What is military academy teaching?

What is military academy teaching?

Updated 11:22pm (Mla time) Nov 29, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 30, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


RECENT irregularities and scandals involving graduates of the Philippine Military Academy (PMA) bring up the question of the adequacy and relevance of the education our future military officers are getting at the PMA. Are they being educated and trained for service to country and fellowmen or for self-aggrandizement and service to self? And then again, the education they are getting may be good, but the examples some of their elders are setting may be far from ideal.

Instead of setting an example of honor, service and duty, many of their elders are showing that deceit, dishonesty and corruption pay great dividends. Instead of pursuing the ideal of service, many officers are lusting after power and pelf.

The example of recently retired Major General Carlos Garcia, who is accused of amassing unexplained wealth totaling P140 million, is the worst of several cases involving PMA graduates. Garcia is not the only one who is alleged to have made millions at the expense of the taxpayers and to the detriment of the enlisted men who subsist on starvation rations, wear tattered uniforms and worn-out shoes, carry rusty, old rifles and wear substandard helmets and "bullet-proof" vests. Garcia just had the misfortune of getting caught, largely because of the simple-mindedness of his wife. Other generals and colonels must have amassed fortunes of their own in the past and are still amassing them today. The generals' and colonels' raid on the public treasury began during the martial law days when the dictator Ferdinand Marcos coddled high-ranking officers because he needed them to prop up his martial law regime.

The examples set by the generals seem to have prompted lower-ranking officers to start their own "rackets." Corruption has become a way of life in the upper echelons of the military. Because of the example at the top, it is not surprising that no less than the valedictorian of PMA Class 2004, Second Lieutenant Rolly Joaquin, was caught switching the tag on a compact disc so that he could get a 50-cent discount at the commissary in Fort Benning in Georgia.

Joaquin had seen his elders get away with grand theft in the military and he probably thought that he could get away with a comparatively much lesser offense. But he did not reckon with the fact that the situation is not the same in the United States, where strict adherence to the law is the norm, and especially in a disciplined military.

What a pity! What waste! Here was a brilliant PMA graduate who had a promising career ahead of him, educated at the expense of P2.1 million in taxpayers' money, throwing away everything, all for a paltry sum. He could have become chief of staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines later in his career, but he chose to follow the bad example of some of his elders. An example of the deeds not matching the words taught at the academy.

The case of Major Ferdinand Ramos is different. No one is disputing that what one's sexual preferences are and what one does in the privacy of the bedroom is not the government's or the military's concern. But it becomes a public concern when it affects an officer's work in the military.

Homosexuality is not a crime, but it is an offense for a superior officer to force a subordinate soldier to do certain sexual acts, whether they are "normal" or "abnormal." The officer has moral ascendancy over the subordinate; he should exercise such ascendancy for good and not for evil purposes.

How low the PMA has fallen in its standards and to what depths has it plunged in the public esteem! It used to be known as the alma mater of strong men, courageous men, men of integrity, virile, virtuous men, but now it has become a breeding ground of many corrupt, materialistic, power-hungry officers.

The PMA curriculum may have to be reexamined and restructured to remedy flaws that may be discovered and to make it more relevant to the needs of the times. It has to instill a sense of honor, duty and service in its graduates, whose education is paid for by the taxpayers. The military is supposed to serve and protect the people, not to steal from them.

The PMA graduates now occupying high-ranking places in the military have to be constantly reminded of its motto: Courage, Integrity and Loyalty. Courage, including moral courage. Integrity, meaning the highest sense of honor and honesty. And loyalty not only to the PMA but, more importantly, to the country and its people. More than a restructuring of the PMA curriculum, a thorough reform of the officer corps, which is composed mostly of PMA graduates, may be called for, so that they will set a good example for the young ones. One teaches better not just by precept, but by example.

Ombudsman's next step

Ombudsman's next step

Updated 11:10pm (Mla time) Nov 28, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 29, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


LOST in the flurry of news reports over the Carlos Garcia scandal is the role the Ombudsman's office played in bringing it to light. If anything, critics have even taken Ombudsman Simeon Marcelo to task for failing to rush a plunder case against the former comptroller of the Armed Forces.

But it is enough to state for the record that the agency took action when the AFP brass procrastinated. And Marcelo's decision to investigate 10 more colonels and generals for alleged ill-gotten wealth proves either of two things: the agency's tough stance against military corruption was no fluke, or the agency is flexible enough to respond to public need.

To be sure, the public has had enough sorry experience with anti-corruption campaigns to know that an investigation is different from a case, and a case is worlds apart from a conviction. But as the World Bank-in awarding a P40-million grant to the agency-has itself recognized, the Ombudsman's conviction rate since 2001 has more than doubled from 6 to 14 percent (Marcelo was appointed to a seven-year term in October 2002). And the agency's use of the lifestyle check as an investigative tool has produced notable results, including the recent dismissal from office of a chief Customs officer and a veteran Bureau of Internal Revenue lawyer.

The agency has also filed criminal charges against Maj. Gen. Prospero Ocampo of the Air Force, for an anomalous fund conversion in 2002. Most tellingly, at least for those of us in the media who have closely followed the ups and downs of the tax credit scam over the years, the Ombudsman has also re-included Pacifico Cruz, former general manager of Pilipinas Shell Petroleum Corp., in the list of accused. The bold move corrects the injustice committed by the previous Ombudsman, Aniano Desierto, when he summarily dropped Cruz from the graft cases.

The Ombudsman's office is also investigating the alleged anomaly behind the construction of the billion-peso Diosdado Macapagal Boulevard in Pasay City.

This series of legal initiatives against some of the country's true centers of power-the military top brass, influential officials in Customs and the BIR, big business-fills us with reasonable hope. Again, we know that the mere deployment of the lifestyle check brigade is not a guarantee of conviction. But unlike Desierto's time in office, the agency seems ready to take on officials who have the power to strike back. For many, that is already proof that the country's graft-busters are serious this time.

(The jury is still out on the agency's performance in the Macapagal Boulevard case; the public knows that Marcelo is close to the First Family, and is watching him very closely.)

Seriousness of purpose is one thing; execution is another. With only 57 full-time lawyers, the agency needs serious help. Marcelo has in fact appealed to lawyers' groups to volunteer their services in "major cases." Just this month, for instance, he said he would need at least 10 volunteer lawyers to help in the Garcia case alone.

With a budget of less than P500 million in each of the last two years, the agency also needs a serious fund infusion. "Without sufficient manpower for the proper and reasonable distribution of heavy caseloads, the sought-after increase in the conviction rate and the elusive objective of finally catching the proverbial big fish would be far-fetched," its budget summary read. The agency is seeking a budget of around P900-million for next year, a sum it won't get.

To compensate for the lack of men and material, the Ombudsman has called on the general public to provide resources and reinforcements. "Ordinary citizens are angry at grafters in government. Instead of whining, we want them to channel their anger, to volunteer and monitor the bidding and implementation of government projects," Marcelo said.

Working with Boy Scouts and students, church organizations and civil society groups, is in truth the necessary next step. It is a risky one for the country, because frustrating the hopes of thousands of volunteers will set back anti-corruption drives by a generation. But it is also an essential one for the agency; if the agency does not take that step, it cannot hope to succeed.

'Okay for now'

'Okay for now'

Updated 03:11am (Mla time) Nov 28, 2004
Inquirer News Service


Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 28, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer



THE ESTIMATES varied, but if even the police chief for Metro Manila says the transport strike last Thursday "paralyzed" 80 percent of the transportation system in the National Capital Region, then it must be considered a success.

The post-strike statements also varied, with other transport group leaders continuing to press for a P2 "discount" in the price of diesel. But if the president of the Federation of Jeepney Operators and Drivers Associations of the Philippines, the main transport group behind the protest action, was ready to claim victory, then the first transport strike in years must be deemed to have succeeded.

"We agreed to call off the (transport) holiday because they told us that they will address our concerns," Fedjodap president Zenaida Maranan told reporters. The main agreement reached Thursday -- in a six-hour meeting in the relative quiet of Camp Crame -- was for the oil companies to grant a 50-centavo discount. Maranan said the discount was "okay for now."

Yesterday, some 150 gasoline stations started implementing the 50-centavo-per-liter arrangement. It is not a price rollback, not quite, because the discount applies only to public utility vehicles. (Seaoil announced it would also grant a modest discount on gasoline for taxicabs.)

But the "now" during which the 50-centavo discount is "okay" is perilously short. The transport groups said they will organize a much bigger "transport holiday" if, in the meeting scheduled for Tuesday, another 50-centavo discount is not granted.

"That's for sure," Maranan said.

In other words, the main transport groups that went on strike are ready to climb down from their P2-per-liter position, and to accept the discount, as it were, on an installment plan.


Okay for good?

EXCEPT for the question of timing, this seems a reasonable strategy. It is, as businessmen would say, a deal that's priced to move. But only if we define success narrowly, to the question of immediate relief.

If, as many strike leaders believe, success is defined as winning permanent relief from rising oil prices, then the transport groups will only suffer frustration. Because what they are in effect asking for is the repeal of an economic law. After all, the pressure on pump prices is the law of supply and demand hard at work.

After Thursday's meeting, Energy Secretary Vincent Perez said a technical working group would study the transport groups' demands, including the rollback of pump prices and the scrapping of the oil deregulation law.

Now a rollback, when called for, is within the realm of the possible. The oil industry in the Philippines, like many other basic industries, suffers from the economic phenomenon called ratcheting: price increases are easier to implement than price reductions. The price wheel moves smoothly going forward, but becomes sticky when being moved backward.

A more responsive government can help move that price wheel backward, essentially by lending its weight. When crude oil prices drop, the Department of Energy can encourage the country's oil companies to reduce pump prices accordingly, at the soonest feasible time. How this can be done is a fit subject for the technical working group to study.

Scrapping oil deregulation, however, is a completely different matter.

As a nation, we already have more than enough experience with a regulated oil industry to know that a market-oriented pricing system is much the lesser evil. Re-regulation-and by extension, a buffer mechanism such as the late, unlamented Oil Price Stabilization Fund-would mean artificially low pump prices funded by even-bigger government deficits.

Maranan and other transport strike leaders may want to postpone the inevitable, but in the end it will be their children, and ours, who will end up paying.

The very concept of a discount applicable only to public utility vehicles is a step in the right direction. But the notion of re-regulation is a giant leap backward.

Right moves

Right moves

Updated 01:59am (Mla time) Nov 27, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Publisehd on page A14 of the November 27, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer





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WHEN armed men seized Annetta Flanigan of Northern Ireland, Shqipe Hebibi of Kosovo and Angelito Nayan of the Philippines on a Kabul street last Oct. 28, they were obviously out to get something.

Afghan officials say that the group that seized the three was made up of criminals, though perhaps acting at the behest of a Taliban splinter group called Jaish-al Muslimeen. The officials say they negotiated with the kidnappers. Jaish-al Muslimeen, whose name means Army of Muslims, claimed in turn that Afghan authorities agreed to free 24 jailed comrades in return for the hostages' freedom. However, Afghan Interior Minister Ali Ahmad Jalali insisted that no prisoners were released, and no ransom paid, to secure the freedom of the three, who appeared last Wednesday with Afghan President Hamid Karzai. The former king of Afghanistan decorated the three former hostages, in an act of personal, not official, recognition.

In Las Piñas City, yellow ribbons were tied around trees, and streamers were hung by happy friends and family members. However, from the airport, the first stop of Angelito Nayan was not his home, but Malacañang, where he met President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo at Bonifacio Hall (formerly the Premier Guest House), and then made a statement in the Palace. Nayan's statement was brief, eloquent and touching, not least because of his earnest reminder to his countrymen that another Filipino remained in the hands of his captors. Robert Tarongoy remains a hostage in Iraq, where he has been held in captivity since Oct. 1.

The ordeal of Nayan brings to the fore so much that is characteristic of the Filipino. First is the talent possessed by so many Filipinos, including Nayan, who did outstandingly well in school, and belongs to a rising new generation of Filipino diplomats. Second is our ability to do well -- and be useful -- in practically every part of the globe. Third is the combination of humor, faith, optimism and resilience that not only allows individuals to overcome any ordeal, but which brings Filipinos of all ages and faiths and backgrounds together.

Nayan's experience was an outstanding example of national solidarity. It brought the government and the people together. Such solidarity is something Filipinos instinctively demonstrate in times of trouble, but which the government doesn't necessarily heed or embrace. Back in the days of the Flor Contemplacion tragedy, the citizenry came together in solidarity while the government feasted in London. When Angelo de la Cruz was taken hostage in Iraq, the government was at first stunned. Then it had to disentangle itself from an unpopular alliance and attempt to heed the public clamor for action to save his life.

Despite snafus such as the government radio station broadcasting 15 minutes of a secret briefing (resulting in the station manager being dismissed by the President), this time around, the government did the right thing right from the start. In naval terms, it "cleared the decks" for action. All the diplomatic and organizational expertise of the administration was mustered to support the United Nations' efforts to secure Nayan's release.

This goes to show that the Philippines does best when it works within the framework and umbrella of international organizations such as the UN. There is safety in numbers, after all. Nayan didn't have to contend with the doubts or skepticism from his countrymen, because he was doing a good job under the authority of the UN, which enjoys public support here. The government, in working with other nations, proved it was a good team player. The President, by mobilizing her officials to do all they could was living up to her oath and the everyday expectations of her countrymen who want presidents to attend personally to Filipinos in trouble abroad.

Nayan's release and homecoming did our country proud. For a change.

Now there is the remaining problem of Tarongoy, who remains a hostage in Iraq. The unraveling of the situation in that country is making even official efforts to help him very much more difficult. Unlike De la Cruz's case, however, the Philippines has fewer dilemmas to resolve as it tries to secure Tarongoy's freedom. Iraqi militants can no longer point to our military presence in their country. There is little we can do to satisfy further demands. We can only hope that reason will prevail and that his captors will prove to be as sensible as the Afghans who took Nayan.

Caving in

Caving in

Updated 01:23am (Mla time) Nov 26, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 26, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer



THE DRAMATIC decline in President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo's approval rating raises the alarm on the inflationary damage that continues to be inflicted on Filipinos by the seeming uncontrollable rise in world petroleum prices. While the problem may be beyond the government's control, it does not help its case for it to throw its hands up and declare its helplessness. It can do something, and that is to communicate well its message that it is doing something.

Inflation has proved to be the Waterloo of nearly all Philippine administrations since polling was begun in the early 1980s. Pulse Asia is a relative newcomer to the survey game, but in finding that Filipinos feel most strongly -- and are anxious -- about inflation, it merely reaffirmed the findings of surveys of other pollsters, notably the older Social Weather Stations, that Philippine presidents are most vulnerable when the public feels the pinch of higher prices.

Ms Arroyo cannot presume that she is impervious to the highs and lows of public approval and popularity. There are historical parallelisms in fact between her and the first woman president, Corazon Aquino, who was the first Philippine president to have been subjected to the rigors of surveys simply because her predecessor, the dictator Ferdinand Marcos, brooked no dissent, much less scientific surveys.

Like Cory Aquino riding on the crest of the euphoria of the People Power Revolution, Ms Arroyo enjoyed some amount of goodwill after winning the May 10 election. But the fact that she was somewhat a re-electionist, having served for three years after replacing Joseph Estrada abruptly in 2001, the impression that she used government resources to further her political prospects -- a wink at the wisdom of the 1987 Constitution that banned presidential reelection, and having to contend with a spoilsport opposition that has refused to concede and has even threatened to contest her victory -- should indicate that whatever honeymoon she would have with the people would be short-lived.

And much like Aquino, Ms Arroyo has had to contend with the wrenching effects of a political and economic transition in order to unmake the depredations, the corruption and the mismanagement of the past. She has to rein in the military that, like the one during Aquino's time, may have been trying to cash in on its bowing to the popular will during the EDSA People Power II revolution. She also has to make tradeoffs with politicians and sycophants.

To her misfortune, the President has had to preside over a nation reeling from severe oil price shocks and natural calamities. The confluence of oil politics and disasters has fueled inflation and deprivation, a state of untold wretchedness that was somewhat articulated, albeit in dry statistical terms, when a recent survey showed that most Filipinos can hardly afford to eat three meals a day.

What aggravates all of this is the petty tactics of petty potentates who are insensitive to the mood of the times. Amid so much poverty and suffering, top military officers have been exposed to have amassed fabulous wealth out of military funds. And the military seemed at first to be attempting to whitewash the matter, and may have only relented to civilian prosecution in order to buy time. What case of military corruption has really been effectively prosecuted? None in our time.

Meanwhile, in the House of Representatives, the lawmakers have voted to keep their pork barrel intact. And to hell with the fiscal deficit and the sputtering economy.

Alas, to the President's further political misery, the country risks a downscaling of its credit standing, competitiveness and productivity by leading analysts in the West. Overall, this means that the Philippines would become less and less an interesting place for foreign business to invest. A dangerous plunge in investments would mean less business, fewer jobs, and more poverty and misery. Funny how seemingly dry and faceless numbers, such as inflation and investment prospects, seem to be delivering untold human costs to the Philippines.

The President should gather her lieutenants now, map out a broad strategy and a whole range of practical and effective measures, deliver the goods, and communicate well the message: The government is on top of the situation, it knows the score, and it is doing something, fast.

Shameless

Shameless

Updated 03:47am (Mla time) Nov 25, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 25, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer



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MEMBERS of Congress have nothing to be ashamed of, Davao del Sur Representative Douglas Cagas said. "Go to our provinces, and the people will say it is something good," Cagas added as he defended the decision of the House of Representatives to retain in next year's budget all of the P70-million pork barrel they have been voting for each of them each year in the last few years.

Coming from Cagas that pronouncement isn't surprising. After all he is the same lawmaker who recently hailed as a "hero" the chair of the appropriations committee, Camarines Sur Representative Rolando Andaya Jr., after the latter assured the House that every member would get his pork barrel intact.

Besides, shame is the last thing people expect from the lawmakers who have insisted, that with or without a financial crisis, they are entitled to continue feasting on pork. Defying a widespread public clamor to give up the graft-ridden pork barrel, House members, including the party-list representatives who once denounced it, said their constituents needed it and wanted it. One congressman said their "primordial concern" in fighting for their pork barrel was "the welfare of their constituents."

They must have a tiny constituency, indeed. The biggest beneficiaries of the pork barrel can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Senator Panfilo Lacson, one of the few members of Congress who have given up their pork barrels, has provided details on how a lucky few profit from it. When a project is funded by the pork barrel, Lacson said, the legislator usually gets 20 percent of the cost of the project in kickbacks. The district engineer and other public works official get 10 percent; the governor or mayor, 5 to 10 percent; the “barangay” [village or neighborhood district] council chair, 2 percent; and the auditor, another 2 percent. Since the contractor also has to earn something, all that is left for the project is about 40 percent of the money allocated for it.

If Lacson's estimates are correct, then each House member must be pocketing as much as P14 million yearly from the pork barrel or P42 million over one three-year term. This probably explains why congressmen find it difficult to give up position as well as why they get reelected from one term to the next until they have to pass on the position to the wife or husband or one of the children.

Not surprisingly, too, House members now talk openly about their intense craving for pork as well as its misuse. For instance, Compostela Valley Representative Manuel Zamora, who rides a bike to attend sessions, admits (in jest, of course) that he accepts whatever contractors are willing to give since he is a mere “butiki” [house lizard]. But there are “bayawak” [iguanas] in the House who gobble up as much as 50 percent of the pork, he says. Ironically, Zamora made these revelations while urging the people to stop criticizing the pork barrel since they are like "manna from heaven" to those living in far-flung provinces.

Andaya, the head of the appropriations committee, talks about the P70-million allocation for each member as if it were small change. "Slim pickings," he calls it. "Crumbs don't make a feast."

But with 236 House members, those crumbs add up to P16.2 billion. Throw in the P200-million pork allocation for each senator and you have a mountain of crumbs worth more than P20 billion. Hardly slim pickings by any measure, and a monstrous misallocation of funds, given the P200-billion deficit projected for this year and the P5.4-trillion debt of the government and government institutions.

It was precisely to help stave off a financial crisis that the call was made for Congress to give up the pork barrel. That was supposed to be the lawmakers' contribution to the national effort to cut costs and raise revenues to narrow the budget deficit and shrink the public debt.

After declaring that the country was in the midst of a financial crisis, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo announced a number of cost-saving measures, including the streamlining of the bureaucracy. Then she announced the creation of about a dozen new offices with ill-defined functions. Now it is Congress' turn to act as if the twin problems of a widening deficit and mounting debts have been licked.

In the meantime, the citizens were told they would have to pay more in taxes, particularly on cigarettes and liquor and even oil products. They were also told to bear with the higher costs of electricity and water. All in the name of taming the runaway deficit and reducing the public debt. Apparently Malacañang and Congress want the Filipino people to foot the bill in full and make all the sacrifices.

Who calls the shots?

Who calls the shots?

Updated 01:18am (Mla time) Nov 24, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 24, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


LEADERS at the recently concluded APEC Summit rolled out a communiqué with four resolutions. The first, and most important proclaimed terrorism a hindrance to economic growth. Because of this, APEC countries pledged themselves to take unified action by protecting food stocks, building up adequate petroleum reserves, improving the safety of commercial flights, firming up shipping security and preventing the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. The leaders took pains to say they would work together to close off avenues for terrorist funding by tightening regulations on the international transfer of funds as well as against money laundering.

The other three resolutions expressed the leaders' commitment to reduce the disparities among their economies, stamp out corruption, and lower global trade barriers under the auspices of the World Trade Organization.

Overall, the communiqué was testimony to most of the participating countries falling in line behind the twin obsessions of the newly reelected president of the United States: terrorism and the WTO.

US President George W. Bush, in fact, spent most of his time lobbying fellow leaders to put pressure on North Korea, which may or may not have put off the Chinese, who are still allies of the eccentric North Korean government. The lavish state dinner, which was planned as the culminating activity of the summit, was cancelled when Chinese officials refused to submit to US Secret Service security demands, including having dignitaries pass through metal detectors. Instead of being simply a case of over-sensitivity, the scuttling of the state dinner by China sends the message that it is increasingly prepared to flex its diplomatic and military muscle in the region.

However, for the time being (or until the next APEC summit in South Korea, when Russia will most likely be admitted as a new member, adding yet another power increasingly eager to compete with the United States), America calls the shots. Soon after the summit ended, Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi began issuing statements critical of North Korea. The Philippine government, officially given the cold shoulder by the US president, milked the seating arrangement that saw President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo seated beside Bush at a dinner for all it was worth. This can only indicate the return of the slavish pro-Washington agenda of the administration.

This is, indeed, the challenge posed by the APEC leaders' communiqué. Will it be concerted action solely according to the dictates of Washington, or will it be a genuine multinational effort to address common concerns? Any Filipino who has seen the large "War Risk Tax" levied on plane tickets knows the heavy price of terrorism on the global economy. Trying to keep everybody safe is fine, but how will such safety be achieved? Malaysian Prime Minister Abdullah Badawi said it should be achieved by better understanding the roots of terrorism, something our country should be echoing. Instead, it's almost certain we will see Manila increasingly trying to whistle Washington's latest tunes.

If dealing with terrorism poses a challenge, the renewed APEC commitment to WTO presents an equally clear and present danger. The Philippines, whether out of opportunism or genuine conviction (the collapse of negotiations in Cancun, due to a rebellion by developing countries led in part by Brazil), joined in the wave of pride and joy that swept the nations of the Third World when the WTO negotiations broke down. In the wake of the refusal of developing countries to simply accept the dictates of industrialized nations, American prestige suffered a big blow. Even industrialized nations later grew angry when the United States, too, decided to flout trade agreements by protecting American steelworkers and lumber producers, to the disadvantage of Europe and Canada.

The question is whether the Philippines will pay lip service to the Santiago communiqué, or whether it will, once again, accept the WTO prescription hook, line and sinker. As of now, the Philippines remains in the camp of developing nations that refuse to drop their economic defenses until the European Union and the United States decrease or eliminate their unfair agricultural subsidies and begin acting with greater respect for the rules that are supposed to apply to all.

Once again, the country has a choice between being a lackey of a big power, or trying to chart its own course, in the company of countries caught in a similar situation.

Climate of impunity

Climate of impunity

Updated 11:57pm (Mla time) Nov 22, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the November 23, 2004 issue of Philippine Daily Inquirer.


THE KILLING of journalists is continuing unabated and the death toll has reached an alarming level. In just four days, from Nov. 12 to 15, two journalists were killed. The recent deaths raise the toll to 59 in the last 18 years since democracy was restored in 1986, or an average of three a year. Compare that with the 32 journalists slain in 14 years of Ferdinand Marcos' martial law rule, and tell us if that's not alarming.

The latest victims were Gene Boyd Lumawag, a photographer of MindaNews, who was slain in Jolo, Sulu, on Nov. 12; and Herson Hinolan, station manager of Radyo Bombo in Kalibo, Aklan, who was killed on Nov. 15.

The killings continue unabated because the climate of impunity has not been shattered. A journalist is killed, but after the initial hue and cry, the usual press statements and calls for investigation, his case is soon forgotten. He becomes just another statistic in the worsening record of criminality in the country.

The climate of impunity encourages masterminds and assassins to continue picking off journalists almost at leisure. The killers think: We're not going to be punished for it, so we're going to silence and kill those media men whose exposés have put us in a bad light.

Of the pre-martial law killings of journalists, only two have been solved: the murder in 1966 of Ermin Garcia Sr., publisher of the Sunday Punch of Dagupan City, and the slaying in 1967 of Antonio Abad Tormis of Cebu City.

In only one of the cases since 1986 has a suspect been arrested. The victim was Edgar Damalerio of the Scribe and Mindanao Gold Star of Pagadian City in Mindanao, who was slain on May 13, 2003. The suspected gunman, Police Officer-1 Guillermo Wapile, was arrested some time ago, but he soon escaped from police custody. He surrendered last Sept. 14 after the media protested against the apparent laxity of the police. But even while in detention, he is reported to be using his followers to harass the witnesses and the family of the victim.

The death toll of journalists was biggest in Mindanao, with 28. Second was Luzon with 16; third was the Visayas with nine; and last was Metro Manila with six. What the figures show is that community journalists are more vulnerable to assassins. This is so because the government officials, politicians and other public figures whom they criticize or whose wrongdoings they expose take their stories and commentaries personally. Cities and towns are tightly knit communities where everybody knows everybody else and one loses face when one's wrongdoings are exposed in the media.

Government officials, politicians and public figures in Metro Manila have recourse to the courts and file libel or damage suits if they feel they have been aggrieved or hurt by the media. But similar public figures in the provinces are more impatient and hotheaded; they feel they must avenge themselves immediately and thus either personally kill the hated journalist or take out "a contract" on him.

What must be done to stop the killings of journalists?

First, put an end to the climate of impunity that encourages the killing of journalists by going after the masterminds and killers, arresting them, prosecuting them, convicting them and making sure that they serve out their sentences.

Second, improve the performance of the police in solving crimes. The police have to do better intelligence work if they are to catch the masterminds and killers in the slaying of journalists. Also, in certain cases, collusion between the police and government officials, politicians or public figures involved in the slaying of journalists must be stopped.

Third, improve the system of dispensation of justice and hasten the adjudication of cases. The saying that "justice delayed is justice denied" is especially true in the cases of the more than 90 journalists who have been killed since pre-martial law days.

Fourth, set deadlines for the solution of the cases of slain journalists and make the police and prosecutors accountable for the arrest, prosecution and conviction of the killers.

Fifth, get the people, and particularly media men themselves, sufficiently aroused so that they would put continuous pressure on the authorities to solve the cases of slain journalists.

The people should realize that the killing of journalists is a real threat to freedom of the press, and ultimately, to their freedom. Until such time when journalists can be assured of protection from vindictive news subjects and of justice when something violent or fatal has been done to them, we cannot call the press truly free. And unless the press is truly free, we cannot have true democracy.

Pork's spilled beans

Pork's spilled beans

Updated 01:09am (Mla time) Nov 22, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 22, 2004 issue of Philippine Daily Inquirer.


AT THE HEIGHT of the fiscal crisis scare three short months ago, a disturbing thought occurred to us. Perhaps we were all being taken for a ride. Perhaps the people were once again unwitting bit players in an elaborate, ultimately pointless, zarzuela.

The fiction did not lie in the declaration of a fiscal crisis; if anything, President Macapagal-Arroyo's candid admission came late. Economists here and financial analysts abroad had already raised serious questions about the government's capacity to pay its obligations. The warning from the 11 economists of the University of the Philippines that, in two or three years, obligations may finally outstrip capacity only served to place the problem in plain sight.

The fiction lay in the theatrics over the pork barrel.

In August, the President bowed to growing public clamor and asked Congress to reduce the pork barrel (the Priority Development Assistance Fund, in the Orwellian language of the national budget) by 40 percent. Our noble congressmen agonized dramatically, but eventually "approved in principle" a 38-percent reduction. A proud Speaker Jose de Venecia declared: "All of a sudden, everyone has become a statesman."

But the difficulty the Arroyo administration encountered in both chambers of Congress, in pushing the passage of the eight revenue bills it said were needed to meet the fiscal crisis, provoked not a little skepticism. It was the failure of Congress to deliberate on the 2005 national budget with appropriate urgency, however, that heightened our suspicions. Perhaps the slow approach was by design? If the proposed General Appropriations Act for 2005 is not passed in time, then the current budget is reenacted. (Actually, the current national budget is for 2003; it was reenacted for 2004 because our always-assiduous legislators ran out of time.)

What happens when the budget is reenacted? The 40-percent reduction in the pork barrel does not take effect. The PDAF stays at P70 million per congressman.

Like we said, a disturbing thought. Our beloved congressmen get to have their multimillion-peso cake and eat it too.

Early this month, the President made the startling announcement that the fiscal crisis was in fact over. The wild beast she had seen lurking in the shadows was now fully domesticated. Apparently, the non-passage of any of the eight revenue measures and the outpouring of concern and support from citizens across the country were enough to tame it.

At first, we couldn't make heads or tails of the announcement. A former top official in the Arroyo administration told the Inquirer that he too couldn't "understand the President's game." Not only was the President's declaration of victory premature. It was also highly dangerous, because it risked creating the very complacency that would put victory out of reach.

We couldn't understand it either, until that revealing exchange on the floor of the House last Wednesday between appropriations committee chair Rolando Andaya Jr. and Davao del Sur Rep. Douglas Cagas.

Cagas: "My question is: Next 2005, will we have the same pork barrel development projects for our districts which we have now at P70 million?"

Andaya replied in the affirmative, concluding: "After due consultation with [other congressmen], a vast majority have directed and requested the committee on appropriations, through the chairman, to retain the same level."

"Thank you," Cagas responded. "You are a hero."

A hero, indeed. At a time when the country's fiscal problems cannot be hidden from those with eyes to see and ears to hear, when political will is money in the bank or pogi points with international credit rating agencies, Andaya and Cagas and the rest have placed their personal and political interest ahead of the nation's.

In raising his pork barrel question, Cagas inadvertently revealed the true nature of the pork barrel zarzuela. "Your answer will hasten the approval of this budget or delay it," he had warned Andaya. His question, in other words, was all about how to keep the pork barrel at P70 million. If the answer was negative, then a delay in approval and thus a reenacted budget was the way to go. If the answer was positive, then a new budget would do the trick. Apparently, inside every one of De Venecia's statesmen is a patronage politician struggling, very successfully, to get out.

Down the drain?

Down the drain?

Updated 01:41am (Mla time) Nov 21, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 21, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


LAST year, the Bangko Sentral recorded over $7.6 billion in remittances from Filipinos working overseas. If remittances coursed through informal channels are included, many economists believe, the total may even be double that amount. But a recently released Asian Development Bank study revealed that much of that money must have had a less-than-lasting effect on the economy.

In a sense, this finding is counter-perceptual: Who has not returned to the province to see an all-concrete house, built by an overseas contract worker's money, rising in the middle of one's hometown? But those houses stand out not only because they are made of cement; they stand out because they are all too few.

The ADB study, titled "Enhancing the efficiency of overseas workers remittances," found that much of the remittance inflow paid for consumables. A key paragraph (warning: economic jargon ahead!) reached a discouraging conclusion: "Beneficiary household decision makers allocated their remittance income to food, utilities and other expenses for household operations, personal care and effects, communications and transportation. In terms of value, however, monetary allocations were highest for food consumed at homes and education. It is noted, however, that aside from household expenses, allocations for fiestas and expenses for special occasions were also observed."

In other words, and with the exception of school-related expenses, the bulk of remittances went to daily necessities and the occasional fiesta splurge. (We must include cellular phones as a necessity, because for families separated by thousands of miles, cell phones actually represent an improvement in the quality of life.)

So far, so understandable. The reason many Filipinos (as much as 10 percent of the entire population) leave to work abroad-the reason, for instance, why teachers with master's degrees accept assignments as maids in Hong Kong or caregivers in Israel-is poverty. They leave precisely to help the families they left behind pay for the daily necessities: to put food on the table, to have enough money to ride the bus, to pay for water and electricity, to buy soap.

What, we may well ask, is wrong with that?

Only that OFW families invariably find themselves running hard merely to stay in place. The social costs of working abroad are severe; an OFW family that neglects to send the children to school or build a better home bit by bit or fund a small business may end up with the fancy component system with the latest sub-woofers, but not much else. In other words, they go through the emotional upheaval of migration, only to find that at the end of it they are back where they started-still looking for the money to pay for daily necessities.

On one level, it is the responsibility of the overseas worker to build a nest's egg, either by saving some of the money or investing it, say in the children's education, real estate, or a family business. The business community or other parts of civil society may have a role in encouraging the OFW to plan for his future, but the responsibility is his.

On another level, however, it is the responsibility of the government to put the billions of dollars in remittances to more productive use.

Consider the following, from the first paragraph of the study: "Migrant remittances represent the most direct, immediate and far-reaching benefit to migrants and their countries of origin. They are a more constant source of income to developing countries than official development assistance, foreign direct investment and other private flows."

The government's work is thus cut out for it. It must encourage more remittances to go legal and flow through the formal banking system. It must strengthen the link between development in the provinces, where two-thirds of all workers come from, and countryside financial institutions, such as rural banks and cooperatives. It must accept the challenge of foreign banks to securitize the remittance inflow to fund development projects or support microfinance institutions.

Only thus will more all-concrete houses rise in the countryside.

Old story

Old story

Updated 00:55am (Mla time) Nov 20, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 20, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


THE INITIAL findings of a recent study conducted by End Child Prostitution, Child Pornography and Trafficking of Children for Sexual Purposes (Ecpat), a nongovernment advocacy group, no longer come as a surprise. They only confirm that prostitution in the Philippines is indeed a worsening problem; and, just like leaving the country to earn a living abroad, it has become a means of survival for thousands and thousands of Filipino families long struggling to at least keep their heads above a deepening poverty.

One finding--although already public knowledge and an accepted fact--especially stands out: the recruiters of sex workers, especially children are "immediate family members [or] people known to family and friends." This speaks volumes not only about how desperate many of our poor have become but also about how poverty has corrupted the moral values of the only predominantly Christian nation in Asia.

Consider this: In the 1990s, there were already between 40,000 and 100,000 child prostitutes in the Philippines. These figures do not include prostitutes above the age of 16. And not all of them were female; a substantial number were very young boys. The Ecpat study says many of them found themselves in Malaysia and Japan. In fact, to be referred to as a "Japayuki," a term referring to Filipina entertainers in Japan, does not exactly invite respect in a community. And if it is any indication as to how serious the problem of prostitution has become, inspirational writer Paulo Coelho has a Filipina prostitute plying her trade between Brazil and Switzerland in one of his best-selling books, "11 Minutes."

Just as it has been known as a leading provider of domestic helpers, Christian Philippines is also fast becoming known as a primary source of prostitutes. Such reputation has brought into our shores not only a steady stream of pedophiles masquerading as foreign tourists; it has also drawn perverts masquerading as foreign investors.

Inquirer columnist Rina Jimenez-David has observed that "cybersex" could be "the fastest-growing segment of the sex industry in the country." Edu Manzano, chair of the Optical Media Board, after raiding a cybersex facility in Angeles, Pampanga, expressed shock upon discovering that "40 percent of all the materials we confiscate now consists of child pornography" and that an increasing number of sex videos are made in the Philippines with Filipino children as "actors." Many, if not most, of the producers of these revolting pornographic materials are said to be foreigners. It is believed that because of the proliferation of these materials, more Filipinos have become pedophiles themselves.

The Ecpat study notes that the recruiters of the sex workers have "indications of guilt but they often justify it by saying they are helping the family [and] helping alleviate poverty in the community." There are also those who want prostitution to be legalized--accepting it as a "fact of life," the oldest profession that mankind has been stuck with "since time immemorial" and cannot do away with till kingdom come--if only "to prevent the spread of sexually transmitted diseases." By the same logic, counter those opposed to the idea, illegal drugs and some crimes should be legalized because we cannot completely stop them.

Is the government really helpless in containing prostitution? It has been pointed out that the Philippines already has one of the most stringent laws against child prostitution, but enforcement of such laws leaves much to be desired. The general perception is that this is so because influential public officials have always been among the most generous patrons of prostitutes (take the case of Keanna Reeves and former Rep. Romeo Jalosjos) if they are not themselves members of prostitution syndicates. Thus prostitution fronts, among them nightclubs and KTV bars, quickly go back to business after being raided by the police.

It is an old story really, one that we have heard through generations--only with different casts of characters and with a growing number of children of tender age brazenly and alarmingly being victimized. It is time our national and local officials attended to this problem with greater urgency and resolve. For, indeed, prostitution erodes the moral fiber of society and destroys a person's self-respect and dignity.

Misuse of the military

Misuse of the military

Updated 00:47am (Mla time) Nov 19, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 19, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


REGARDLESS of whether there were agents provocateurs in the Hacienda Luisita picket, it is unforgivable that military men were made to keep the peace. Predictably, they made a wreck of it. Here is another slapstick, if not tragic, variant of, "Where are the police when you need them?"

Well, the police were with the military. We don't know if they were hiding under the fatigue skirts of the soldiers. What we know is that military men were there, firing their guns at the picketers and just about whomever came within shooting sight.

It could also be that the policemen were, like their military counterparts, firing away to their hearts' content. But if they had not been backed up or even led by the military, then there would be no accusation that the workers' picket as in the one in Luisita had been "militarized." Moreover, the affair would have been less trigger-happy, less bloody, since the police are presumably more capable of handling civil disturbances.

This is not to absolve the ranks of the workers who might indeed have hidden provocateurs and agitators within their ranks. For all intents and purposes, the picket might have been illegal and carried out by elements that didn't exactly have a stake in industrial peace in Luisita, but had a stake in the confusion that anarchist violence foments in order to give way for what the Marxists pompously call a "revolutionary situation," rife for a power grab, whatever that means.

In fact, the United Luisita Workers Union, the certified bargaining agent of the hacienda workers, has denied it initiated the picket that forced a stoppage of the Luisita sugar refinery. A union leader said that despite the difficult CBA negotiation, there was no deadlock to signal a strike. In fact, there was no strike vote.

Workers and unionists belonging to another union led the picket. If this is true, then the Luisita fracas may be one of those variants of a peculiarity in Philippine unionism: union raiding. Union-raiding explains why organized labor in the Philippines is a joke: Unionists don't exactly organize workers-they prefer to organize the organized by raiding another union or pulling the rug from under the certified bargaining agent. This indicates another uniquely Philippine unionist phenomenon: Most of our union bosses are lawyers! Philippine unionism is led by ambulance chasers!

But considering the complexity of Philippine unionism, including its apparent tendency toward picket violence, shouldn't labor authorities and law enforcers have evolved by now a code of engagement that would lessen the violence and the bloodshed and enhance the prospects for industrial peace and dispute resolution?

Alas, it seems that civilian authorities and law enforcers continue to respond to civil disturbances or possibilities of such in a haphazard manner. Worse, they seem to have always relied on the practice of deputizing and dispatching the military to quell civil turmoil, a practice of the repressive martial law era.

More than 10 years after the abolition of the Philippine Constabulary-Integrated National Police and the creation of a police force that is "national in scope and civilian in character," public safety and order remains only nominally in the hands of the police. This is not to say that there's a Constabulary hangover in the Philippine National Police (PNP). It merely means that the PNP has not entirely weaned itself away from its military past, proof that the old habits of a former repressive era refuse to die.

It could be said, of course, that the warped land-lease situation in Luisita, in which the farmers and workers supposedly own the land but have leased it to the Luisita landlords in the rather twisted compromise stipulated by the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Law, is another proof of the feudal resiliency that belongs to the same repressive past. But this is not the issue at the moment.

The issue is how to apply judiciously and competently state powers on labor disputes with the view to enhancing industrial peace without compromising public safety. For a nation that has had an ugly, traumatic brush with a military dictatorship, it is obvious that there's a need to let civilian ways of doing things do their work competently and effectively. But it seems our authorities haven't learned their lesson. Or do they still cling romantically to the fascist past?

Bad start

Bad start

Updated 01:29am (Mla time) Nov 18, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the November 18, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


LAST Tuesday, a “rigodon” [rigadoon] of sorts took place between civilians and military men. Maj. Gen. Carlos F. Garcia was taken by the military to the Sandiganbayan anti-graft court, where he faces perjury charges before four of the court's divisions, three of which had issued warrants for his arrest. At the Sandiganbayan, Garcia posted P24,000 in bail. Court personnel fingerprinted him. Mug shots were taken. Then the court agreed to release him into the custody of Col. Henry Galarpe, the Armed Forces provost marshal. We call it a rigodon because the handing over to civilian hands, and handing back to military hands, of Garcia was not the result of all sides working together to get the wheel of justice turning but of presidential intervention.

Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Efren Abu did not want to hand over Garcia to the Sandiganbayan. His reason was, on the surface, admirable in its rigor: He didn't want Garcia allowed to post bail and possibly skip town. But as it turned out, after President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo ordered Garcia placed under the jurisdiction of the Sandiganbayan, the court easily (and legally) gave the AFP custody over Garcia anyway.

So instead of the AFP acting true to Abu's declarations that he wanted to clean up the AFP, it now appears that the President had to practically strong-arm the military to place one of its own under civilian jurisdiction. Instead of appearing anxious to do everything to ensure Garcia's prosecution, the military has appeared more interested (yet again) in coddling one of its own.

As events proved, cooperation could easily have been achieved from the very start. Abu's fears of a public relations disaster if Garcia had used the civilian courts to post bail and flee justice were entirely unfounded. Incidentally, fears that civilian proceedings might derail the military court martial, and vice versa, are unfounded, too.

The Sandiganbayan will try Garcia on perjury charges arising from alleged misdeclarations in his Statement of Assets, Liabilities and Net Worth for the years 1997 up to 2000. The military, on the other hand, is trying him for violating the Articles of War: for conduct unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman (something only the military can determine and judge), and for allegedly failing to declare all his assets for the years 2002 and 2003 (the years not covered by the Sandiganbayan charges), and for acquiring and holding a US immigrant status. At the same time, the Ombudsman has gotten into the act, investigating Garcia on possible charges of plunder. By no stretch of the imagination can Garcia be considered to be facing double jeopardy, that is, being tried more than once for the same charge. Indeed, on the question of double jeopardy, Justice Secretary Raul Gonzalez says it can be easily avoided if the prosecutors make sure that Garcia's court martial is confined to violations of the Articles of War, leaving the plunder case to the Sandiganbayan.

In military terms, the prosecution of Garcia involves a pincer movement. He is being attacked from two sides, involving the military and civilian courts of justice. The military and the civilian courts are trying him for different things, though some of the charges may be similar (they involve prosecution involving similar documents, but not, for example, identical documents).

Regardless of what Garcia does in his own defense, it is important for the government to keep ensuring the smooth cooperation of the military and civilian prosecutors and courts. The country cannot afford a legal wrangle between military and civilian government lawyers over who gets to try Garcia for what. As it stands, the division of charges, so to speak, is sensible and clear. It affords the government every opportunity to successfully prosecute Garcia. It also allows Garcia to methodically dispute the charges.

The military, though, must remain conscious of the fact that even if does not intend to do so, its actions can easily be misconstrued as coddling an accused officer. The military could have been more proactive, for example, in actively working out an arrangement whereby it keeps physical custody of Garcia, while being seen to be eager to submit him to civilian jurisdiction as well. Either the President was too impatient, or the matter could only be resolved by her intervention. If it was the former, then the military needs to explain itself better to its commander in chief. If it was the latter, then the military was indeed coddling Garcia. Either way, things got off to a bad start.

Retail politics

Retail politics

Updated 01:20am (Mla time) Nov 17, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 17, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


RECENT administration overtures to Sen. Edgardo Angara indicates a government attempting wholesale unity in retail style. Angara himself supports the wholesale view by issuing statements such as the one saying he "was not carrying the minority ... the invitation was to the LDP party." This was in response to complaints by other oppositionists that he's kept them out of the loop by not referring the administration offer to them.

If the administration wants the Laban ng Demokratikong Pilipino (LDP), and not just Angara, in its tent, can this still be called a wholesale effort at unity? Angara says President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is interested in his party, and not just him. Political developments seem to indicate that Angara may actually be in a position to bring his party (or what's left of it) with him. But a confluence of administration intent and LDP opportunism does not indicate a broader national unification effort. It only means an LDP-Lakas-Liberal Party coalition.

It is wrong to confuse the courting of Angara with some sort of political evolution for the country. Malacañang, with its pro-parliamentary instincts, certainly wants to promote this as the first signs of future governance by inter-party coalition. But it should be pointed out that only Angara was approached; there has been no news of any other LDP stalwarts being approached, and Angara has shown no inclination to even make a show of consulting his partymates. Thus, the Palace overtures to Angara were in the tried and true personalistic tradition of Philippine politics, and nothing new.

Malacañang seems to think it needs Angara, who, politically speaking, it makes pragmatic sense to have on the administration side. However, wanting Angara does not give the administration an excuse to claim it as a victory for unity. This is retail politics.

The Palace wants Angara, and all signs indicate that it will get him. Not the least because what the Palace wants, Angara wants, too. But we repeat that it would be wrong to give it a greater significance than it deserves. It is clear that the Palace moves involve Angara alone and no larger cause. It certainly should not be cloaked as a means for national unity.

For the truth is that Angara is not a unifier. Former President Joseph Estrada avoided resignation upon his advice, and it was Angara's diary that led to a judicial construction that armed the opposition with a claim to continued legitimacy. He divided the opposition in the May elections by endorsing one of the most unqualified presidential candidates in our history. Since the election, he has seemed less interested in opposition harmony and more in his continued importance in the system. That he has managed to keep himself important is a testimony to his cleverness and strategic sense.

In the end, in getting what it wants, the Palace will gain a useful operative, while Angara will get a new lease on political life. The administration majority in the Senate will be stronger, but with the reduction in their number, each senator will be that much more difficult to manage. The cause of national unity will be badly served, because Angara's defection will only convince the remaining members of the opposition that he was a traitor to their cause always.

Angara's willingness to jump ship is also testimony to a long-standing bad habit among senators, which is to turn their back on a national mandate in order to achieve personal political gain. The people of the Philippines elected our senators for a fixed term and for certain purposes. For a senator to relinquish membership in an independent branch in order to play ball with a President is to turn one's back on a solemn duty.

Criminal neglect

Criminal neglect

Updated 10:41pm (Mla time) Nov 15, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 16, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


THE DERAILMENT of a Philippine National Railways train last Saturday in which at least six people were killed and 158 injured brings up five issues and problems.

The first is the criminal negligence of some people involved in railway operations, in particular, and of those in the transport industry in general.

The second (which is related to the first) is the low regard of Filipinos for human life.

The third is the lack of a security system to keep people off the railroad tracks for their own safety and to safeguard the railways from malicious mischief, theft and sabotage.

The fourth is the culture of impunity and forgetfulness that allows people responsible for the loss of scores, if not hundreds or thousands of human lives, to get off scot-free, without even so much as a slap on the wrist.

The fifth is the criminal neglect of our transport infrastructure and facilities and the crying need for the rehabilitation and modernization of the railway system.

Again, it appears that gross negligence was one of the major causes of the railroad accident in Padre Burgos, Quezon, last Saturday. The train engineer must have known that the train was negotiating a curve and going over slippery rails. And yet he drove the train at 70 kilometers per hour when he had been told to slow down to 20 kph. The engineer, after due hearing, should be made to answer to the full extent of the law for the death of six people and injuries to 158.

The accident again underscores the Filipinos' low regard for human life. There is no great outrage over the negligence of the train engineer and the other people operating the train. After the initial press statements, the accident is going to be forgotten. One big instance of the people's forgetfulness is the case of the sinking of the MV Doña Paz, the world's biggest maritime disaster, in which about 4,000 people died. Up to now justice has not been obtained for the 4,000 dead.

Because of the lack of public outrage, the lack of interest in pursuing cases, and the general apathy of the riding public, the culture of impunity has not been shattered. There is no effort to insure the safety of the people who use public transport. It's all "Bahala na" [Come what may] when the odds of accidents happening can be reduced to a minimum if only higher standards were applied in the operation of public transport facilities.

The Padre Burgos accident also underscores the lack of a security system for the railways. One theory advanced to explain the accident is that parts of the railroad tracks had been stolen by thieves. The lack of a security system cuts two ways: it leaves the railroad open to theft and sabotage and it endangers the lives of people who purposely or unconsciously stray into the tracks of oncoming trains. One recent example of the second is the accidental killing of Carlos "Caloy" Abrera who was hit by a train while he was shopping for plants near the railroad tracks.

The railways are perhaps the most neglected sector of our transport industry. The Philippine National Railways (PNR) is using rolling stock that is more than half a century old. The railroad tracks are poorly maintained. The wagons are decrepit and perhaps except for the air-conditioned coaches, are filthy and have unsanitary and unsightly toilets.

One bright piece of news is the recent announcement about the start of the North Railways project that would modernize the railways system from Manila to Malolos, Bulacan, and ultimately, to San Fernando, La Union. The modernization project will restore the North Rail system to its grandeur before World War II, when it was the preferred way to go to points north such as Baguio and San Fernando.

The rehabilitation of the accident-prone South Line of the PNR should also follow. In May the government was reported to have tapped South Korea's lending institutions for a $50-million, long-term loan that would cover part of the P36-billion rehabilitation project. We hope the project will start soon, probably simultaneously with the rehabilitation of the North Rail, so that ultimately the greater part of Luzon would be covered by a modern railway system.

The railways can help promote the social and economic development of the countryside by making possible the fast and efficient movement of people, farm produce and manufactured goods at a relatively low cost. But all these years the development of the railway system has been forgotten and it is only now that some interest has again been expressed. The Padre Burgos accident should help prod the authorities to accelerate the rehabilitation and modernization of the Luzon railways and the installation of railway systems in Mindanao, Panay and other big islands.

Favorable Islam

Favorable Islam

Updated 11:12pm (Mla time) Nov 14, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 15, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


THE MUSLIM community celebrated the end of the holy month of Ramadan on Saturday; today's official holiday is an opportunity for the rest of the nation to mark Eid'l Fitr, as the concluding feast is known.

It was only under the Arroyo administration that Muslim feasts came to be included in the list of official holidays. In the same way that the term of President Diosdado Macapagal is remembered for moving Independence Day from July 4 to June 12, the presidency of his daughter may well be remembered for giving Ramadan the same importance, the same official sanction, as the Christmas season.

We welcomed the long-overdue inclusion as a political gesture two years ago; but as the latest Social Weather Stations survey has reminded us, even symbols have practical consequences.

The survey, conducted last August, found that a statistical majority of Filipinos, at 52 percent, still hold a favorable view ("mabuti ang pagtingin") toward Islam. We say "still," because the last time the question was asked, in the May-June 2003 survey, an undeniable majority of 58 percent said they viewed Islam favorably.

Should the drop from 58 to 52 percent (a majority that is within the survey's margin of error of plus or minus 3 points) ring alarm bells? We think not, or at least not yet. Firstly, because the number of those who said they viewed Islam unfavorably this year is exactly the same as the number in 2003: 41 percent. In other words, the drop in favorables did not immediately translate into an increase in unfavorables. Secondly, and more important, the numbers in the survey conducted two years ago, in November-December 2002, were much more negative. In the 2002 survey, the proportions were reversed, with only 43 percent of Filipinos nationwide viewing Islam favorably, versus 54 percent who viewed it unfavorably.

We think it is likely that part of the reason for the change in attitude since then was the national celebration of Muslim feast days. In a word, inclusion promoted inclusiveness.

Celebrating the Muslim feast days has provided mass media with many opportunities to describe Islamic traditions or rites (witness the news pages or the newscasts last Saturday). It has helped raise the profile of ordinary Muslims, blurring their image as strange or different, as the embodiment of "the Other." And it may have helped lead to a new tolerance on the part of the Christian majority.

This is not to say that the path to complete integration of our Muslim minority is now obstacle-free. The great majority of Christian Filipinos, about four in every five, still believe that Islam is "very different" ("may malaking pagkakaiba") from Christianity. Only 14 percent believe that Islam and Christianity, which both trace their roots to Abraham, "have a lot in common" ("maraming pagkakapareho," in the language of the survey).

The President's own bailiwick, the Visayas, remains vexed by the Islamic religion. In the three surveys, a solid majority of Visayas residents consistently viewed it unfavorably: 65 percent in 2002, 58 percent in 2003, and an even higher 69 percent in 2004. In contrast, the change in attitude among Metro Manila residents was nothing short of dramatic: from 51 percent unfavorable in 2002 down to 27 percent unfavorable this year.

These statistics, plus anecdote after anecdote of ethnic or religious discrimination, prove that favorable is not the same as favored. Consider just one instance: the vilification campaign against Muslim traders in Greenhills, San Juan. A leading journalist once committed an unpardonable journalistic sin when he repeatedly referred to the Muslim prayer area in Greenhills as a "base" for possibly illegal operations, and then slyly "remembering" that al-Qaeda, the extremist terror network, was in fact Arabic for "The Base." Opinion masquerading as fact is objectionable; but opinion wrapped in fiction disguised as fact is simply reprehensible.

There is thus a long way to go before the country's Muslim minority enjoys the same equal treatment that the Christian majority takes for granted. But this much is clear: including Muslim feast days in the list of official holidays was a step in the right direction.

Arafat and Palestine

Arafat and Palestine

Updated 01:15am (Mla time) Nov 14, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 14, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


PALESTINIAN leader Yasser Arafat exited the world stage the same way he entered it more than three decades ago: as a deeply divisive symbol of the Palestinian cause.

It is not quite accurate to say -- as President Macagapal-Arroyo said in an official statement issued the other day -- that Arafat, who died of a still-undisclosed illness at 75 inside a military hospital in Paris last Thursday, actually "devoted his life to working for peace for his people."

This is not to take away from his life's achievement, but peace for his people was always, and only, secondary. Above all else, Arafat, the founder of the Palestine Liberation Organization and the first president of the Palestinian Authority, was a Palestinian nationalist. Creating a Palestinian state was his first and last objective.

When resort to arms was in his view the most effective or indeed the only option, he proved himself a warrior to his people-and a terrorist to others. That was the way he burst into the world scene, as the leader of a group responsible for airplane hijackings. In the early 1990s, when an accommodation with Israel seemed within reach (not least because of unrelenting pressure from the White House), he turned himself into a peacemaker. When Israel took a hard turn to the right, at a time when he was already head of the Palestinian Authority, he sought refuge in the politics of ambiguity, taking part in the continuing peace process but allowing (there is no other convincing explanation for it) the second Palestinian intifada to take root.

(We must add that responsibility for the lack of success in forging a final and comprehensive peace settlement does not rest on his shoulders alone. Israeli and American leaders share that burden, too.)

Arafat's actions over four decades can thus be understood best within the framework of Palestinian statehood, not the quest for peace. And it is because of that first and fundamental role he filled-as the patriarch of a nation-that millions of Palestinians in Israel, in Jordan, and on the West Bank mourn his passing.

Judging by that severe criterion, we can say that Arafat both succeeded and failed in his life's mission. He failed because he died before the state of Palestine could be reborn. He succeeded because, regardless of the inevitable power struggle among the Palestinian leaders he has left behind, he turned Palestinian nationhood into fact.


Arafat and Osama

THE VIGIL in Paris, when Yasser Arafat was lapsing in and out of a coma, and Friday's funeral rites in Cairo, attended by dignitaries from some 60 countries, must have disconcerted not a few intelligence analysts.

The sight of dozens of supporters of the Palestinian cause keeping vigil outside the military hospital where Arafat was confined, or of a "distinguished gathering of presidents and royals" (as the Inquirer photo caption phrased it) attending his funeral, is unsettling for what it may say, not about Arafat's past, but Osama bin Laden's future.

Simply put, some terrorism experts believe that the latest Bin Laden videotape, released the weekend before the US presidential elections, signifies what we can call the Arafat-ization of the leader of the al-Qaida terrorist network.

Consider the following analysis by Peter Bergen, the author of "Holy War, Inc." (see www.peterbergen.com). "A key visual message of the tape was how it presented Bin Laden as an elder statesman, rather than as the leader of a paramilitary organization. That message was communicated by the fact that for the first time in one of his videotaped statements there was no weapon by Bin Laden's side. That non-belligerent visual message mirrored what Bin Laden said when he made a direct appeal to the American people, saying that al-Qaeda would suspend its attacks if there was a change in US foreign policy in the Muslim world ... This past year Bin Laden has increasingly tried to present himself as a strategically-minded political leader ..."

We do not have to look far to find his role model. Arafat's transformation (albeit incomplete in the eyes of many) had aligned world public opinion behind the Palestinian cause. Will Bin Laden's ongoing makeover turn his, 40 years from now, into a motherhood statement?

Amen loan

Amen loan

Updated 10:40pm (Mla time) Nov 12, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 13, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


A CONDOMINIUM project of a real estate company owned by Mike Velarde of the Catholic charismatic group El Shaddai has received the single biggest loan from the Pag-Ibig Fund. The loan is for the construction of Amvel Mansions, a 3,000-unit residential project at the Amvel Business Park in San Dionisio, Parañaque. The Pag-Ibig exposure is by way of a P353-million loan, of which P221 million was handed over to Velarde during the cornerstone-laying last Tuesday attended no less than by President Macapagal-Arroyo and Vice President Noli de Castro.

It is easy to speculate that the financing largesse that Velarde is reaping from a government-financing agency is payback for his support of the Arroyo-De Castro ticket in the last election. But both Velarde and De Castro, who is chair of the Housing and Urban Development Coordinating Council that oversees Pag-Ibig, denied this. De Castro explained the loan was risk-free for the government because Pag-Ibig came in only after the Bank of Commerce had financed the initial construction of the project. He said Pag-Ibig would earn P40 million from the loan.

While the explanation seems to allay fears that the government might be unnecessarily exposing state funds to risk, it does not seem to assuage suspicion that the loan was not a thank-you gesture to Velarde for urging his El Shaddai legions to vote for the administration ticket last May 10. In fact, the presence of the two highest officials in the land at the project's inauguration reinforces the suspicion that the loan was a political payback.

What is worrisome is that the government seems insensitive to the repercussions of giving a loan to a political supporter. The Pag-Ibig publicity machine even had the temerity to boast that the credit facility was "the biggest one-time drawdown for a project in the fund's history." It hardly reassures Pag-Ibig contributors that their money has been lent to a project in a transaction that smacks of political considerations.

It is also hardly reassuring that Pag-Ibig is assisting a blatantly commercial project when it should be assisting in the financing of low- to medium-cost housing for its contributors and members. Velarde's project smacks of commercialism and while its profit orientation should indicate that it's good business, that is, business that will reap income and enable it to repay Pag-Ibig at an interest and thus allow the fund to earn for its members, its free-wheeling capitalism does not sit well with the social duties of the government to equalize opportunities and to assist the shelter needs of the people, the majority of whom are poor. To be sure, the Pag-Ibig fund could be put to better use providing the housing needs of the poor.

What is funny is that Velarde's project is called Amvel Mansions. It is characteristic of real estate businessmen in the country to bill their projects "mansions," "villas," "estates" and just about every word in the vocabulary that underscores their exclusivity, their "poshness." Presumably such semantic hucksterism would appeal to the nouveau riche and the social climbers. It is hard to believe such creatures are Pag-Ibig's constituents.

De Castro said Velarde's project is a "leap of faith [that] reinforces [the President's] statement that the financial crisis is over, and that confidence in the government has been restored." That statement is curious because by lending Velarde P353 million to build his "mansions," it seems the government is the one making the leap of faith. It is the administration doing the service for Velarde's messianism, his lust for mansions.

Now, Christ in the Bible urged his followers "not to lay up treasures on earth where moth and rust corrode" but instead lay treasures in heaven because "in my father's house there are many mansions." Of course, he did not know at that time that there would be such a thing as the Amvel Mansions where heaven could be had with some loan from the government. If he had known that, he would have joined the President and the Vice President in the inauguration of Velarde's project.

For what is P353 million but what Velarde calls "seed-faith offering," the money he asks from his legions during religious services, promising them a thousand-fold in return for their generosity? Such an offering looks suspiciously like faith conducted beside a cash register, but even Christ said you reap what you sow. You sow political goodwill and you reap a generous loan. And to that we say amen.

Jurisdiction

Jurisdiction

Updated 01:58am (Mla time) Nov 12, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 12, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


THE ISSUE of the supposed corruption in the military threatens to go the way of the dodo, with the meteoric cost of living -- double, triple whammies coming our way with the intensity of broken promises -- currently riveting public attention. The issue, as earlier particularized by the case of Maj. Gen. Carlos Garcia's unexplained assets both here and abroad, was frittered away by the very same case by dint of its incredible details (thousands of dollars taken out of the Philippines and into the United States, a condo at the Trump Tower, nine vehicles in the old country, among many other things) and appears to have slipped through the cracks. You'd think the former Armed Forces comptroller who has never experienced being on a battlefield was able to swing things all by his lonesome, and no one else in the military's bureaucratic maze is liable.

The progress of Garcia's case itself does not look encouraging. The yet to be resolved issue on who should have "control" over him is worrisome, and, like any other legal conundrum, bids fair to take up more time than it should. ("How can you arrest a man who is already in jail?" Sandiganbayan sheriff Edgardo Urieta said on Wednesday, when a second arrest warrant was served on the general. By "jail," of course, Urieta meant Garcia's confinement to quarters. Of course, it's not clear to the general public whether being jailed and being confined to quarters are the same. For example, does a general in jail have a houseboy to look after his needs, the way Garcia in his quarters reportedly does? The workings of the military, particularly as these apply to the brass, are not exactly common knowledge to the average working stiff.)

The way things stand, the Office of the Ombudsman is preparing to ask the Sandiganbayan to rule on the matter of jurisdiction over Garcia. (But both the military and the anti-graft court now maintain that "there is no tug-of-war" over him, and that they are in "close cooperation" regarding the case.) And between that and the next definitive legal development, public attention is being wrenched away from the case and necessarily focusing more and more on the startling rise in power rates, the looming increase in other utility bills, the prospect of unhappy holidays (despite Press Secretary Ignacio Bunye's feel-good blitz), the government's amazingly indelicate grant of a P353-million loan to the condominium project of El Shaddai's Mike Velarde...


Indictment

IT GOES without saying that public expectation requires a satisfactory resolution of the case involving Maj. Gen. Carlos Garcia's unexplained wealth (that is, if the issue of the supposed corruption in the military is too huge a problem to take on in this country of enduring, because systemic, problems). But a satisfactory resolution appears to be a formidable task, given that despite the statements of the contending (but cooperating) parties, the Sandiganbayan's "formal jurisdiction" over the general has yet to be enforced.

The statement issued by Surigao del Sur Rep. Prospero Pichay on Wednesday called attention to the "glaring failures" in the system of military justice.

While assailing the military for its supposed refusal to surrender Garcia to civilian authorities, Pichay called for amendments to the rules governing the prosecution and trial of military personnel. He cited the case of Army Captains Peter Edwin Navarro, Philip Esmeralda and Rembert Baylosis-by his account, all decorated and all languishing in solitary confinement in a maximum-security prison in Fort Bonifacio since Jan. 28. That's two days after the three officers, all of the so-called "Kawal" group, denounced the alleged corruption in the Armed Forces during a press conference with civil society members.

The court-martial for these officers has been "inexplicably delayed," according to Pichay. "A clear indictment" of the military justice system is what he calls the discrepancy between the two cases.

Indeed, the discrepancy between the conditions of the general confined to quarters (for unexplained wealth) and the captains in solitary confinement in a maximum-security prison (for crying corruption) is glaring in this country of glaring discrepancies. But is anyone still paying attention?

Civility

Civility

Updated 01:33am (Mla time) Nov 11, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the November 11, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer


CIVILITY is to politics as good manners are to personal relations. They are, first and foremost, a sign of healthy self-respect and a corresponding concern for others. Civility in our politics is about restraint in the same way that adulthood is all about learning responsibilities such as the need to exercise self-restraint.

Working for the public good is what our politicians are elected and paid to do. The personal experiences and emotions of our politicians are of concern to the public only to the extent that they help promote -- or impede -- the common welfare.

When, for example, Sen. Jinggoy Estrada snarls about his father's arrest, or Sen. Miriam Defensor-Santiago becomes shrill about the tragedy that struck her family, the line of public propriety has been crossed. In the same manner, when a senator uses the rules to derail hearings in the Commission on Appointments (simply because he or she can't stand that person and for no other reason), the line that separates personal feelings and abuse of power has been crossed.

There is no denying the fact that a senator like Estrada, upset over what he perceives to be the unjust detention of his father, has every right and even the duty to campaign for a more humane and sound national policy on political arrests. Likewise a senator who has lived through the horrors of a family suicide, like Santiago, has an obligation to work for a more compassionate and caring educational system. But in either case, as servants of the people, they should be concerned with improving institutions rather than wrecking them. Launching personal vendettas based on grudges does not serve the public interest and is plainly an abuse of power.

Government positions carry with them privileges that are generally referred to as official courtesies. A senator, for example, can use the title "Honorable" and the number 7 on his car as part of such official courtesies. And these courtesies are given to these officials by virtue of the position they hold. Contrary to common belief, the pomp of power has a practical basis, and that basis is to solidify, in both the public mind and that of the person holding the position, the reality that they hold positions of responsibility-and honor.

When a government official begins to use power merely to gratify the ego or feed a grudge, a fundamental requirement of good governance is set aside. That requirement is self-control. When self-control is lost, decency also is lost. "When once the forms of civility are violated, there remains little hope of return to kindness or decency," as Samuel Johnson once wrote.

It is indecent for an official to use a position to enrich a family, to oppress an opponent, or pass laws that are detrimental to the common welfare. We all know this. But it is just as indecent for an official to abuse the courtesies their positions enable them to enjoy. It is equally indecent for officials to lord it over their countrymen, either by flying off the handle, in the process delaying enactment of a law, or by turning an investigation into a circus. Using parliamentary immunity to make libelous speeches, or ruining a person's career because you don't like his face, is utterly indecent, too.

All for what?

All for what?

Updated 00:49am (Mla time) Nov 10, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the November 10, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


WHAT is the best way to describe the Palace spin that it proclaimed a potential fiscal crisis just to get the sin tax bill passed? It was like shouting "Fire!" in a crowded theater so the janitors could clean it.

Granting for a moment, that this was the real intention of the administration, it was an extremely harmful way to get things done. It involved spending a tremendous amount of political capital just to get a law through Congress.

But it is precisely the Palace's current spin on things -- that it was willing to sow near-panic to instill a sense of emergency to enable the passage of a law -- that makes us question the administration's saying that since it got what it wanted in Congress, everything will be okay.

What the administration did politically -- going for broke, in gambler's terms, or indulging in brinksmanship, or rushing the country to the edge of political and economic panic just to get the opposition to blink, in political speak -- it has been doing financially. That is to say that it speaks very poorly of an administration when it is willing to manipulate national emotions while apparently cynically knowing it was using the better nature of people to achieve short-term political ends. In proclaiming the potential of a fiscal crisis in a manner that implied it might actually almost be upon us, the President played fast and loose with public opinion, against, it must be said, the better judgment of her more prudent advisers. They were rather taken aback by the President's not bothering to take a nuanced position. The way she expressed it, the sky might not just fall, it was actually falling.

Her people went with her and with the country, which went into as close to a frenzy of patriotic fervor as can be summoned in these tiring times. A sense of purpose captivated the country, at least for a time. Any administration is lucky if it can summon similar levels of emotion and concern; this administration came pretty close and it is well to remember it can only do so once. Having said it was all a scheme to pressure Congress, the President can be sure neither Congress nor the country will be easily convinced to believe her the next time she says there's a matter for national concern.

The fact is the fiscal standing of the government remains a cause for concern. The national debt still stands close to the P5.5 trillion mark; the budget deficit is still immense at about P200 billion; the economy is still wobbly. The Palace may have spun a sense of fiscal urgency to foist the cooperation of Congress, but the economists have weighed in saying there's more to a potential fiscal crisis than the barking of administration propagandists.

Aside from the figures concerning the government's finances, there, too, remain other causes for concern that won't go away simply because the President tells the country to stop worrying. There is the growing number of offices and presidential appointees, with their accompanying perks and privileges. There is the harsh reality of a dwindling taxpayer base and the unchecked evasion or avoidance of tax payments by big taxpayers. There continues the insatiable appetite for pork barrel of Congress.

If the President feels she can tell everyone to relax after getting only one out of the eight tax measures she has proposed (and which Congress, in fact, still has to pass), she is either incredibly clever or frighteningly arrogant. In reaction to the Palace's pronouncements, the opposition is showing signs of being disinterested in cooperating to pass the other tax measures. The President may not care since she has overwhelming numbers in Congress, but what if everyone in government now refuses to do any belt tightening? What about the tax evaders and cheats, who will think they are now off the hook?

Shouting "Fire!" to clear the theater certainly works, but no one will trust the theater owner again. Imagine if the theater owner decided to panic people because the theater's engineer told his boss there was faulty wiring and there was actually the potential danger of fire. An ordinary person would consider such behavior lunatic, but this is not an ordinary country governed by ordinary people. It is a country where a President, with a factual basis for declaring an emergency, actually declares such an emergency not to prevent it, but to put a stop to the skepticism of those who are not fully convinced of the emergency.

Tragedy of errors

Tragedy of errors

Updated 10:42pm (Mla time) Nov 08, 2004
Inquirer News Service



Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the November 9, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.


LAST Friday, the Department of Education finally admitted that a history textbook used in high schools contained errors more substantial than earlier thought. Education Secretary Florencio Abad said the textbook needed a complete rewording or rewriting of whole paragraphs, not just the identification and correction of mistakes.

The textbook, "Asya: Noon, Ngayon at Bukas," was found to contain 413 errors in its 316 pages. It is not the only textbook that needs to be reviewed. Only last month it was revealed that two science textbooks that were supposedly pulled out three years ago because of errors were still being used in high schools. Probably many others also contain factual and grammatical errors.

Abad said the discovery of errors in "Asya" had prompted the Department of Education to examine other books now being used in high schools. This is as it should be. A thorough review of all books being used in the grade and high schools should be undertaken as the first step. Next, a review of all the textbooks used in colleges and universities should also be conducted.

The whistleblower in the case of the error-filled textbooks, Antonio Calipjo Go, academic supervisor of Marian School in Quezon City, deserves the commendation of all teachers and parents. If he had not exposed the errors, the miseducation and idiotization of hundreds of thousands of students would have continued. As it is, we cannot at this time determine the great harm that the error-filled books has done to the thousands of students who read them in the past few years. How can they unlearn the errors that they have "learned"? Can the errors ever be corrected or erased from their minds, their memories?

The authors of the error-filled books, many of them with MAs and PhDs, should be banned for life from ever writing textbooks again. Their names should be listed and the list distributed to all schools and publishing houses. If ever an Index Librorum Prohibitorum was needed in the Philippines, this is one time.

The big question is: Why did this state of affairs take place and continue in the past seven years, or probably, in some instances, longer than that? Does not the Department of Education do a regular review of the books that students are using? And did not the department officials immediately see the harm that the error-filled books would do to the minds of hundreds of thousands of students?

This tragedy of errors -- for certainly this a tragedy, not a laughing matter -- probably took place because education is considered a "mass production" thing in our country. Teachers just shovel "information" into young minds, then give them exams to test if they've remembered what they've heard and read, and if they pass, reward them with the prized pieces of paper called "diplomas." Students are taught to be parrots, hoarders of information, instead of being helped to think for themselves.

There is no sense of scholarship, no drive for excellence in our educational system in general. There are centers of excellence, of course, but they are very few. The aim seems to be just to help students finish courses so that when they graduate they will have pieces of paper to show that they are "qualified" to undertake certain professional or vocational tasks. Education has become an automatic, mechanical, almost mindless thing.

And similarly, the preparation of textbooks has become mechanical. Writers just gather some facts from some books or perhaps retrieve them from sometimes-faulty memory, and put them in textbooks. There is no meticulous study and research. No rigorous tests and standards of scholarship are applied to the writing of textbooks.

The aim of textbook writers seems to be just to finish the writing and mass-produce the books as fast as possible so that they can collect their fees and the books can be distributed throughout the country. And thus errors, misrepresentations and sometimes, outright lies are perpetuated in the textbooks that the young read. Is it any wonder that the international ranking of Philippine schools has dropped so low?

After admitting the errors in one textbook, Abad has pointed the way to the right direction. Reexamine all textbooks, rewrite and reword entire chapters of error-filled books, if not entire books, and print new copies. Withdraw the error-filled books from circulation and destroy them. This is one time when book burning is justified. The error-filled books should not be allowed to poison the minds and misinform hundreds of thousands of students any minute second longer. Consign all these books to the fire.