Gripped by chilling art of fear
Monday, June 11, 2007
THE first few times I wrote about the military's human rights abuses, I was always told that there were places I shouldn't go, or things I shouldn't do. I was told not to walk the two blocks from the jeep stop to my apartment at night. I shouldn't say anything over my cell phone, because there was bound to be someone listening on the other end. Don't tell anyone where you live. Don't tell anyone where you're going. Don't say who you are, don't carry around a notebook, keep your files backed up, just in case they take you. Just in case.
In the end, I went where I thought I had to, asked questions to people I thought had answers, hounded generals, argued with tight-mouthed municipal clerks, interviewed mothers, and generally believed I was on my way to saving the world. I thought it was bravery, but really, how much bravery is necessary when youre 21 and think you're immortal?
There are many, many incidents that are happening today, frightening things, unbelievable things; the red-eyed monsters that hide under beds that we've convinced ourselves didn't exist. And there are many who do think they don't exist, that the bad, bad stories spattered on the front pages of newspapers are just leftist propaganda, just sensationalism, just another manifestation of life's bizarre randomness in 21st-century Philippines. Blame the newspaper for emphasising the killings, blame the victim with his eyeballs scooped out for being an activist, blame the nine-year-old child for having the gall to die in the crossfire. It'll never be you. But when a young man is dragged protesting from a shopping mall and is never heard from again, and a pregnant college girl is shoved into a jeep weeks before her birthday, neither education, nor gender, nor social status can protect anyone who speaks out.
At 5.30pm on the 27th of May, Pastor Berlin Guerrero was with his family on his way home from a church anniversary. A white van cut across their tricycle's path, and unknown men leaped out to grab him. He was shoved inside the van, handcuffed, his head covered with cloth and packing tape. He was beaten, punched and kicked repeatedly. They brought him out for interrogation, called him Pastor-Impostor, and lectured him on the evils of communism and how people are used to create trouble by criticising the government.
Twelve hours later, he was put back into the van, handcuffed and blindfolded. They threatened to kill him, burn him or bury him. On May 28, Pastor Berlin Guerrero found himself in Camp Pantaleon Garcia, Cavite Provincial Police Office, Imus, Cavite. Police documents show that Guerrero was arrested by operatives of the Naval Intelligence and Security Force (NISF).
Never mind that the man was arrested without a warrant. Never mind that men not in uniform abducted him on a Sunday, when courts are closed. Never mind that he was interrogated on issues that had nothing to do with his purported crime — a 16-year-old crime that he had no inkling of until he landed in the police's welcoming arms. Never mind that copies of case files cannot be found. All these are undeniably wrong, and have been receiving attention from government and police although attention, of course, will only be as strong as the flash on a reporter's camera. But what is astonishing is the lack of condemnation by the military, police and government of the torture Guerrero suffered at the hands of his captors. It's as if it never happened. If you can't deny it or redirect it, pretend its not there.
Is torture justified? There are men who will say yes, perhaps the same men from the naval intelligence service who stuffed Pastor Berlin's head in a plastic bag until he passed out and urinated on himself. It is, after all, in pursuit of the national interest. That was what they were so valiantly fighting for while slamming cloth-covered fists and one-litre mineral water bottles on Pastor Berlin's head. They were in search of truth. Truth, for them, is the admission of membership in communist rebel organisations while having your head shaken like a coconut.
The Philippines, along with 128 other countries, is a signatory to The Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman, and Degrading Treatment or Punishment. It defines torture as any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted by or at the instigation of a public official on a person for such purposes as obtaining information . . . or confession. The convention makes clear that no exceptional circumstances whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political instability, or any other public emergency may be invoked as a justification for torture.
According to a statement by the Commission on Human Rights Dr Narciso Maniquis Jr, Guerrero's physical injuries were related to the ill-treatment dealt him. And because the subject was being forced to admit that he is the head of a certain COM.PROV or Comiteng Provincia ng Cavite while being detained against his will his case satisfies the criteria for torture as defined under the UN Convention against torture.
Freedom from torture is one of the very few rights that cannot be curtailed, not by national interests, not by clear and present danger, and certainly not by men whose twisted conception of right and wrong belongs to a hundred years ago. This is why, under international law, torturers are considered hostis humani generis — enemies of all humanity. This is why all countries have jurisdiction to prosecute them, regardless of where the torture took place. And this is why it is reprehensible that in this country, the men responsible for Pastor Berlin Guerrero's torture, and that of so many more, are not hunted down like the dogs they are.
When the military claims their interrogation is necessary to keep civilians safe, what is to stop them from torturing wives, daughters, parents and neighbours to obtain information? Torture is a slippery slope, and not only is information obtained under duress questionable, to justify it once is to justify it for every grinning Rambo who thinks dissenting makes you an enemy of the state.
There is still no word from the NISF, or statements from the AFP. Berlin Guerrero is still in jail. And I don't feel very brave today.Philippine Daily Inquirer/ANN
In the end, I went where I thought I had to, asked questions to people I thought had answers, hounded generals, argued with tight-mouthed municipal clerks, interviewed mothers, and generally believed I was on my way to saving the world. I thought it was bravery, but really, how much bravery is necessary when youre 21 and think you're immortal?
There are many, many incidents that are happening today, frightening things, unbelievable things; the red-eyed monsters that hide under beds that we've convinced ourselves didn't exist. And there are many who do think they don't exist, that the bad, bad stories spattered on the front pages of newspapers are just leftist propaganda, just sensationalism, just another manifestation of life's bizarre randomness in 21st-century Philippines. Blame the newspaper for emphasising the killings, blame the victim with his eyeballs scooped out for being an activist, blame the nine-year-old child for having the gall to die in the crossfire. It'll never be you. But when a young man is dragged protesting from a shopping mall and is never heard from again, and a pregnant college girl is shoved into a jeep weeks before her birthday, neither education, nor gender, nor social status can protect anyone who speaks out.
At 5.30pm on the 27th of May, Pastor Berlin Guerrero was with his family on his way home from a church anniversary. A white van cut across their tricycle's path, and unknown men leaped out to grab him. He was shoved inside the van, handcuffed, his head covered with cloth and packing tape. He was beaten, punched and kicked repeatedly. They brought him out for interrogation, called him Pastor-Impostor, and lectured him on the evils of communism and how people are used to create trouble by criticising the government.
Twelve hours later, he was put back into the van, handcuffed and blindfolded. They threatened to kill him, burn him or bury him. On May 28, Pastor Berlin Guerrero found himself in Camp Pantaleon Garcia, Cavite Provincial Police Office, Imus, Cavite. Police documents show that Guerrero was arrested by operatives of the Naval Intelligence and Security Force (NISF).
Never mind that the man was arrested without a warrant. Never mind that men not in uniform abducted him on a Sunday, when courts are closed. Never mind that he was interrogated on issues that had nothing to do with his purported crime — a 16-year-old crime that he had no inkling of until he landed in the police's welcoming arms. Never mind that copies of case files cannot be found. All these are undeniably wrong, and have been receiving attention from government and police although attention, of course, will only be as strong as the flash on a reporter's camera. But what is astonishing is the lack of condemnation by the military, police and government of the torture Guerrero suffered at the hands of his captors. It's as if it never happened. If you can't deny it or redirect it, pretend its not there.
Is torture justified? There are men who will say yes, perhaps the same men from the naval intelligence service who stuffed Pastor Berlin's head in a plastic bag until he passed out and urinated on himself. It is, after all, in pursuit of the national interest. That was what they were so valiantly fighting for while slamming cloth-covered fists and one-litre mineral water bottles on Pastor Berlin's head. They were in search of truth. Truth, for them, is the admission of membership in communist rebel organisations while having your head shaken like a coconut.
The Philippines, along with 128 other countries, is a signatory to The Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman, and Degrading Treatment or Punishment. It defines torture as any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted by or at the instigation of a public official on a person for such purposes as obtaining information . . . or confession. The convention makes clear that no exceptional circumstances whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political instability, or any other public emergency may be invoked as a justification for torture.
According to a statement by the Commission on Human Rights Dr Narciso Maniquis Jr, Guerrero's physical injuries were related to the ill-treatment dealt him. And because the subject was being forced to admit that he is the head of a certain COM.PROV or Comiteng Provincia ng Cavite while being detained against his will his case satisfies the criteria for torture as defined under the UN Convention against torture.
Freedom from torture is one of the very few rights that cannot be curtailed, not by national interests, not by clear and present danger, and certainly not by men whose twisted conception of right and wrong belongs to a hundred years ago. This is why, under international law, torturers are considered hostis humani generis — enemies of all humanity. This is why all countries have jurisdiction to prosecute them, regardless of where the torture took place. And this is why it is reprehensible that in this country, the men responsible for Pastor Berlin Guerrero's torture, and that of so many more, are not hunted down like the dogs they are.
When the military claims their interrogation is necessary to keep civilians safe, what is to stop them from torturing wives, daughters, parents and neighbours to obtain information? Torture is a slippery slope, and not only is information obtained under duress questionable, to justify it once is to justify it for every grinning Rambo who thinks dissenting makes you an enemy of the state.
There is still no word from the NISF, or statements from the AFP. Berlin Guerrero is still in jail. And I don't feel very brave today.Philippine Daily Inquirer/ANN
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