The Mindanao massacre wouldn't have happened had the chief executive of the Philippines been doing her job
There's a tendency for eyes to glaze over when reports of violence in the Philippines are reported. "Sorry for the redundancy," we say. But the November 23 massacre of 57 people merits consideration. The victims were supporters and local journalists accompanying a woman on her way to file nomination papers for her husband's run for provincial governor on the southern Philippine island of Mindanao. The candidate had reportedly received death threats, and some authorities called this a politically motivated attack. The provincial governor and his son, leaders of the Ampatuan clan, are among those held in the case.
Why was such an attack possible?
There are three reasons. First, the culture of impunity wherever President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo is involved. Second, the culture of rido, or clan feuds, in Mindanao, and third, defects in the Filipino judicial system.
It is almost unbelievable, but a presidential spokesperson all but whitewashed the massacre in a news conference. The Ampatuan clan, Arroyo's chief ally in Mindanao, was instrumental in helping her gain the "one million" vote majority that she demanded of her election commissioner in the 2004 election. It is Mindanao where vote swings occur; the government can even decide which vote-laden planes can land, former government officials who asked not to be identified by name have told me.
The deputy press spokesperson said that she didn't think "the president's friendship with the Ampatuans will be severed." She further said that "just because they're in this situation doesn't mean we will turn our backs on them." She explained that Arroyo, in her role as chief executive, acts separately from her role in sustaining political alliances, and thus she could still be "friends" with the family even if "they indeed committed the crime."
Of course, once reality set in and there was a huge international outcry, Arroyo had to take at least cosmetic steps to separate herself from her Ampatuan allies (ousting them from her political party, a meaningless gesture).
Above the law
That is a sufficient explanation of the massacre: The Ampatuans assumed they could get away with it, given the 16 leadership positions they hold on the huge island, including two governorships.
A Pulse Asia survey in 2007 found Arroyo to be the most corrupt president in Filipino history. They're wrong; Ferdinand Marcos, who reportedly looted up to $30 billion (Dh1.1 trillion), was worse, but then we're talking about perceptions with Arroyo. The ZTE case, involving a broadband contract with a Chinese company in which Arroyo's husband and others reportedly sought a 130 per cent kickback for friends and his family, is the kind of corruption on people's minds. The usual cut in past foreign investments has been 20 per cent. An insider said in a not-for-attribution interview that, in prosecuting the case, government officials were merely trying to "limit the greed" of the first family. Indeed.
The second factor in this massacre is rido, or clan-based violence. A study published by the Asia Foundation and conducted by Moctar I. Matuan of Mindanao State University-Marawi found that in 337 rido cases from 1994 to 2004, 798 people died and 104 were injured. Although 82 cases were filed in court, only eight assailants were imprisoned. "Not a single rido was settled by the Philippine justice system," he said.
Third, the judicial system as a whole shares the blame. Too often, justice is slow or lacking.
What is needed in the Philippines is a truly clean sweep. That is why the whole political system has been focused on Arroyo's attempts — by any means — to stay in office past her "elected" term ending in June. But it should have been focused on abuse throughout the Philippines. The Mindanao massacre wouldn't have happened had the chief executive been doing her job. Rido is just a symptom of a system where abuse starts at the top.
— Los Angeles Times-Washington Post News Service
W. Scott Thompson, professor emeritus of international politics at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, is an expert on Southeast Asia who lives in Bali and Manila.