High on publicity
High on publicity
Updated 11:00am (Mla time) Jan 16, 2005
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the January 16, 2005 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
THE GOVERNMENT has an addiction problem; it is addicted to law enforcement by publicity. Consider the case of illegal drugs, the country's worst law-enforcement problem. Last year, the anti-illegal drugs campaign seized over P8.3 billion in methamphetamine hydrochloride, in 21 high-profile raids on shabu laboratories or storage facilities. But, if Rep. Antonio Cuenco is right, only one of the raids resulted in criminal charges against suspected laboratory owners or syndicate masterminds.
In other words, despite all the hype, the raids left the suspected owners or masterminds untouched, free to start plying their trade again. As with other addictions, the government's fatal weakness revealed its most serious consequences only after the fact.
"Is this an inadvertent mistake of our law enforcement agents? A mere lapse of our country's prosecutors? [Or] Is there a sleight of hand by the masterminds?" asked Cuenco, the chair of the House oversight committee on dangerous drugs, in a press statement. "I am enraged why the remaining cases, mostly in Metro Manila, did not include the filing of raps against the owners of these laboratories and facilities when they are clearly liable as accomplices at the very least."
Twenty out of 21? We do not think such a large-scale failure can be explained by mere inadvertence. Cuenco suspects collusion, between the owners and masterminds, on the one hand; and "slipshod prosecutors and rogue drug enforcement agents," on the other.But Cuenco is a Cebu politician, and because the only drug raid last year that threw the book at the owners themselves happened in Mandaue City, his reading of the situation is colored by Cebu politics. He proposed, for instance, that the government "use the Cebu style of prosecuting drug cases, if Manila lacks one or if it wants a reinforced model in dealing with these cases."
The Mandaue bust seized at least P1.3 billion of shabu, and led to the arrest of Calvin de Jesus Tan, the alleged mastermind, in Hong Kong, where he had fled and is now facing extradition. Thus, at first glance, Cuenco's regionalism may have something to it. The political leadership in Cebu has not yet recovered from the stigma of hosting one of the largest shabu laboratories in all of Southeast Asia; this helps explain why there was no lack of political will in pursuing the owners.
In contrast, authorities elsewhere may have already been inured to the high-profile raids. "Here in Manila and elsewhere, we do not only fail to implead them [the suspected owners or masterminds], some names were even reported to have been expunged from the list," Cuenco said.
But is there anything particularly Cebuano about the handling of the Mandaue case?
We hope not, because otherwise the slippery slope to Colombia-hood becomes even steeper than any of us would like.
Granted, it is not the easiest thing in the world to gather compelling evidence against criminal masterminds. And intense public pressure can lead to fabricated evidence, a shortcut that weakens the administration of justice in the long run. But surely the government has other resources it can bring to bear on the problem.
For one thing, the deep investigative work that precedes a raid does not take place in a vacuum; sources will talk not only about location, for instance, but ownership as well. It is not unlikely that even rumors or hints of ownership will fit into a pattern, which the authorities can then act on.
For another, the Department of Justice can look for state witnesses aggressively, with the principal objective never out of mind: to lock away those who have the money to fund the laboratories. A shabu capitalist in hand is better than a hundred pushers in the bushes of detention.
For a third, the government can break its dependence on law enforcement by publicity. Or rather, it must not stop with photos of the latest drug raid. Instead, it must regard the filing of solidly-backed charges against the suspected owners or alleged masterminds as the real milestone in the anti-illegal drugs campaign.
Through it all, the congressional oversight committee can continue to keep score-not of raids, but of convictions.
Updated 11:00am (Mla time) Jan 16, 2005
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the January 16, 2005 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
THE GOVERNMENT has an addiction problem; it is addicted to law enforcement by publicity. Consider the case of illegal drugs, the country's worst law-enforcement problem. Last year, the anti-illegal drugs campaign seized over P8.3 billion in methamphetamine hydrochloride, in 21 high-profile raids on shabu laboratories or storage facilities. But, if Rep. Antonio Cuenco is right, only one of the raids resulted in criminal charges against suspected laboratory owners or syndicate masterminds.
In other words, despite all the hype, the raids left the suspected owners or masterminds untouched, free to start plying their trade again. As with other addictions, the government's fatal weakness revealed its most serious consequences only after the fact.
"Is this an inadvertent mistake of our law enforcement agents? A mere lapse of our country's prosecutors? [Or] Is there a sleight of hand by the masterminds?" asked Cuenco, the chair of the House oversight committee on dangerous drugs, in a press statement. "I am enraged why the remaining cases, mostly in Metro Manila, did not include the filing of raps against the owners of these laboratories and facilities when they are clearly liable as accomplices at the very least."
Twenty out of 21? We do not think such a large-scale failure can be explained by mere inadvertence. Cuenco suspects collusion, between the owners and masterminds, on the one hand; and "slipshod prosecutors and rogue drug enforcement agents," on the other.But Cuenco is a Cebu politician, and because the only drug raid last year that threw the book at the owners themselves happened in Mandaue City, his reading of the situation is colored by Cebu politics. He proposed, for instance, that the government "use the Cebu style of prosecuting drug cases, if Manila lacks one or if it wants a reinforced model in dealing with these cases."
The Mandaue bust seized at least P1.3 billion of shabu, and led to the arrest of Calvin de Jesus Tan, the alleged mastermind, in Hong Kong, where he had fled and is now facing extradition. Thus, at first glance, Cuenco's regionalism may have something to it. The political leadership in Cebu has not yet recovered from the stigma of hosting one of the largest shabu laboratories in all of Southeast Asia; this helps explain why there was no lack of political will in pursuing the owners.
In contrast, authorities elsewhere may have already been inured to the high-profile raids. "Here in Manila and elsewhere, we do not only fail to implead them [the suspected owners or masterminds], some names were even reported to have been expunged from the list," Cuenco said.
But is there anything particularly Cebuano about the handling of the Mandaue case?
We hope not, because otherwise the slippery slope to Colombia-hood becomes even steeper than any of us would like.
Granted, it is not the easiest thing in the world to gather compelling evidence against criminal masterminds. And intense public pressure can lead to fabricated evidence, a shortcut that weakens the administration of justice in the long run. But surely the government has other resources it can bring to bear on the problem.
For one thing, the deep investigative work that precedes a raid does not take place in a vacuum; sources will talk not only about location, for instance, but ownership as well. It is not unlikely that even rumors or hints of ownership will fit into a pattern, which the authorities can then act on.
For another, the Department of Justice can look for state witnesses aggressively, with the principal objective never out of mind: to lock away those who have the money to fund the laboratories. A shabu capitalist in hand is better than a hundred pushers in the bushes of detention.
For a third, the government can break its dependence on law enforcement by publicity. Or rather, it must not stop with photos of the latest drug raid. Instead, it must regard the filing of solidly-backed charges against the suspected owners or alleged masterminds as the real milestone in the anti-illegal drugs campaign.
Through it all, the congressional oversight committee can continue to keep score-not of raids, but of convictions.
posted by Dante at 2:18 PM
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