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 Who's checking?: The Ampatuans' mansion in Shariff Aguak is said to be just one of the total 35 which the clan amassed while holding public office, apart from its fleet of luxury cars, ammunitions and firearms and PhP 200 million. But nobody from the government is yet to tell the public whatever happened to these more than a year after the clan allegedly ordered the massacre of 58 people just to stay in power. JES AZNAR (The Philippine Public Transparency Reporting Project next week launches the first in a series of events and reports on building accountability in Maguindanao with a public meeting in Davao featuring Governor Esmael Mangudadatu and others. Today, we take an introductory look at the official response to what was the most tragic and catastrophic failure of governance in national history. The State failed the 58 victims of the November 23, 2009 massacre – those in authority in Maguindanao are charged with involvement and complicity in their killing: Much was promised and ordered investigated or changed since then by the central government in Manila – but more than one year on, what has actually happened?)
In the immediate aftermath of the Maguindanao killings, the Office of the Ombudsman ordered an investigation into the lifestyle of senior members of the Ampatuans, the hugely wealthy and influential clan accused of orchestrating the massacre. Humphrey Monteroso, deputy ombudsman for Mindanao was quoted in Sun Star Davao as saying his team was investigating the family for possible violation of the country’s anti-graft and corruption laws. He alleged that many of the properties and other assets of the clan, conservatively estimated at PhP 3 billion (USD 68 million), were not declared in their Statement of Assets, Liabilities and Net Worth (SALN).
The team’s report was submitted to Ombudsman Merceditas Gutierrez in July 2010. Yet the latest accomplishment report posted in its website has no word of any actions taken based on the findings of the Maguindanao investigating team.
Why the long silence? When will the reports be made public? What were the substantive points raised in relation to allegations of corruption given the widely-held notion that the Ampatuans amassed their wealth while holding public office? Are there other ongoing investigations or lifestyle checks in Maguindanao? What are the steps for releasing or accessing information with regards similar investigations?
The Commission on Audit (COA) report on its financial audit of the province of Maguindanao for 2009 showed that “as of December 31, 2009, due to the non-preparation of Bank Reconciliation Statements on all funds by the Auditee (Maguindanao)…the validity and reliability of the Cash in Bank, Local Currency Current Account totaling P70,494,975.61 cannot be ascertained.”
The financial audit, posted in the COA website, also said that the “validity, existence and accuracy of the Property, Plant and Equipment valued at P339,430,843.44 in the consolidated balance sheet” cannot also be ascertained because the provincial government did not submit the year end inventory report as required by law.
Of five previous COA recommendations about remedies and reforms that the province should undertake to avoid adverse audit findings, only one was ever implemented.
What happens if a province like Maguindanao simply ignores COA findings and recommendations? If more than PhP 70-million (USD 1.6 million) cash in bank and more than PhP 300-million (USD 6.8 million) in equipment and properties cannot be properly accounted for, then where did all the money go? These were findings only for 2009; what about the previous years? What other agencies should be involved in following through? What are the mechanisms for inter- and intra-agency cooperation?
On June 30, 2010, the term of the Independent Commission against Private Armies (ICAPA), created by the Arroyo Administration through Administrative Order 275 after the massacre quietly came to an end.
The ICAPA, created to oversee the dismantling of Philippine private armies and provide policy and action recommendations to the President and advise the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) and the Philippine National Police (PNP), has issued two resolutions, 001-10 and 002-10, on March 24, 2010. The resolutions directed the two institutions to “increase efforts to disband partisan armed groups in order to secure safe and credible elections in May 2010.”
According to the ICAPA the Philippine National Police has reported the existence of 117 private armed groups (PAG) with about 5,000 members in the Philippines with the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM) accounting for 25 of these groups.
The Human Rights Watch, an international human rights monitoring body, said in its 2010 report on the Maguindanao massacre entitled They Own the People that “the AFP took up several of these recommendations. It prepared an inventory of firearms provided to CAFGUs and Special CAFGUs, which it submitted to the PNP.”
Human Rights Watch also said that the AFP issued policy directives banning partisan political activities in military installations, prohibiting CAFGUs from working as bodyguards for politicians and providing sanctions for military personnel violating the election gun ban or engaging in partisan politics.
It also said that the ICAPA has reported that “as of May 2010, 35 out of the 107 existing private armed groups in the country had been dismantled by the police and military, with 130 members arrested and 127 firearms confiscated.”
But PNP intelligence officials have said that while a number of these PAGs have already been neutralized, many others remain active, waiting for things to quiet down a bit.
Shouldn’t the profiles of these “private armed groups” be made public? What about a more restrictive policy on the possession and carrying of firearms?
The Commission on Human Rights (CHR), a constitutional body tasked to investigate all forms of human rights violations, has regional and sub-regional offices all over the Philippines except in the ARMM.
After the mass killings in Maguindanao, the CHR issued an advisory “on the need for effective, timely, unequivocal and rights-based actions to protect human rights and bring violators to justice” underscoring that the massacre of 58 persons is a violation of the right to life and the security of person for every individual that was killed. It urged all relevant government bodies and branches “to vigorously perform their mandates in the Constitution and in law to bring the perpetrators to justice as soon as possible with due process of law and respect for the human rights of victims, suspects, witnesses, the families of victims, and possible informants.”
But while strongly lashing out at state-sanctioned militias and armed groups, the CHR’s own investigations were hampered by scant resources and the capacity of its own field personnel.
Shouldn’t the CHR also investigate and report abuses committed by the so-called “private armed groups” all over the country? Why not probe further persistent allegations of collusion between the Ampatuans and members of security forces?
On another track, similar questions are being asked of the Department of Justice (DOJ) by LIBERTAS, a group of lawyers undertaking a study on extrajudicial killings titled “Promoting Human Rights-Based Access to Justice: Lessons from the Maguindanao Massacre” supported by the Commission on Human Rights and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).
The study cited in particular the weakness of the DOJ’s Witness Protection Program (WPP) that has very stringent requirements made more cumbersome by a “long application process” and the absence of “support for the families of witnesses.”
Phrased as recommendations, the study asked:
Can’t the “WPP be amended to expand (coverage) of those who are qualified (including) the support it provides?” Why not “deputize civil society as implementers of WPPs?”
There still are other nagging questions about the horrific massacre, the Ampatuans and their stupendous wealth and wide-ranging influence, the obvious failure of democratic institutions to respond to a crisis, and local governments under the control of one clan. These are questions that clearly need answers such as why did the Commission on Elections (COMELEC) regional office direct the transfer of its office from Cotabato City to Sharif Aguak shortly before November 23, 2009? Who authorized the transfer and why with seeming haste?
The recent filing of plunder charges against the Ampatuans by families of the massacre victims, however, begs an even bigger question: Underlying all these is the issue of money, how it was amassed by one powerful clan, how it was used to subvert democratic institutions, how it is still being used to undermine the ongoing judicial process through varied and insidious ways such as intimidating witnesses (or making them disappear without a trace).
In the complaint filed by the victims’ families, they alleged that the Ampatuans, while holding public office, have amassed something like PhP 200 million (USD 4.5 million), a fleet of luxury vehicles, 35 mansions in Maguindanao, Davao and other places in the country, painting “a staggering picture of how one powerful clan could abuse their position of power and raid and plunder public coffers as if these were their private purse.”
The Philippines has a very long history of patron-client relationships with provincial leaders (mainly the caciques of yore) holding sway over the lives and dreams of their vassals and acknowledging loyalty and fealty by the latter’s ability to deliver the votes come election time. Things have not changed much: In areas like Maguindanao there exists what can best be described as a “democracy deficit” where people have no power at all to decide their future.
It has been a long-held observation that political bosses or kingpins in local areas are the makers of presidents and this has been the norm since the first election was held in 1935 and thus political power accrues to the former and nourishes the culture of impunity that so arrogantly spawned the aberration of November 23, 2009.
This is obviously one manifestation of how political corruption has become not simply insidious but metastatic as well, and one can only suspect two things: that those tasked to address this cancerous phenomenon have become comfortably part of the problem or have succumbed to the inertia of the anesthetized and overwhelmed.
While much of public and media attention has been focused on the trial proceedings and commemoration activities marking the massacre, scant notice has been given to issues like following up on the lifestyle check on the Ampatuan clan by the Office of the Ombudsman.
The way things are, there are many more questions than answers.
Where, for example does the money trail lead?
What happened to the investigation on the firearms and thousands of rounds of ammunition dug up in and around the Ampatuan mansion in Shariff Aguak?
Who benefited from the transactions aside from the clan?
What about the millions of pesos said to have been laundered through the accounts of Ampatuan relatives and allies?
What about the results of the COA audits on Maguindanao especially in relation to the use of public funds?
Even harder questions need to be asked, not just today but every time… or else find ourselves succumbing to a dangerous malady similar what the UNDP described in its 2008 report, Tackling Corruption, Transforming Lives: Accelerating Human Development in Asia and the Pacific:
“… the real price of corruption is not paid in currency at all. The true costs are eroded opportunities, increased marginalization of the disadvantaged, and feelings of injustice. The myth that nothing can be done to curb corruption seems to be nearly as pervasive as corruption itself.”
We must ask the questions…but more importantly we need to demand the answers: Now! Philippine Public Transparency Reporting Project
(The author is the executive director of the Center for Community Journalism and Development and the regional director for the Asia Pacific of the International News Safety Institute.)
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