space to panic about how you are not exactly equipped to deliver a breech baby, either. You don't have an operating room, and even if you did you wouldn't know how to perform a caesarian section. You want to refer her to an obstetrician, but there aren't any on the island.

You want to refer her to a hospital, but the nearest hospital on the island is hours away and your ambulance needs to be pushed by 3 men before it can start. You want her to have been prepared for the breech delivery, only she didn't have the money to go to the mainland for an ultrasound, so you're going to decide to deliver the baby then and there, with almost no emergency supplies, trusting in the skills of your midwife.

You're going to have a woman show up in the immediate aftermath of a typhoon, in labor, with no prenatal checkups and no ultrasound, with darkly-stained fluid on your initial examination. You want a suction machine and an intubation kit to keep the baby's airway secure in case he or she has swallowed fluid, but all you have is a pipette. You deliver the baby and suck the fluid out of the baby's nose and mouth as best as you can. When the baby cries, it's going to be the best cry you've ever heard. 

Of course, that's when the next patient in labor arrives and you need to get your first patient out of the bed and all your instruments cleaned and sterilized, because the Philippines has better things to spend its money on than a second set of obstetric equipment. She gives birth normally, and you want to be relieved, but afterwards you notice that she's still bleeding copiously and that her uterus is soft. This will be aggravated by the fact that you don't have the medicine you need and that your ambulance still needs to be pushed to start.

You call every specialist in your phonebook, not knowing if you want a complete set of pharmaceuticals, an emergency transport vehicle that actually works in an emergency, a break, or all of the above.

You are going to visit barangays that can only be reached when the rain hasn't made the dirt roads impassable. You will see old men with tuberculosis who haven't been treated and diagnosed for lack of ability to travel, or those who lack the resources to pay for the motorcycle trip to your clinic. You're going to do your best to convince them to try anyway, wondering about their wives and kids, and wondering what could have been done had they been seen earlier.

You are going to see malnourished kids raised by mothers barely out of childhood themselves who figured they had no better options. You'll want to sit down in front of one of the classrooms of the local high school and talk about reproductive health and also all the other things they can do with their lives, wondering if you're getting to their realities of limited educational opportunities and limited work opportunities. You would really want to split yourself into two or maybe 10, just so you can do more.

You are going to be tired from navigating through the mountains of paperwork that make up every semi-functional bureaucracy. You will get worn down from talking about diseases to all the sniffly kids and hypertensive adults that walk into your clinic in ways that make sense to them.

Ultimately, you will get tired from wanting several million unobtainable things – paved roads, more midwives and nurses and doctors for the communities that need them, an ultrasound machine that isn't 4 hours and P300 away, jobs that pay people the living wages they need to eat the things that will keep them from malnutrition or hypertension, a toilet in every household, an ambulance that works, a break.

You're going to remember all the people who told you that public health was a disheartening job, and you're going to wonder why you didn't listen to them.

Here's the reality behind that nice story: the whole "doctor to the barrio" thing is both a lovely experience to have and a necessity for your municipality, but it is also a tiny corner of the picture we need to look at, when it comes to health care. The actual practice of seeing patients is the end-product of a series of programs and policies on social services, health care, education, and livelihood programs and policies that have failed to give most Filipinos the quality of life the Bill of Rights, at least, think they should have, and that have failed the poor, the marginalized, and those living in geographically isolated and disadvantaged areas the most.

And it's easy to advocate for helping one patient at a time, but it's less easy when you realize that the patients who do end up making it to your door are the lucky ones. It's less easy to be patient about reforms and the time it takes to enact change when you know that people die and that people will continue to die from completely preventable reasons for as long as our health system remains the same.

People will die from preventable diseases for as long as health professionals leave for other countries while 7 out of 10 Filipinos still die without having seen a doctor, for as long as budgets for government hospitals keep getting slashed despite the perennial pictures of emergency rooms overflowing with patients, for as long as we see no radical changes not only in health but also in the social and economic factors that affect it. These will continue from the highest mountains, to the most remote islands, across the choppiest seas. – Rappler.com 

Dr. Jillian Francise Lee and Dr. Christian James Nazareth are members of the Doctors to the Barrios (DTTB) Batch HIMAGSIK. Lee is currently assigned to Tubajon, Dinagat Islands, while Nazareth is deployed to San Isidro, Surigao del Norte. They will both be stationed in their areas of assignment for a minimum of two years. You may email them at jillianfrancise@gmail.com and cj.nazareth@yahoo.com. 

A few days ago news about the peso's diminished purchasing power circulated widely in social networks.

The Association of Labor Unions (ALU) recently pointed out that as of December 2016 the value of the peso dropped to 67 centavos, the "lowest in 8 years." (The actual figure for 2016 was 69 centavos.)

Because of this, the highest minimum wage of P491 supposedly lost a staggering P127 in terms of purchasing power. This implies more hardships for the millions of minimum wage earners who already struggle to make both ends meet daily.

In response to this news, some netizens took the peso's lower purchasing power as a sign of worsening economic conditions, and even blamed it on the Duterte government. Others said that if President Rodrigo Duterte was not at the helm, "the value of the peso would have been much lower."

In this article I'd like to clarify a number of things about the purchasing power of the peso. In particular, there were fundamental omissions made in the reports that need to be brought to light.

Purchasing power of the peso

First, let's establish what the "purchasing power of the peso" means.

Consider a person called Maxine who has P100 in cash. Suppose Maxine lives in an economy which produces only ice cream. If a scoop of ice cream sells for P25, then Maxine can buy 4 ice creams at most. But if the price of ice cream rises to P50 each, then Maxine can buy only 2 ice creams at most.

Hence, the purchasing power of Maxine's P100 halved when the price of ice creams doubled. Generally, higher cost of living erodes the purchasing power of the peso. These concepts are really two sides of the same coin.

But comparing these concepts over time is not straightforward: comparisons make sense only when we use a so-called "reference year."

Figure 1 below shows the cost of living in the Philippines over time. Whereas prices were at P100 in 2006, prices were at P144 in 2016. This simply means that prices in 2016 were 44% higher relative to prices in 2006 (the reference year used in many government statistics).

In the same manner, it only makes sense to compare the purchasing power of the peso over time using a reference year.

Figure 2 below shows the purchasing power of the peso using 2006 as the reference year. If you had one peso in 2006, it would buy you only 69 cents worth of goods and services by 2016 because prices rose in the decade between them. In other words, your peso in 2016 was worth 69 cents relative to its value in 2006.

Sorting out the facts

Using these basic ideas, let's try to assess the claims made in the controversial news item.

First, the report made no mention whatsoever of the all-important 2006 reference year. Your peso is not worth 69 cents today. Instead, it was your peso back in 2006 that's worth 69 cents today. There's a subtle but crucial difference between these two statements.

In fact, the peso was worth 69 cents many times before. For example, back in 2008 the peso was also worth 69 cents relative to the year 2000. In 2000, the peso was worth 66 cents relative to the year 1994.

This highlights the fact that comparing the purchasing power of the peso makes sense only when we compare it to a reference year.

Second, perhaps a more important concern than the peso's purchasing power is how fast prices are going up. If prices are going up too fast compared to people's incomes, then it can spell more hardship for Filipinos.

Thankfully, prices have decelerated in recent decades. Figure 3 shows that the annual inflation rate has gone down markedly since the 1990s. Whereas prices rose annually by 6% to 10% in the 1990s, prices rose by just 1.77% as of December 2016.

Third, it was claimed in the reports that workers' minimum wages have stagnated compared to the rising cost of living.

But Figure 4 shows that the highest minimum wage has, in fact, been able to keep up with the cost of living, and even outpaced it. From 2006 to 2016 the cost of living rose by around 33%. But at the same time the minimum wage increased by 40%. Hence, it's quite a stretch to say that minimum wages have been largely stagnant relative to the cost of living.

With respect to the minimum wage, I think there are two larger issues at play. First, how are minimum wages determined in the first place, and are they sufficient to meet the needs of the average worker's family?

Second – and more importantly – how do we find ways to employ Filipinos in jobs that pay well above the minimum wage? Here, productivity is key: workers' earnings depend largely on their ability to get high-paying jobs in high-productivity sectors. For this we need to promote entrepreneurship, attract investments, and create an environment conducive for doing business.

Conclusion: It's all relative

All in all, fears about your peso's diminished value are overblown. Your peso was already worth 69 cents back in history, and it will be worth 69 cents again 50, 100, or 200 years from now. It all depends on the reference year you choose.

Perhaps what's more troubling is the continuing need to promote more economic and financial literacy among Filipinos. We interact in the economy daily, yet we sometimes feel we know little about it. A deeper understanding of the economy's workings – including the precise meaning of "purchasing power of the peso" – wouldn't go amiss. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD student and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. His views do not necessarily reflect the views of his affiliations.

The murder of South Korean business executive Jee Ick Joo in October last year right in the seat of the Philippine National Police  (PNP) is, so far, the most brazen atrocity committed by the police under the Duterte administration.

It is this death, not the killing of over 7,000 Filipinos in the government's 6-month war on drugs, that trigerred a key presidential decision Sunday night, January 29: the abolition of all PNP anti-illegal drug units and a stop to anti-illegal drug operations in the police force.

Essentially, President Rodrigo Duterte, who has tapped the PNP as the lead agency in his war on drugs, belatedly realized that the police force  – a corrupt, abusive one, he said– was not up to the task.

Jee Ick Joo was kidnapped by policemen – in the guise of conducting a legitimate operation in the name of the war on drugs – and strangled to death in Camp Crame. The police also demanded P5-million ransom from the wife of the victim.

Two versions of the murder are competing for the public’s attention, both involving policemen who used to be assigned to the PNP Anti-Illegal Drugs Group: SPO3 Ricky Sta. Isabel and his superior, Superintendent Rafael Dumlao.

In a late-night press conference on Sunday, before any conclusive findings from any agency, the President tagged Dumlao as the mastermind and ordered the dismantling of the PNP's Anti-Illegal Drugs Group.

But he absolved the man who should have disciplined these cops in the first place: PNP chief Ronald dela Rosa. What good will it do to let go of the PNP chief, he asked. "If there are still scalawags and criminals inside Crame, they will continue with or without Bato."

Whoever committed the crime, the inescapable fact is that the men of the PNP are at the center of this wrongdoing. Dela Rosa himself admitted, "Crime is happening within our ranks."

This state of affairs is unacceptable – and Dela Rosa's order to stop the PNP's anti-illegal drug activities is not sufficient to address past wrongdoing. 

Lest we forget, two things have led to the breakdown in the PNP – on top of its inherent organizational weaknesses:

• President Duterte has unleashed a culture of impunity in his centerpiece war-on-drugs program. 
• De la Rosa’s leadership has inordinately focused on his visibility and self-promotion rather than keeping a tight rein on the police force.

Remember Espinosa

The case of Ick Joo is not the first. The killing of Mayor Rolando Espinosa in his detention cell November last year opened the floodgates as the President himself protected the cops involved in the rubout.

For his part, De la Rosa set his sights on making a name for himself, an easy task considering his voluble personality that endears him to the public. This, accompanied by his life-size cutout photographs standing in various public places announcing police assistance as well as mascots and masks.

Essentially, he seemed to equate his leadership with his personality rather than with the institution badly in need of reforms. The most telling indication was when he cried at a Senate hearing on the killing of Espinosa saying he no longer knew whom to trust.

In the Korean’s murder, De la Rosa wasn’t on top of the situation, either. He ordered a manhunt for Sta. Isabel who, all the while, was in Camp Crame.

All this has pushed our country down in an international ranking on the rule of law, as cited by Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno. The Philippines descended to 70 from 51 for 2016.

The brittle crust of duty and discipline in the PNP has now broken, the leadership collapsing under a wave of impunity that has engulfed the police force.

And the public deserves more than a pledge of "cleansing" in its ranks. – Rappler.com

READ: Part 1: PNP as the people's oppressors

As coercive apparatuses of a particular political and socio-economic system, police and military forces are the only agencies legally permitted to use violence and force in preventing citizens from violating that system’s laws and regulations.

With that power comes great responsibility as well as immense potential for abuse. The challenge then is for policemen and soldiers to develop the extraordinary fortitude and integrity to remain upright.

This challenge is made extremely difficult in a political system dominated by foreign and elite interests, and where corruption and patronage is the name of the game. The police, as the servants and protectors of that flawed system, will necessarily end up just as rotten as the corrupt and abusive politicians and operators that run it.

In the first part of this two-part series, we saw how after more than a century of serving colonial masters, local dynasties and oligarchs, and after experiencing absolute power under martial law, today’s Philippine National Police (PNP) has become hopelessly mercenary and criminal. It has developed its own internal mechanisms to make use of the oppressive and corrupt systems of governance to keep its own masters in power and enrich its own set of elites – officers coming almost entirely from the Philippine Military Academy (PMA).

Far from its motto “To serve and protect,” the PNP has become a tool to  oppress our own people and repress their social and democratic movements. From gunrunning, drug trafficking, kidnap for ransom, prostitution rings, protection rackets to illegal gambling operations, it’s like SM – they’ve got it all.

Abolition as an option

Of late, there have been efforts to strengthen the PNP’s internal checks and balances, with Senator Panfilo Lacson suggesting that PNP Director General Ronald “Bato” de la Rosa handpick 100 of his most trusted men to cleanse the ranks. It’s not that these things have not been tried in the past. It’s just that they eventually fail. (READ: Dela Rosa orders PNP: Stop war on drugs)

The most radical suggestion I’ve heard to reform the PNP is to fire all officers from senior superintendent up to director general. But that would still fail to address the deep-seated, systemic problems of the police force and will only give rise to a new breed of corrupt officials.

Sometimes, the only way to fix a problem is to get rid of it.

Abolishing the PNP will mean firing everyone, from General Bato to the lowliest PO1 de la Cruz. This is the ultimate strategy to dismantle the deeply entrenched mafia and corrupt power structures in the PNP. 

This will also mean creating a new police force from the ground up, with new policies, structures and mechanisms to prevent the new police from getting to where it is now. 

This new police agency will have to steer clear of the PNP’s long history and tradition as a mercenary military and para-military institution. It should be truly civilian in character, community-centered in its function, professional and fully transparent and accountable to the public in its operations.

The following conditions would probably be crucial in creating such an agency: 

• That no graduate of the Philippine Military Academy should be allowed to hold a position. This effectively breaks the PMA mafia that has lorded it over the PNP for decades. Seniority and rank should not be a factor in the selection of appointments to the new police force. Members of the defunct PNP should be required to undergo a stringent performance review, reorientation and retraining before being accepted to the new agency. 
• That PNP elements involved in criminal activities and human rights violations should be seriously prosecuted, punished and prohibited from joining the new agency. 
• That full power and accountability over the police should be given to the local government units, with the Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) exercising effective oversight. The selection of provincial police directors should be transparent and undergo a process of public scrutiny and selection. 
• The police force should be somehow organically meshed with the local baranggay peace and order machineries to ensure quick and seamless police response at the most basic levels. The top-heavy structure of the police force be turned on its head, with emphasis on community-based and community-centered operations;
• Respect for human rights should be at the core of police education and training. This will serve as the internal check on police brutality, abuse and impunity.
• The police internal affairs mechanism should be reoriented as a watchdog type agency in coordination with the Office of the Ombudsman, the Commission on Human Rights (CHR), and human rights and anti-crime groups. Said office should be headed by credible human rights advocates. 
• The Philippine National Police Academy (PNPA) should be liberated from its militarist mindset and become more of a civilian institution producing professional law enforcement officers. Adequate training, facilities and resources be put in place to upgrade and professionalize the police force in all levels.
• That the salaries and benefits of police officers be increased to attract better personnel, improve morale and reduce corrupt practices. 

As with most sweeping reorganizations, the challenge is how to accomplish this in the swiftest but least disruptive manner. This is a matter probably best left to organizational experts.

Abolition in the context of social reforms

Of course, whatever benefits can be had from the abolition of the PNP and the establishment of a new police force can be easily undermined or squandered by the very same corrupt politicians, power brokers and criminal protectors that have benefitted from the old system. 

Thus, the PNP’s abolition should be done in the context of more comprehensive reforms to democratize the country’s political structure and culture as well as institutionalize mechanisms for transparency and accountability. This would include electoral reforms, a strong law protecting whistleblowers, a freedom of information act covering all branches of government, the abolition or reduction of political dynasties, and a radical cleansing of the judicial system, among others. Without these, a newly formed police force will surely succumb to the old ways.

There are two opportunities in the horizon for such sweeping changes – the proposed shift to a federal system of government proposed by Pres. Rodrigo Duterte, and the ongoing negotiations between the government and the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP) for a comprehensive agreement on political and constitutional reforms. Taken jointly or separately, these opportunities for political reform can be the avenue for the police force’s much needed overhaul.

It goes without saying that the public, particularly the progressive social movements, will play a crucial in this project as time and time again, we have seen how the traditional wielders of power have hijacked previous efforts to reform the system. – Rappler.com

(Teddy Casiño served as the partylist representative of Bayan Muna for 3 terms, from 2004-2013. Prior to his stint in Congress, he was secretary-general of the Bagong Alyansang Makabayan and was a columnist for BusinessWorld. He earned his degree in sociology from the University of the Philippines at Los Baños in 1993.)

President Donald Trump’s executive order banning people from seven predominantly Muslim countries from entering the United States even if they are already permanent residents has nothing to do with national security. Visa holders, refugees, and US permanent residents from these countries are already the people most tightly vetted by US immigration and intelligence authorities, so it is hard to understand how Trump’s move will bring added security.

What this is all about is not national security but immigration. It is the opening salvo of Trump’s determined effort to make religion a criterion for becoming part of American society. Whenever he pronounced the three words “radical Islamic terrorist” during his presidential campaign, he always put the stress on the second word, “Islamic,” and continually attacked former President Obama’s refusal to dignify his demagogic effort to promote the idea that Islam promotes terrorism..  

Trump’s is a politics of exclusion, and immigration policy is his most direct method of carrying this out. 

He is building a wall to keep out Mexican workers, but let’s face it, Mexican for him and his followers does not only refer to Mexicans but to all Latinos. When he attacks China for what he considers unfair trading practices, he’s not just talking about trade. China is also a codeword for the stereotypical crafty Asian taking advantage of the American people. Even children get it, as Asian American youngsters taunted by their peers at school would testify. 

Trump’s immigration policy, security policy, and trade policy are all intertwined, and the lynchpin of the package is fear of the other, that is fear of those who are non-White and non-Christian. He is both a creator and a creature of the new nativist movement that draws deep from the wellsprings of American prejudices about Latinos, Asians, Blacks, and Muslims. It is a movement fed by what he and his followers regard as a cataclysmic event: that in a few more years, white Americans will no longer be the majority of the population.

Brace for more

Trump will issue more executive orders on immigration and he is sure to push for comprehensive immigration legislation. But even if these fail or are delayed, it must be stressed that current immigration procedures and legislation already provide him with a lot of power to practice his exclusionary politics. 

Immigration policy and processes are extraordinarily susceptible to subjective assessments and informal rules whatever the book says. Anyone who has applied for a visa to go the United States knows that you are at the mercy of your interviewer and prey to his or her quirks, biases, and moods. Everyone takes it for granted that there are quotas for different categories of people, even when those quotas are not officially or formally set. 

Race, class, and ethnicity are not supposed to matter in assessing one’s qualifications to migrate to the United States, but everyone knows that at the top of the preferred migrants or visitors are those from the Anglosphere, and that if you are non-white and not from the elite, you are way down the list of possible entrants, unless you have a skill assessed as valuable to the US economic machine. 

And Trump wants to take away even that channel with his plan to eliminate the H1B visa that allows people with specialty occupations to work in the US.  Already highly discretionary in practice, immigration procedures will become even more discretionary under Trump.

How about the Philippines?

The Philippines is not on the list of seven countries. Yet. We must remember that during his presidential campaign, Trump identified the Philippines as a haven for terrorists and among the priority countries that he would put on a blacklist. 

But even without the Philippines being on that list, you can bet that anybody with a Muslim name applying to enter the US will find it much harder to enter the America than one with a Christian name. With Trump’s overt anti-Muslim stance fortifying the anti-Muslim prejudices of many in the US immigration bureaucracy, it is likely that if you are a young Muslim male from Mindanao, you would be pigeonholed by your interviewer as a potential security threat unless you can prove otherwise.

And, as some have found, even if you do get a visa, you are not guaranteed entry: you can be put into what is called secondary screening and depending on the subjective judgment of your interviewer, you may be refused entry at the airport.

There are thousands of Filipino Muslims who live in the US and they and their relatives go back and forth between the two countries. Their right to travel faces severe curtailment if the new immigration regime goes forward.

This is why instead of saying the Philippine government will respect Trump’s recent order, Malacañang should speak out publicly against it, in order to blunt the momentum of an exclusionary regime that will eventually affect its citizens. Filipino Muslims deserve no less from their government. – Rappler.com

(Walden Bello was chairman of the House of Representatives Committee on Overseas Workers from 2010 to 2015. He is currently a senior research fellow at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies of Kyoto University. He has been put into secondary screening by US immigration officials at most times that he has entered the United States owing to his record of arrests in the US while opposing the Marcos dictatorship in the 1970s and 1980s.) 

Nothing can be more consoling than the news that the police’s war on drugs has been called off. With 7,000 lives claimed by it in just the last seven months, the war has been such a moral scandal we have become desperately disposed to be consoled by any positive signal.

That Rodrigo Duterte is stepping back from his war, or stepping back from anything at all, is definitely out of character for a man who assumed the leadership of this nation, and has carried on until now, on an autocratic and aetheistic rhetoric: "No one tells me . . . not even God." So abrupt has been his turnaround one is tempted to put it down to epiphany.

Only last week, at a Senate hearing on the kidnapping and murder of South Korean business executive Jee Ick Joo, for which policemen are being held to account, Senator Risa Hontiveros precisely suggested a suspension of the anti-drug campaign, at least until the police had cleansed their ranks. But General Ronald de la Rosa, the police chief, would hear none of it.

Jee, the number two Philippine boss at Hanjin, the South Korean shipbuilders, was kidnapped on the mistaken or made-up accusation, in the end profitably maintained, that he was dealing in drugs. He was taken to the national police headquarters, killed there – by strangling – on the same day, and cremated the next day. Still, his wife was fooled into paying ransom for an already dead husband.

De la Rosa tried to argue at the hearing that Jee's was an isolated case, in effect minimizing it as a small blot in the big picture of police business – law and order. But not really; reports abound of mistaken and collateral killings, not to mention summary ones, and not a few have been aired in the media. In fact, the credibility of suspicions of summary executions, more familiar as "extrajudicial killings", tends to be validated in surveys – nine of 10 respondents protest against them.

Test for Duterte

Right at the hearing, the presiding senator, Panfilo Lacson, a former police chief himself, presented a videotape of an actual case of police roguery. No one dies in it, but it's a graphic illustration of the form of malpractice the police are widely suspected of – planting evidence and false arrest.

The video shows police (out of uniform, but taken on Lacson's word) raiding an office and herding employees away from their work cubicles to allow, unwitnessed, the planting of packets of illegal drugs. The screening, which capped the proceedings, went unquestioned by De la Rosa or any of the police officers with him.

I don't know that any of that has had to do with Duterte relenting. I didn't think he could be pried off his war; it was on it that he had after all pinned his hopes for no less than national redemption. That's why he vowed to protect his police; he needed them to fight his war fully motivated, their own wrongdoing if possible overlooked. That's why he wanted Congress to tinker with the Constitution and relax its provisions governing the president's power to declare martial law; he wanted the scourge of drugs equated with rebellion as a justification for the emergency, and he also wanted the legislative and judicial checks on it done away with.

Suddenly, last Sunday night, he gave the order to disband the Anti-Illegal Drugs Group he had formed to fight his war. And de la Rosa tells us now what that means: all anti-drug operations stop to allow the police to "focus [on] internal cleansing." 

Now comes the test of Duterte's word.– Rappler.com

President Duterte’s decision to suspend the drug war, though very much belated, is welcome.

The exact terms of his order remain unclear as of this writing, but it nevertheless signals, at the very least, some openness on the part of the administration that can create space for renewed conversation about how we deal with our country’s problem. How do we move foward from this juncture? 

First of all, we must not forget the victims of extrajudicial killings. Their blood calls for justice and until the perpetrators – vigilantes or otherwise – are called to account, we must refuse to move on from the carnage. As Agnes Callamard, UN Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions, said, the “pause” in the drug war “must include investigation of all unlawful death, accountability, reparation.” 

The government should show openness to investigation if it is indeed innocent of allegations that it is behind the killings. When it is in the public interest, the Senate and the Congress can facilitate the ferreting out of the truth through the conduct of impartial inquiries. For their part, the judiciary should be ready to fulfill its duty of being an independent arbiter – and their recent issuance of a ‘writ of amparo’ to EJK victims is a welcome sign. 

Second, we must make sure that the police is serious in cleaning up their ranks. Every Filipino wants a police force that will truly live up to its “serve and protect” motto. But if, as Duterte himself says, “40% of police are corrupt” and that “our enemies here are policemen who are criminals,” then a major overhaul is in order – one that will end the culture of impunity that has made many supposed law enforcers some of the most notorious lawbreakers in our land. 

As the sordid kidnap-slay of Jee Ick-joo shows, what is at stake is not just the credibility of our police, but of country itself. Moreover, a police that is “rotten to the core” is undermined not just in dealing with the drug problem, but in all other matters of law enforcement. General Bato dela Rosa has vowed "drastic moves” to cleanse the PNP to be his final legacy as its soon-to-retire chief, and we can only hope that these efforts will truly translate to tangible results. 

Third, now is the time to push for a comprehensive policy on dealing with the drug problem. Clearly, the “war on drugs” – that is, a punitive approach to drug users and pushers – did not work, and Duterte himself acknowledged that his boast of eliminating drugs and crime in six months was just campaign humbug. In its place, we need a framework that considers multiple approaches, each tailored to specific populations. Rehabilitation should be made freely available to drug dependents, and community-based interventions using a harm reduction approach should be piloted and considered for many others, including young people. The DOH is pivotal in dealing with what its secretary, Dr. Paulyn Ubial, has rightfully called a “mental health problem.”

Change perceptions

But efforts to go after drug lords, traffickers, and their patrons (i.e. the “narco-politicians”) should also continue. Even the UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) acknowledges that “supply reduction” is an important component in a comprehensive approach to drugs. The Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA) should continue to go after shabu (methamphetamine) labs, and be given inter-agency support to go after drug supply that comes from other countries. In this effort, international cooperation with China and ASEAN is crucial. 

Finally, we must work to change people’s perceptions about drugs and drug users. In my research, for instance, I found that urban poor youths use shabu to gain more confidence and energy in doing various jobs, or to stay awake at night so they could work longer. If only they had other economic and educational opportunities, they would not have been caught in such a drug-using environment in the first place. Theirs is just one of many examples that show how drug use is often embedded in psychological, social, and economic circumstances that require our help and understanding - not outright judgment and punishment.

It is true that some drug users are engaged in criminal behavior for which they must face justice. But what is harmful is that this image is generalized to all drug users – all the imagined “four million” of them.

For as long as government officials and the public see drugs as an unqualified evil, drug users will remain stigmatized and deemed worthy of unreasonable punishments, tough campaigns against drugs will continue to receive popular support, and another "war on drugs" is bound to happen – and ultimately fail – in the future. – Rappler.com

(The author is a physician, medical anthropologist, and commentator on culture and current events.) 

President Duterte's communication secretary, and effectively public-relations man, Martin Andanar, has floated the idea of accrediting bloggers as members of the presidential press corps. I find that gravely anomalous, and don't quite know where to begin looking.

I don't know whether Andanar was inspired by his own enlistment as a columnist for one of the nation's press leaders, the Inquirer, but I imagine it's not difficult for him to have felt legitimized that way. 

Apparently he's now thinking of legitimizing bloggers as members of the press themselves. And how, indeed, can the Inquirer– and also the Star, which has its own attack blogger for Duterte, Mocha Uson – now disagree with Andanar?

There being a limitless supply of bloggers, anyway, the matter of physical accommodation alone, never mind qualification for the moment, becomes a real problem; it also opens Andanar to suspicions of bias. 

In fact, from the transcript of the meeting between him and the press on the issue, one already gets a sense of that bias. Andanar is quoted in it as saying bloggers were "a major factor" in getting Duterte elected – all in the name of freedom of expression, he says.

I've never seen that freedom so untenably stretched out of context.

To be sure, among both bloggers and journalists there are good and bad ones, too, but being good or bad has nothing to do with being one or the other. Bloggers are bloggers, and journalists are journalists, and the twain don't mix.

Journalists do blog, too, and I guess they have chosen to do so to further assert their freedom and individualism. One reason is to escape their editors, the superior vetting powers in a practical, even pragmatic, arrangement made necessary by the nature of the journalistic enterprise: it is conducted in an atmosphere of hurry and flurry and calls for snap decision making at every level of the operating hierarchy. But when journalists blog, their freedom-of-the-press credentials shouldn't count.

The issue is less about freedom than about responsibility, as I've told Rappler's Pia Ranada, who had herself heard Andanar take up the case for bloggers and asked me about it. Here's what I think, and have told her:

"Accrediting bloggers would encourage a blurring of the distinction between legitimate journalism and pseudo-journalism – of which blogging happens to be today's most typical example; the confusion necessarily extends to the audiences, and that's where the disservice and the danger lie. 

"Blogging is an individualistic, free-wheeling operation – although some bloggers are known to follow a common, if not collusive, line of thinking. It's the readiest, least-discriminating (in fact, it's open to anyone), widest-reaching, and therefore most tempting platform of free expression. It is cheap and easy enough for one to equip oneself for it and, once suitably equipped, one has the whole wired world for one's potential audience.

"Journalism, on the other hand, is an organized enterprise, both a profession and a trade, governed by universal rules of practice and ethics and tradition. Journalists are trained in certain disciplines and skills; yet, their practice remains subject to layer upon layer of checks, and they are made to assume their share of individual as well as collective responsibility. 

"Journalism is an engineered train; blogging is a runaway one." –Rappler.com 

As Analyn* was preparing a bottle of milk for her infant child, she heard a knock at the door. One of her husband’s friends answered it. She heard him say, “Sir, please don’t. There’s nothing here,” – and then a gunshot. The police stormed the house, shooting and killing 4 more men, including her husband.

Police officers forced Analyn to leave her house and then searched it. When she returned hours later, her home was wrecked, with blood still soaking the bed where her husband was sleeping. She works in sales, struggling to subsist on her meager income, and she told us the police had stolen her goods, money she was to remit to her boss, and money she had set aside to pay the electric bill. They also took new shoes she had bought for one of her 3 children.

Her story was one we heard repeatedly when it came to President Rodrigo Duterte’s “war on drugs.” Across Metro Manila, Cebu Province, and Mindanao, we documented 33 incidents in which 59 people were killed. Suspiciously similar police reports describe alleged drug offenders violently resisting arrest, causing the police to open fire. Consistent witness accounts show instead that the police are often killing people in cold blood, as they’re begging for their lives.

The more than 7,000 killings to date have overwhelmingly hit the urban poor. And the police and paid killers have built an economy off extrajudicial executions. Witnesses and family members repeatedly told us how the police stole money and other valuables from their homes, and wedding rings off the fingers of the deceased.

In a floating slum in Cebu Province, the police, perhaps having failed to find anything of monetary value, stole a Virgin Mary statue from a family’s altar – after gunning down an unarmed man during a police operation.

Paid

Worse, a police officer in an anti-illegal drugs unit in Metro Manila told us that they are paid under the table for killing alleged drug offenders, with payments ranging from P8,000 to P15,000 depending on the target. They receive nothing for an arrest, creating an incentive to kill. The officer also said that certain funeral homes pay them for each body they bring – further impoverishing already poor families who must borrow money to get their loved one’s remains.

Our investigation also shows that many of the killings by unknown shooters are, in fact, carried out with direct involvement of the police. At times, the police disguise themselves as vigilantes to avoid public suspicion about a particular killing; the police officer told us they would be inclined to kill women, in particular, disguised as vigilantes, rather than during formal police operations.

Two paid killers told us their boss is an active-duty police officer, and that they receive P5,000 for killing a person allegedly using drugs, and between P10,000 and P15,000 for killing a “drug pusher.” Before Duterte, they said they had one or two “jobs” a month; now, they have 3-4 every week.

President Duterte was elected on promises to be a champion of the poor and to reduce the persistent inequality that has marked the Philippines. Instead, an industry of murder is thriving, at the expense of the urban poor. Family members we interviewed repeatedly described the “war on drugs” as a war against the poor.

Analyn said her husband was not involved in drugs, but that he had friends who were, which she thinks may have brought on the police operation. In her area, she said, many others had been killed, contrasting their experience with the “big fish” who receive quite different treatment: “Those who are rich are jailed and turned into witnesses. How come the poor are being killed? In our neighborhood…they usually kill those of us who have families – people who sell to have a little money. If people had other opportunities, they wouldn’t [sell drugs].”

Change in strategy

On January 30, Philippine National Police Chief Ronald dela Rosa announced that the anti-illegal drug units would be disbanded, following the fallout from the killing of a Korean businessman. His statement came after a press conference in which Duterte said the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA) would take over the lead for operations, promising to continue his anti-drug campaign through the end of his term – after having initially indicated it was a 6-month campaign. 

This change in responsibility for anti-drug operations must be coupled with a fundamental change in strategy – from one based on punishment and violence to one based on the protection of health and respect for human rights, including standards on the lawful use of force.

Many countries, including neighbors of the Philippines, have tried a heavy-handed approach to drugs. Again and again, such tactics have proven unsuccessful, devastating lives while failing to tackle the root causes of drug use and sale. Poverty and its various manifestations are a problem you treat, not shoot at.

There must also be justice and accountability for those like Analyn who have watched as their loved ones were killed, and as the police planted “evidence” and stole from their homes. The impunity of the police force, encouraged by President Duterte’s statements, has fueled mass killing. The Department of Justice should urgently establish a special task force within the National Bureau of Investigation to conduct independent and efficient investigations of extrajudicial executions, leading to the prosecution of all those responsible, irrespective of rank or status. – Rappler.com

Matt Wells is a Senior Crisis Response Adviser at Amnesty International and one of the authors of the human rights organization's latest report, "If you are poor, you are killed": Extrajudicial executions in the Philippines' "War on Drugs"

*Analyn is not her real name, withheld to protect her confidentiality and safety.

“Buhay para sa buhay na inutang.” “An eye for an eye”. 

“Karma.” “Makatarungang paghihiganti.” 

“Death penalty is retribution for victims – Rep Frendenil Castro.”

“Kailangan ng ‘deterent’ o panakot sa mga sa kriminal.” 

“God is for death penalty– Senator Manny Pacquaio.”

Ito ang mga argumento sa panunumbalik ng hatol na kamatayan.

Ang pinakamatalas na argumento laban sa pagbabalik ng death penalty ay ito: depektibo at kurapt ang sistema ng hustisyang pangkrimen sa bansa. 

Tumambad ang bagong panukala sa panahong kakaiba ang timpla ang Pinoy. Ito'y sa panahong 'di pa nakakaahon sa 7,080 bangkay ng gyera laban sa droga ang taumbayan. Tila manhid na sa patayan ang mamamayan. Pinapalakpakan ngayon ang isang kampanyang kumitil sa libo-libong buhay. 

Kung aminado ang pamunuan na nangongotong at nangingidnap ang ilang alagad ng batas – na ayon nga kay Senador Panfilo Lacson ay pinayagang gawin “practically anything” – ano ang panangga ng mamayanan sa abuso, pangongotong at “frame-up” ng kurapt na pulis patola? 

Ayon  kay Albay Representative Edcel Lagman: Kurapt na pulis + bayarang piskal + inutil o kurapt na alagad ng korte = baluktot na hustisya. Ano pa ang sasaklap sa makulong at mabitay nang walang sala?

Narito ang datos. 

Ayon sa Supreme Court sa desisyon nito sa People v Mateo in 2004: sa loob ng 11 taon mula Hunyo 1993 hanggang Hunyo 2004, 907 sa of 1,493 kaso na nirebisa ng High Court, napagtibay lamang ang hatol na kamatayan sa 230 kaso o 25.36%.

Sabi ni La Salle University Law School Dean Jose Manuel Diokno, sa unang pagkakataon, natuklasan na 71.77%  ng mga desisyon ng Regional Trial Courts ay mali. Nangangahulugang 7 sa 10 sa "death row" ay "wrongfully convicted.”

Anti-poor ang death penalty, ayon kay Lagman. Ang nahahatulan ng bitay ay ang mga pobreng nasasakdal na walang pambayad sa dekalibreng abugado. Ang mga nahahatulan ay ang mga walang koneksyon; isang kahig-isang tukang mamamayan.

Kung ano man, manganganak lamang ang  death penalty ng mas pilipit na sistemang hustisya.  

Ano na ang laban ni Juan kay James Bond Parak na sanay isantabi ang "due process"? Anong panlaban natin sa isang sistemang hindi na “innocent until proven guilty” kundi “guilty until otherwise proven?” 

Ayon kay Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez, “Kung ang nasa harapan mo ay si Satanas na mismo, oh my God! Bigyan mo naman ang gobyerno ng option para patayin na 'yan. Satanas na 'yan ah!”

Ito ang makitid na argumentong walang lugar sa lipunang nag-iisip at nangangalaga sa karapatang pantao. 

Ayon sa ma iskolar ng sistemang panghustisya, sapat na ‘deterent’ o pang-udlot ng krimen ang katiyakan na mapaparusan ka kapag nilabag mo ang batas. Hindi kailangan ng lethal injection, silya elektrika o lubid. Kailangan lamang walang sablay na pagpapatupad ng kaparusahan, ano man ito.

Ayon kay Capiz Representative Fredenil Castro, “isang paulit-ulit at taimtim na pagsusuri at paghalukay ng budhi” ang kanyang isinagawa. Nauwi ang “soul-searching” n’ya sa konklusyon na dapat bitayin ang mga “salot na kriminal”.

Hindi lamang si Castro ang nahaharap sa salamin ng kasaysayan. Tayong mga Pilipino ay nasa sangandaan. Huwag nating pairalin ang pagkamuhi at kitid ng pang-unawa.    

Dagdag pa ni Diokno, “pawang kontra-mahirap ang extrajudicial killings at judicial killings.”

Malalim ang mga salitang binitawan ni Manila Archbishop Luis Antonio Cardinal Tagle. “Nagiilusyon ang sugatan nating lipunan na kailangang kumitil ng buhay upang ipagtanggol ito.”  

Nais natin ng makatao at patas na pamayanan – 'yung di ka pababayaan dahil ika’y mahirap. Walang puwang sa ating lipunan ang hatol kamatayan, tulad na rin na wala dapat puwang ang "culture of impunity" sa ating mga puso. – Rappler.com 

Leave it to Duterte to surprise everyone. First he lifts the government’s ceasefire with the New People's Army (NPA), then the next day calls a stop to talks altogether.

Angered by NPA attacks on the military even before their announced February 10 ceasefire lifting, Duterte has regained the momentum in talks with the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). The ball is now in the rebels' court.

Peace talks with the CPP have gone further than at any time in the past under Duterte. He has released the most important leaders of the CPP. He has, for all intents and purposes, formed a coalition government prior to a political settlement by appointing three CPP people to Cabinet positions. He has generated a political mood supportive of talks. 

The CPP has been playing hard ball, shaping the process to its best advantage. The CPP's announcement that it was lifting its ceasefire was yet another attempt to gain even more advantage. A serious ceasefire would work against the CPP.  In theory, they should stop extorting from vulnerable businesses. "Revolutionary taxation" only works if there is a credible threat of punishment, burning buses, construction and other equipment. 

It is striking that the ceasefire lifting was announced by "Ka Oris," a longtime leader of the NPA in northeastern Mindanao. It is reliably reported that this area has been the main source of CPP funds for years. Illegal loggers and miners have been "protected" by a syndicate of local NPA and corrupt military. 

The CPP's other announcement, that it does not see a political settlement for several years, at least until 2020, should also be seen in this context. If indeed the CPP gives up the armed struggle, it needs to be able to show other sources of political power, most importantly a capacity to win elections. 

The electoral success of CPP front party-list groups is anchored on its ability to collect fees for its "permit to campaign" and votes negotiated with local politicians. Without the threat of armed retaliation, this electoral strategy would not work. The next election is in 2019. The CPP needs to be able to show increased electoral capacity before (if it is serious about) a political settlement. 

CPP's distinct political advantage

The best possible conditions for the CPP negotiating strategy would have been a one-sided ceasefire. Maybe the CPP thought that Duterte has been bending over backwards so much he might as well bend some more. They were probably surprised by the rapid-fire Duterte announcements. It would not have been the first surprise. Government people have been hinting that CPP negotiators in Rome were blindsided by Ka Oris' announcement. 

It should be noted that the CPP accuses the military of ceasefire violations, not for initiating armed attacks on the NPA, but simply for being in place in areas claimed by the CPP. Though not yet made explicit as a demand, this is a key element in the CPP's framework, being recognized as a co-equal government with its own territory, armed force and legitimate right to collect taxes. The CPP has also claimed co-equal power in supervising the implementation of major political and economic reforms prior to giving up its guns. Thus the demand for a multi-year negotiating process. 

In the past week CPP spokespersons have been saying that it is alright to continue talks even if there’s a renewal of fighting.

As long as the CPP remains in government, at the very top, in the Cabinet, while criticizing key government policy, it retains a distinct political advantage. As long as the talks continue, the CPP can continue to gain military and political strength. 

At a certain point, Duterte will have to decide whether to live with this kind of situation. Having ended negotiations, Duterte now has to decide whether he wants CPP people in his Cabinet.

In Davao City a similar situation was possible because the local NPA did not claim to be a co-equal government. As president, Duterte has to decide whether he wants a coalition partner which is killing government soldiers and collecting taxes.

Internal problems

The CPP has its own problems. There have been rumors for months that local NPA commanders have not been as enthusiastic about the talks as Sison and his faction in the CPP leadership. The local NPA leadership, especially in places where it has established ways to generate financial resources, can operate indefinitely. 

CPP negotiators have to worry about whether it can get local NPA commanders to give up its guns after a political settlement. The aging Sison leadership needs a conclusion to the peace process that carves out a significant political position for the party. Will peace be served by yet another major split in the CPP?

Despite Duterte’s announcement of an end of negotiations, my bet is that it will continue. To put pressure on the CPP, the government has to strengthen its negotiating position. It will have to equalize the political negotiating balance by all means short of, but in the end, possibly including removing CPP people from the Cabinet. It has to find a way to persuade the CPP that prolonging the negotiations will not enable it to become stronger.

Strangely enough, peace may have a chance only if the government takes a hardline position matching that of the CPP.  – Rappler.com

Joel Rocamora is a political analyst and a seasoned civil society leader. He finished his PhD in Politics, Asian Studies, and International Relations in Cornell University, and had headed the Institute for Popular Democracy, the Transnational Institute, and the Akbayan Citizens’ Action Party. He used to be the Lead Convenor of the National Anti-Poverty Commission under the administration of former president Benigno Aquino III.

Duterte is not a socialist. And if he is, I am not one.

The President has uttered several lies during his candidacy and presidency, but among those I find most appalling, is his profession that he is a socialist. His actions and policies speak the contrary, and if he still believes that he can rightfully claim to be one, I think this is out of the possibility that he does not understand what socialism entails.

Most recently, he has pronounced that he is not afraid to tag communists as terrorists. This may be because while many progressive groups have in one avenue or another engaged in collaboration with his administration, with the Communist Party of the Philippines even throwing its weight to support him even in the most questionable of times, some groups have not backed down in criticizing and even condemning unjust policies he has spearheaded.

Some outside spectators view this as hypocrisy, others have called it cowardice. But to those who have struggled with the masses for years and understand the intricacies of living under the banner of capitalism, there is a valley that divides blind support and critical engagement.

Perhaps this is a time to break ties and call for an outright opposition to the strongman’s rule. Or perhaps it is not. But the body count of state-sponsored killings, the opportunism of corrupt police officers in the atmosphere of impunity, and the surge of support for policies which promote fear and intimidation by the state against its citizens show that socialists must at least distinguish themselves from this man who claims to be among their ranks while being the exact opposite of what they aim to be.

Building on courage, not terror

Socialists do not believe that fear drives change: that is the terrorist’s pipe dream. Terrorists believe that to upset the status quo, the threat of arbitrary violence must run rampant, and that people should believe that no one is safe.

If there is anyone at present who believes that such is true, it is not the socialists, not the progressives, but the President himself.

Socialists do not build on terror, but courage. In this sense, they are the opposite of terrorists. The strength of the commune lies in the awareness of the people that they have “nothing to lose but their chains,” and for this reason, if anyone has anything to fear, it is the State and those whose interest it represents.

The government should fear its people. And it does. How else could one justify the government’s fixation on elevating punishment, increasing its capacity to harm, and widening its range, even including children – through law – in those who warrant justice which comes from the barrel of a gun?

For this reason, socialists believe that change can only come in the collective assertion of the people’s aspirations, not in kneeling in subservience to those who hold them at gunpoint. This collective assertion is exercised in collective action: in the streets, inside the halls of Congress, on the mountains, depending on the conditions that are prevailing. This is another thing that sets socialists apart from Duterte: they do not believe in the strength of just one man.

What's Duterte's contribution?

Even those who have aged and gained much experience from the movement would not dare weigh himself or herself against the wisdom of a collective. And that is why it is a rare occasion to find one person, against the unities held by the collective, would hold himself higher than the rest.

Live among socialists and you would not find one person who treats himself or herself as an exception to the standards set by the commune. Socialists value individuality not as a good in itself, but as a contribution to the group. 

And what is Duterte’s contribution? And to what group does he contribute? Certainly, not the working class whom he has betrayed in offering a false solution to contractualization. Certainly, not the impoverished masses whom he has declared to be guilty until proven innocent when dead in his drug war. Certainly, not the fallen progressives whose memory he has desecrated by hailing the dead tyrant Marcos worthy of a hero’s burial.

The President’s “novelty” is not novel at all. It has only served a handful of people whose interests have always been prevailing in our society. And while he may claim to his heart’s content that he is not “yellow,” he certainly is not red.

All the while, he uses his approval rating, his 16 million votes, to justify his actions. Socialists do not believe such things to be the measure of correctness. Socialists analyze the conditions, extract the cure, and empower people to take it as a united front.

Terrorists, as well as Duterte, do the opposite: they invent the disease and sell the cure, and use tactics to divide the people so that the real object of anger is hidden in plain sight. They divide us based on our opinions of our leaders, based on our allegiances to parties set up by the elite, based on which color of chains we prefer. Meanwhile, economic development plans remain the same. Public services remain increasingly privatized. And business remains profitable while the poor remain poor.

History will have a lot of opinions about Duterte, but he will not be remembered as a socialist. He may be remembered as strong, even in his impotence. True, even in his falsehoods. This is not new.

But there are no insults he can throw against socialists, against true democrats, against the social movement, that has not already been said. But while the strength of men have failed, these “terrorists” have prevailed. The march of history labors on. And history will absolve us. – Rappler.com

Arvin Buenaagua, a graduate of political science from the University of the Philippines, is a member of the Samahan ng Progresibong Kabataan. He is currently studying in the UP College of Law and is an advocate of ecological and climate justice.

On February 4, 2017, I set off to spend my second weekend in a row at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). In the wake of United States President Donald Trump's January 27 executive order barring non-citizens from 7 countries from entering the US, the organization for whom I work, Asian Americans Advancing Justice - Los Angeles, a coalition of non-profit organizations, and volunteer attorneys have provided legal assistance to distraught family members at LAX, waiting anxiously to see if their loved ones would be permitted to enter the United States.

Even though a February 3 court order unambiguously stayed implementation of the travel ban, we continued to get reports from family and friends about non-citizen travelers stuck for hours at border inspections at LAX. Travelers were held up by US Customs and Border Protection (CBP) for hours – on average at least 3 hours and sometimes for more than 12 – waiting to complete secondary border inspections, often without food or water.

It did not matter if the traveler had a green card or a valid visa. And it did not matter what country they came from. We received reports of travelers from all over the world – countries in East Asia, Southeast Asia, Africa, and Latin America – suffering inordinate delays waiting to clear customs at LAX.

I have felt an obligation – as a Filipino-American, a son of immigrants, and a public interest attorney – to provide whatever assistance I can to individuals and families affected by the new administration's anti-immigrant actions. I have been disheartened, however, to find Filipinos on social media expressing support for the new US president's actions, buying into xenophobic and Islamophobic myths. Indeed, although Asian-Americans overwhelmingly voted against the new president in November, Filipino-Americans were the most likely to vote for the Republican candidate among the largest Asian-American ethnic groups.

I hope Filipinos in the United States, in the Philippines, and around the globe come to appreciate that, although we may not have been named explicitly in the Trump administration's executive orders thus far, we are very much in its crosshairs. While campaigning, the new US president included the Philippines in a list of "terrorist nations," describing individuals from such countries as "animals." In fact, the Philippine Department of Foreign Affairs recently estimated that more than 300,000 Filipinos in the US may be targeted for deportation. As recently as last week, rumors – debunked for now – swirled that the existing travel ban could include the southern Philippines.

Filipinos around the world must remain vigilant. Filipinos have endured a long history of discrimination in the US, where businesses once felt free to post signs declaring that "no Filipinos or dogs [were] allowed." Thankfully, Filipino-Americans also have a storied history of activism, partnering with other communities to fight injustice and racism.

The Trump administration's recent actions represent only the latest chapter of America's sordid history with racism and xenophobia. The new US president built his campaign on vicious anti-immigrant rhetoric, and it seems that he intends to make good on these campaign promises. The administration's actions not only imperil Filipinos and other immigrants in the US but threaten to plunge the Philippines and its neighbors into war.

The world has entered uncertain times, and in the US, our most vulnerable communities – people of color, non-citizens, religious minorities, and others – have been targeted by the Trump administration and many of its supporters. But Filipinos should not give in to any false comfort that we are not the prime targets. We should remember that, at any time, we could be next on the chopping block.

With this in mind, it is imperative that Filipinos stand in solidarity to help protect those who have already been singled out. We must protest xenophobic actions and provide service to those unjustly targeted. If we do not, when our name is ultimately called, we cannot in good faith expect others to come to our defense.– Rappler.com

Christopher Lapinig is a Skadden Fellow and Registered Legal Services Attorney at Asian Americans Advancing Justice - Los Angeles, the United States' largest legal services and civil rights organization for Asian-Americans, Pacific Islanders, and Native Hawaiians. If you are in need of legal assistance, you can reach Advancing Justice-LA at its Filipino helpline +1-855-300-2552.

To address the country’s drug and crime problem, President Duterte has called on Congress to resurrect the death penalty after it was abolished in 2006. 

In response, the House of Representatives Committee on Justice swiftly approved House Bill 1 last December, with plenary debates now ongoing. In the Senate, the death penalty bill is reportedly having a much harder time because of greater opposition from the senators. (READ: Senate poised to kill death penalty)

Indeed, there’s a great deal of debate surrounding the pros and cons of the death penalty. But in this article we take on the issue by turning to statistics, empirical studies, and a review of the country’s past experience with the death penalty.

All in all, the data suggest that the death penalty will be unnecessary, anti-poor, and error-prone given the current state of our legal and judicial system.

1) Crime rates have fallen even without the death penalty.

Many people justify the return of the death penalty because of its purported ability to quell the rising tide of criminality plaguing the country. The idea is that executing felons for committing heinous crimes will deter future criminals, thus lowering crime rates.

But Figure 1 shows that from 1978 to 2008 there had been a general decline in the incidence of “index crimes”. These are crimes that occur with “sufficient regularity” and have “socioeconomic significance”, including some “heinous” ones like murder and rape.

Crime data are usually laden with many caveats, most notably underreporting. But despite these limitations, Figure 1 suggests at least 3 things.

First, the supposed “rising tide” of criminality is more of a myth than a fact: index crimes have, in fact, been falling steadily since the early 1990s.

Second, even in the years without the death penalty, the index crime rate had plummeted. Hence, the death penalty is not necessary to see a fall in crime rates.

Third, even after a record number of executions in 1999 (when Leo Echegaray and 6 others were put to death by lethal injection), no pronounced drop in index crimes was observed. The incidence of index crimes even rose by 8.8% from 1999 to 2002.

2) Studies abroad could also not find strong evidence the death penalty deters crime.

Many other countries also fail to see compelling evidence the death penalty deters crime.

In the US, for example, the death penalty alone could not explain the great decline in homicide rates observed in the 1990s. Figure 2 shows that the homicide rates in Texas, California, and New York had fallen at roughly the same pace throughout the 1990s. This is despite the fact that these 3 states used the death penalty very differently: Whereas Texas executed 447 people over that period, California executed just 13 people, and New York executed no one.

Indeed, the US National Research Council concluded in 2012 that, “research to date…is not informative about whether capital punishment decreases, increases or has no effect on homicide rates.”

In Asia, a separate study reached the same conclusion when it compared the homicide rates in Singapore (a country of many executions) and Hong Kong (few executions). More recent research also shows that, instead of imposing harsher punishments, a higher certainty of being caught may be more effective in deterring crime.

3) Previous death sentences fell disproportionately on the poor.

The death penalty, as applied in the Philippines before, was not only unnecessary in reducing crime but also largely anti-poor: poor inmates were more likely to be sentenced to death than rich inmates.

Back in 2004 the Free Legal Assistance Group (FLAG) did a survey of 890 death row inmates. Among other things, FLAG found that 79% of death row inmates did not reach college and 63% were previously employed in blue-collar work in sectors like agriculture, transport, and construction.

Most tellingly, two-thirds of death row inmates had a monthly wage on or below the minimum wage (see Figure 3). Meanwhile, less than 1% of death row inmates earned a monthly wage of more than P50,000.

One main reason behind this disparity is that rich inmates have much more resources to aggressively defend themselves in court (e.g., hiring a battery of lawyers) compared to poor inmates. Unless this imbalance is addressed, the death penalty will only continue to be a vehicle for “selective justice”.

4) Previous death sentences were also error-prone.

Too many Filipinos were also wrongly sentenced to death before. This may be the single most damning argument against the reimposition of the death penalty.

In the case of People of the Philippines vs. Mateo (2004), the Supreme Court admitted that a vast majority of trial courts had wrongfully imposed the death penalty during the time it was available as a sentencing option from 1993 to 2004.

Figure 4 shows that of the 907 death convictions that went to the Supreme Court for review, as many as 72% were erroneously decided upon. These cases were returned to lower courts for further proceedings, reduced to life imprisonment, or even reversed to acquittal. By detecting these errors, a total of 651 out of 907 lives were saved from lethal injection.

Unless this alarmingly high rate of “judicial errors” is fixed, bringing back the death penalty will only put more innocent people on death row.

Conclusion: The death penalty is a naïve way of dealing with criminality

The death penalty can be assailed on many grounds, whether moral, philosophical, or legal. But just by focusing on the available data, it is apparent that the death penalty, as used in the past, was largely unnecessary and ineffective in reducing crime.

Even assuming for a moment that it was a deterrent, the death penalty tended to discriminate against the poor and was subject to alarmingly high error rates.

It is no wonder that so many countries around the world today have abolished the death penalty rather than retained it. As of 2015, 140 countries have abolished the death penalty in law or in practice.

Crime is a more complex and nuanced issue than many of our politicians will care to admit. Reinstating the death penalty – and equating death with justice – is a patently naïve and simplistic way of going about it. – Rappler.com

JC Punongbayan is a PhD student and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. Kevin Mandrilla is an MA student at the UP Asian Center with a background in human rights advocacy. Their views do not necessarily reflect the views of their affiliations.

If I must choose between going to hell with President Duterte in pursuit of the war on drugs in the Philippines or going to heaven with Archbishop Soc Villegas because neither he nor any of the Catholic Bishops of the Philippines “find pleasure in the death of anyone who dies” (cf. Ezekiel 18:32), I choose going to heaven with the CBCP, even if their company and their language is neither as colorful nor as entertaining as that of the President.

People jest that going to hell could be heavenly because all the “nice” people opt to go there. After fighting his war on drugs to rid the Philippines of drug addicts and drug lords, the President may be dismayed to discover that hell is filled with the drug lords and drug addicts who’ve perished in his war – to say nothing of all the selfish rich he’s loathed for making their millions oppressing the poor he loves.

My vote for Rodrigo Roa Duterte was a vote for him as President of the Philippines. It was not a vote for him as God. Nor a vote for him as the Evil One. I was happy when he was elected President. Finally, we had an independent-minded man from the masses of Mindanao with a heart for the poor who would wield the powers of secular government towards greater social justice. That heart, I believed, guided by the values of his mother, would lead him to success.   I cringe when he talks as if he were God and curses other people as if he were the Evil One.

I cringe, even though I have meanwhile learned he jokes a lot. Words have meaning, whether uttered in anger or in jest. I am turned off when people tell me, “Don’t listen to him, just mind what he does,” and that “P***ng Ina” in the mouth of this President is a term of endearment.

My support for President Duterte has always been premised on his declaration that he would abide by the law. That includes, from the Fundamental Law of the Land: “No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law, nor shall any person be denied the equal protection of the law” (Art. III, Sec. 1). “One cannot build this country on the cadavers of dead Filipinos,” I remember he once said.

My support for the war on drugs has been based on my hatred for the evil that the illegal drug trade brings its victims, rich and poor. As far as how this war is conducted, I have opted to allow the Commander–in-Chief the discretion to marshal the means necessary to win the war. Talking tough seemed to be necessary for the campaign, just as oft repeating that he would protect his policemen from jail should they be prosecuted in the line of duty. Targeted were not only the victims of the trade but especially its perpetrators. The latter were heavily armed and internationally organized. Where other countries had failed, we needed to succeed. We did not want to be “drug tolerant”; we wanted to be drug free.

In this light, I was content to presume that lives taken by the police were taken legitimately – as the result of a police operation resisted foolishly by the drug-users.

As the number of killed rose, I was quieted by the President’s general declarations that he is not responsible for extrajudicial killings. There were, after all, many other plausible sources of the killings: turf wars among the drug pushers, rogue policemen covering their tracks, operations of the cartels to discredit legitimate police operations.

But I was scandalized by the murder of an arrested man in a jail cell by policemen, and even more scandalized by the evil of policemen planting evidence on people they would kill for pushing drugs.

Apparently, I was not the only one scandalized. The President was so scandalized he suspended the entire police operation on drugs. The dreaded “TokHang” that had begun as a knock and a conversation, metamorphosed into a virtual death sentence, was now to be tried under suspicion of murder.

In this context, I confess I share the deep concerns of the bishops “due to many deaths and killings in the campaign against prohibited drugs” and I cringe at the co-responsibility I bear for innocent lives that may have been taken due to my silence.

With the bishops, I reiterate my personal belief in basic teachings rooted in our being human, Filipino and Christian, and so transcend support for any political administration, namely:

• “The life of every person comes from God. It is he who gives it, and it is he alone who can take it back. Not even the government has a right to kill life because it is only God’s steward and not the owner of life.
• “The opportunity to change is never lost in every person. This is because God is merciful…
• “To destroy one’s own life and the life of another, is a grave sin and does evil to society…
• “Every person has a right to be presumed innocent until proven guilty…
• “Any action that harms another (seriously) is a grave sin. To push drugs is a grave sin as is killing (except in self defense). We cannot correct a wrong by doing another wrong. A good purpose is not a justification for an evil means. It is good to remove the drug problem, nut to kill in order to achieve this is also wrong.
• “The deep root of the drug problems and criminality is the poverty of the majority, the destruction of the family and corruption in society.
• “We must also give priority to reforming rogue policemen and corrupt judges.
• “To consent and keep silent in front of evil is to be an accomplice of evil.”[1]

Of course, stating this with conviction does not guarantee that I will not go to hell nor prevent the President from getting to heaven.

But for those who walk this earth together in the hope of building a better Philippine nation, it is good to consider that there are forces of evil with which we must contend with on this earthly journey.

I believe it is better to battle evil on the side of God, rather than on the side of the Evil One.

The Evil One tempts to power, pride, deceit, delusion, hubris and brings tragedy.

God leads in service, humility, truth and brings success.

This has everything to do with the war on drugs we have just suspended, the negotiating tables that have been scuttled, the war with the CPP-NPA-NDF we have just sadly resumed, our fragile hopes for peace with the Muslims of Mindanao, our hopes for economic prosperity in a framework of social justice and environmental responsibility, our hopes for a Christian reception of Ambisyon Natin 2040. Unless we discern the straight and narrow path enlightened by God, we are doomed to bring the death penalty onto ourselves.

Between hell for some and heaven for others, why not, for now, the negotiated common good for all on earth? – Rappler.com

[1] CBCP Pastoral Letter, “For I find no pleasure in the death of anyone who dies – oracle of the Lord God (Ezekiel 18:32),” January 20, 2017.

This first appeared on the author's blog, taborasj.
 
Fr Joel Tabora, SJ is a Jesuit priest and currently president of Ateneo de Davao University.  He chairs the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities Asia Pacific, and the National Advocacy Commission of the Catholic Educational Association of the Philippines (CEAP). He is president of the Philippine Accrediting Association of Schools Colleges and Universities (PAASCU) and the Davao Association of Catholic Schools (DACS). He is a board member of Xavier University, Ateneo de Zamboanga University, the Catholic Ministry for Deaf People, the CEAP, and the Coordinating Council of Private Educational Associations (COCOPEA) in the Philippines.

The call to resume the peace talks between the Government of the Republic of the Philippines (GRP) and the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP) is only right and just because their scrapping by President Duterte was premature, even as the NDFP Panel Chief Political Consultant and Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) guru Jose Maria Sison says he understands him. But this call should be accompanied by another call to resume the unilateral interim ceasefires that were also prematurely terminated first by the CPP and New People’s Army (NPA) leadership for the NDFP (not the other way around) and then soon after followed suit by President Duterte for the GRP. This was the casus belli, as it were, or what triggered the downward spiral of this whole peace process. This prematurity we had already discussed last weekend in an article “Urgent Motion for Reconsideration of the Ceasefire Termination,” forgive the court case terminology of a MR.

To save and bring the whole peace process back on track should entail, to use court case terms again, a return to the status quo ante – the situation before the breakdown in the process. That status quo ante was clearly one of peace talks accompanied by unilateral interim ceasefires up to the Rome Talks of last January 19 to 25. The “Joint Statement on the Successful Third Round of Formal Talks between the GRP and NDFP in Rome, Italy” is the best evidence of the prematurity that we are talking about. It is not the interim, repeat interim only, ceasefire that was premature but rather its termination. In the Joint Statement, it was in fact stated particularly that “The Parties note that their unilateral indefinite ceasefires remain in place.”

If only the peace process breakdown could be subject to a court injunction (like US President Trump’s travel ban), the injunction would be to restore that status quo ante of unilateral interim ceasefires. This is what would avoid a deterioration of the situation now that the dogs of war on both sides have been unleashed. This is what is needed as “a measure of restraint” (Sison’s words, akin to a court temporary restraining order or TRO) before it is too late – before there can no longer be any holding back of the fighting which creates its own negative dynamic for the whole process, as experience has shown.

Some peace advocates no less, ironically say that “the absence of reciprocal, unilateral ceasefires should not unhinge our efforts for building peace.”  But it has unhinged this process under President Duterte, if not himself also. Others say “Keep on talking even when there is fighting. But keep on listening as well.” But that’s very hard “amid the din and drone” of gunfire and explosions, whether from NPA landmines or Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) artillery shelling and aerial bombardment. These disrupt not just listening but the very business of living in the conflict-affected areas of the countryside.

Sison et al. cite at least 10 major agreements that have been sealed since the Ramos administration of 1992-98 despite the continued fighting. But only one of those is considered a substantive agreement, the Comprehensive Agreement on Respect for Human Rights and Humanitarian Law (CARHRIHL). That is only the first of four major substantive agenda items under the framework Hague Joint Declaration of 1992. Just one substantive agreement in nearly 25 years or one generation! That is already “untenable,” to use the CPP-NPA’s description of the unilateral interim ceasefires. Compare that to the two years from the 2012 Framework Agreement on the Bangsamoro to the 2014 Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro in the peace talks cum ceasefire with the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) during the Aquino administration.

We have precisely “been there, done that” already with fighting while talking for the most part of several decades of the GRP-NDFP peace process since 1992, more so if we count from the first round in 1986-87. It’s about time that we try talking and listening without fighting where the latter is understood to be for a reasonable interim period only of an estimated (by the CPP leadership and the NDFP Panel) two years or so to possibly work out comprehensive agreements on socio-economic and politico-constitutional reforms. The Rome Joint Statement indicated fair, if not good, advances on this. Indeed, as an NDFP partisan said, “the aim of the talks is not just to end the fighting but also to address the roots of the armed conflict.” But in the meantime, for a reasonable period, can the fighting (just this, not other forms of struggle) not be put on hold as a “specific measure of goodwill and confidence-building to create a favorable climate for peace negotiations”? This is not yet for the “end of hostilities and disposition of forces.” A mere interim ceasefire in this context is not “tantamount to the capitulation and pacification of the revolutionary people and forces.” AND at the end of that reasonable period, IF good faith negotiations still fail to achieve substantive reform agreements, THEN a return to armed struggle would be understandable or even justified, depending also on the circumstances.

It is fair, not only by the GRP but also by all peace-loving Filipinos, to raise a privileged question of sincerity about talking peace while fighting a war. As we had written a number of years back, why continue to fight a war if the peace talks are “successful” so far, especially in working towards comprehensive agreements on substantive reforms to address the roots of the armed conflict? Why suffer the loss of precious lives, including of thy comrades, in the meantime if these are going to be achieved? Or does the desire to continue armed struggle indicate an expectation or worse, an intention, that the peace talks will ultimately fail?

By the CPP-NPA’s termination of its unilateral interim ceasefire (followed suit by the GRP), it has in effect (or as intended?) preempted an interim bilateral ceasefire already scheduled for another meeting of the two ceasefire committees.  One relevant simple question that nobody seems to be asking is: are both sides willing to reinstate the prematurely terminated unilateral ceasefires as an important “compelling reason,” or “key link,” or key gesture (as far as President Duterte is concerned), to reverse the premature announcement of an "all-out war" and the premature scrapping of the peace talks? The simple proposition is that it is only right and that all that have been prematurely done should be undone before it can no longer be undone. – Rappler.com

Soliman M. Santos Jr is presently the Judge of the Regional Trial Court (RTC) Branch 61 in Naga City. He is the author of a number of books, including Justice of the Peace: The Work of a First-Level Court Judge in the Rinconada District of Camarines Sur (Quezon City: Central Books, 2015). He has been a political activist and martial law detainee; a long-time human rights and international humanitarian lawyer; legislative consultant and legal scholar; peace advocate, researcher and writer.

It ended as swiftly as it began – the ceasefire between the Duterte government and the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) – that one wonders whether both sides were prepared for it in the first place, or at the very least were aware of what it required.

President Rodrigo Duterte and the CPP have known each other intimately for at least 3 decades, since the former mayor of Davao struck a modus vivendi with the guerrillas to keep his city safe. In exchange, Duterte espoused the rebels’ advocacies, brokered the release of their many “prisoners of war” over the years, and helped them in any way he could.

Both understood and embraced extreme measures, like two peas in a pod, except that one worked within the bureaucracy, the other in the periphery. Which is why both knew that if there’s any chance of forging a lasting peace, it is now, with this president, with this movement.

But the talks broke down as quickly as the dining table was set in Malacañang last September for the historic breaking of bread between the former mayor and guerrilla leaders. 

What we’ve seen and heard in the last couple of weeks was a fiery exchange of words between President Duterte and the CPP,  like a quarrel between old friends who had come to the negotiating table full of hope, goodwill, and a sense of familiarity. 

What went wrong? We need not bang our heads to find the answer, for it's a simple one: the loss of face between friends. 

The President feels he lost face after going out of his way to keep his word – appointing leftists in the Cabinet, ordering the military to stop fighting, and allowing the early release of political prisoners before any substantial agreement is reached. 

The CPP feels it lost face, too, after going out of its way to keep faith in this president – muting its protests amid a virtual global condemnation of the government’s war on drugs and being in bed with a leader who buried Ferdinand Marcos at the heroes’ cemetery and constantly sings praises for the dictator and his heir.

It’s the height of naiveté – or hubris – for either side to have thought that this peace process is simply about keeping one’s word or banking on good faith. The Philippines isn’t Davao City. The CPP isn’t just Joma Sison, even if he thinks otherwise. And the government isn’t just Duterte, even if he thinks otherwise.

They should have known better, having worked with each other for long. Instead, we saw them commit the same mistakes and blunders that past peace processes had suffered.

Precisely because of the CPP’s personal and political ties with the President, the current peace talks should not be business as usual. The process needs not just rebooting; it demands a new operating system.

The CPP should stop treating the talks as a mere tactical step in its protracted people’s war. It should drop all illusions of winning through the armed struggle. The rebels should assume that Duterte has dealt long enough with them to know when they’re pulling his leg.

On the other hand, the President – or any president for that matter – should stop treating the talks as a trophy to buttress one’s political capital. Duterte should stop taking it personally, for neither the world nor the insurgency revolves around him. He should assume that the rebels have dealt long enough with him to know when he’s bluffing his way through. 

So enough of the slogans, the fire and brimstone, the big and ambitious promises, the short-sighted, tactical goals that have marked previous negotiations.

The reality is, since the peace process began after the euphoria of the 1986 People Power Revolution, some aspects of it have drastically changed: the public is no longer as invested in it; the rebels have fought for far too long; the military has grown fatter but also wiser; and the peace bureaucracy – built over the years – has already put mechanisms in place that can facilitate the process to its logical conclusion.

These are the immediate realities that the Duterte peace process has to navigate, not the presence of so-called spoilers, as if both sides do not harbor them.

What the future requires is as clear as day: for both sides to reimpose the ceasefire, resume the talks, and see this through beyond the issue of losing face and beyond the old mindsets that have made all previous attempts at peace unsuccessful.

Otherwise, they have everything to lose. And no amount of mutual love can ever make them get that back. – Rappler.com