The “criminalization” of the Philippine National Police—hopefully not totally but enough to alarm our society—should oblige us to revisit the system of having only “one police force, national in scope,” as ordained by our 1987 Constitution.
In its editorial, properly titled “Rot in the system” (9/17/14), the Inquirer aptly observed that frequent serious crimes involving PNP officers and men indicate “an appalling breakdown in the very institution sworn to enforce discipline, order and the power of the law in public life.”
To understand why there is a “rot in the system” of the PNP, we must remember that the concept of a national police force was hatched by strongman Ferdinand Marcos at the zenith of his dictatorship in 1975. Before the imposition of martial law in 1972, law enforcement was the direct responsibility of local police forces maintained and controlled by city and municipal governments through the mayors.
The Philippine Constabulary (PC), semimilitary and national in scope, was an auxiliary police force that came to the aid of the local police or enforced “PC control” under the direction of the president, when local authorities were unable to properly maintain law and order. The PC could curb the local police when the latter abused their powers or were lax in the performance of their duties. The National Bureau of Investigation under the Department of Justice helped both the PC and the police in the solution of crimes.
On Aug. 8, 1975, Marcos issued Presidential Decree No. 765 integrating the local police and the PC. The resultant organization became known as the PC-INP (Integrated National Police). PD 765 effectively abolished the local city and municipal police forces, just like Marcos abolished Congress in 1972. Henceforth, the enforcement of law and order nationwide became the sole responsibility of a monolithic police force headed by the constabulary chief, an appointee of the president and directly reporting to him.
It is understandable why Marcos wanted law enforcement to be directly under his control. All dictators want unchallenged power. The Armed Forces of the Philippines, whose primary responsibility is defense from foreign invasion, was already under his sole authority as commander in chief; so was the PC. But the local police forces were in control of duly elected mayors. They diminished or threatened his absolute authority. In Latin American dictatorships, the first act of a dictator is to establish a national police to replace all local police forces. A state police is the mark of a police state.
Among Marcos’ first moves on imposing martial law was to order the military and the PC to collect all “loose firearms,” licensed or unlicensed. Among those disarmed were the “private armies” of political warlords, especially those in the opposition who posed a threat to his absolute power. Some of the warlords were arrested and detained, temporarily at least, to teach them who was “boss.” Marcos remained the sole warlord.
His despotic rule ended when a disgruntled well-armed section of the military, roused by a mix of idealism, ambition and career frustration, mutinied and was backed by an exasperated population.
It is our misfortune that after the popular overthrow of the dictator, his democratically installed successor should adopt one of the worst features of that dictatorship. Concentration of police power in the chief executive activates Lord Acton’s axiom that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Decentralization of police power, the check-and-balance grid of democratic government, is necessary to curb police abuse.
One such instance of check and balance in law enforcement occurred in the 1951 election when then Defense Secretary Ramon Magsaysay sent soldiers to Negros Occidental to restrain special policemen and provincial guards who had terrorized several towns and tortured and killed opposition mayoralty candidate Moises Padilla. Then Gov. Rafael Lacson of Negros Occidental was blamed for the reign of terror. He and his cohorts were subsequently arrested, tried and convicted. Lacson was sentenced to life imprisonment.
The restricted area of jurisdiction of the municipal and city police forces, as well as that of the constabulary, also limited their opportunity to abuse. It was more difficult for criminal syndicates to operate nationwide or regionwide. The imposition of a monolithic police command across the country makes it easier for its members to engage freely in illegal activities across political boundaries.
Under the old system, the city and municipal mayors, along with their councils, were directly responsible for law enforcement in their respective constituencies. When peace and order conditions were bad, they could be ousted in the next election. The policemen stationed in the local communities were personally known by the residents and were therefore more constrained from straying from the law for fear of losing face among their neighbors and kin.
The PNP is a huge bureaucracy with personnel numbering 140,000, rivaling that of the regular army. A semimilitary organization (many of its officers come from the Philippine Military Academy), its members develop an esprit de corps that drives them to cover up for one another.
It has not been shown that a national police, without the presence of primary local police forces, is more efficient in maintaining peace and order. In fact, police statistics produced by PNP Director General Alan Purisima at the Senate hearing last Sept. 30 showed that crime incidence rose steeply from 241,000 in 2011 to 846,000 in 2013. In the first six months of 2014, the crime volume reached 631,000. Just as scary is the frequency of kidnapping for ransom involving police officers.
Thus, there is an urgent need for a reconsideration of the present police organizational structure. A decentralized police force that gives local authorities more direct responsibility in maintaining law and order may be called for.
Manuel F. Almario is a semiretired veteran journalist and spokesman of the Movement for Truth in History, Rizal’s MOTH.