THE DEPARTMENT of Justice has now embarked on reforming the Witness Protection Program. This is the most auspicious time to do it, as public confidence in the DOJ crescendos under the leadership of Secretary Leila de Lima, erstwhile chair of the Commission on Human Rights.
Recall that during the Arroyo years, the first problem of whistleblowers was how to stay away from the Witness Protection Program. The Supreme Court itself issued new rules to enable whistleblowers to seek private sanctuary providers.
The existing law, RA 6981 or the Witness Protection, Security and Benefit Act of 1991, already covers all bases. What is left is for us to adapt it to our specific conditions. It guarantees a “secure housing facility,” “relocation and/or change of personal identity,” “reasonable traveling expenses and subsistence allowance”—all at the expense of the state. Given the size of the Philippines, I wonder how long a new identity can remain truly secret. Given the strangely populist nature of local litigation, the star witnesses are typically too exposed to resume anonymity after they testify.
Yet the witness’ most real problem is not legal at all. It is boredom. Remember that a vital witness in the Ampatuan massacre, Suwaib Upahm, was killed while his application for witness protection was still pending. He had testified on global screens via Al Jazeera that he was an Ampatuan henchman and confessed to having served as one of the gunmen. He left his safe house for, among many reasons, because he found it boring.
The solution to this problem would have been the quick resolution of his application for sanctuary and, eventually, the speedy trial of the massacre itself. The law already provides for a “speedy trial” within “three months from the filing of the case.” Ironically, more than one year after the massacre, the court has just finished hearing the application for bail of Datu Unsay Ampatuan. Both the public and private prosecutors will insist that the evidence on bail be eventually admitted as part of the evidence in chief (that is to say, no need to re-introduce the same evidence during the trial on the merits). But the recommended three-month deadline is now long past.
The slow pace of justice affects more than just the witness’ equanimity. The long trial increases the cost of giving sanctuary. It increases the problem of safety and mobility.
Finally, RA 6981 fails to provide for psychosocial support for the witness. It is understandable for the state to focus on safety and security, but this calls for nuanced treatment lest we protect the witness even from psychologists and therapists who can help them cope with the trauma and anxiety of living on the run, of paying such a steep price for telling the truth.
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Last week I argued that there is a downside to ad boycotts. I warned of the dangers of moral majorities flexing muscle through the power of the purse, and raised several “what ifs” to test the wisdom of market-based censorship. Fellow columnist Conrad de Quiros agreed, and we asked: What if the Catholic Church calls for an ad boycott to oppose reproductive health?
Well, as if by way of response, earlier this week the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines showed us exactly what it was capable of doing. The CBCP objected to a 30-second ad of McDonald’s showing a little girl asking a boy, apparently while they’re in a playground, if she could be considered his girlfriend. The boy said no, girls were too demanding. And the girl said all she really wanted was McDonald’s P25 French fries—and they traipsed happily soon after to a McDonald’s shop.
Fr. Melvin Castro of the CBCP’s Episcopal Commission on Family and Life condemned the ad as “very shallow” and “superficial,” saying it cheapened human relations by equating love with French fries. “[A]ng human relationship ba ay French fries lang ba ang katumbas?”
I am not surprised at the CBCP’s gumption to object to an otherwise innocuous ad on puppy love. An Indian version of exactly the same storyline ends with a peck on the cheek, horrors! But who after all wouldn’t be emboldened by the power of the anti-Willie Revillame ad boycott campaign? Power intoxicates, and unchecked power intoxicates absolutely.
What proves this is the panicky response by McDonald’s, obviously wary of that it would unfairly suffer the same backlash that Revillame worthily endured.
A McDonald’s spokesman announced: “We recognize and respect the stand of the CBCP and have stopped airing the said commercial across all television stations as of noon today… We would like to inform the public that McDonald’s decided to pull out the commercial because we respect the call of Bishop Iñiguez and we will replace the spot with an old commercial.”
But the real clincher is the smug post-victory reply of the CBCP, as it were, a modern-day Padre Salvi licking his chops. It celebrates self-censorship. “Sana lang huwag nang dumating ulit sa ganitong punto. Sana on their own, ang kanilang sensitivity sa culture, sa faith ng isang bansa ay kilalanin.” I understand the call for sensitivity, but I am all-out against self-censorship.
Sensitivity is fine, but it can dampen our daring and creativity. A blog commentator asked about the potential blasphemy of Lenten advertisements like “Fish be with you” and “Our Daily Shrimp.” Another commentator wondered about ads that feature Robin Padilla’s “laging handa” plug for Trust condoms. Advertising works by finding fresh ways to see the day-to-day; it thrives on taking risks, not on playing safe.
I object to self-censorship. The bishops’ test – “sana on their own”—is precisely the chilling effect that the Bill of Rights would guard against. And even Ronald McDonald quakes in his red boots at the threat of a new Inquisition.
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