A thin line

It was an FB post that caught my attention, claiming that if the operation against the Malaysian and al-Qaida terrorist-bomber Marwan had been an unmitigated success, with minimal loss of life, P-Noy (and the Philippine National Police-Special Action Force) would have been hailed and honored by most everyone.

Well, that’s a big IF. For indeed, the line between success and failure in any armed operation—clandestine and under cover of darkness—is very slim, and the outcome could turn in an instant from success to total failure, from “surgical” to “suicidal.”

Of course there hasn’t been any shortage of commentators and observers issuing their own versions of “Monday morning quarterbacking,” purporting to analyze and offer counter-explanations of the whole operations and its bloody results. But until the official reports of the fact-finding bodies being formed or suggested are released, we would not yet know what transpired. And even then, I might venture, there will be those who will not agree with these, and persist in believing their own versions of the story.

And yet, we must insist on, demand, a proper, impartial and fearless investigation of the events at Mamasapano. And let the chips fall where they may. I tend towards the proposal of senators to create a truth commission composed of respected public figures who have proven, by their service in government and in the private sector, their independence and credibility.

Sure, let the PNP, and even the Moro Islamic Liberation Front conduct their own probes. And should the truth-telling efforts begin, let the commission have access to their findings, comparing these to the data and insights they managed to gather.

Meantime, I reiterate my call for a calmer, low-wattage public opinion atmosphere, to allow those charged with getting to the bottom of the incident to conduct their investigations in an atmosphere better suited to weighing truths against lies.

* * *

Those jumping on President Aquino’s absence at the arrival honors for the bodies of the 42 SAF troopers (the two troopers who were Muslims had to be buried right after recovery, in keeping with Muslim tradition), and then taking potshots at P-Noy’s conduct as he made the rounds of the grieving families during the necrological service, forget that perhaps more than most, the President has especially close ties with the police force.

In the first place, the way I see it, the more people around him, plus the snarky commentators on social media, pressured P-Noy to take an early leave from his previous commitment to meet the arriving coffins, the more the President felt compelled to hold his ground.

That is one, perhaps unfortunate, personal trait of our President. Call him stubborn, pig-headed, if you will. But from past history, the more pressure is put on him to do something or take a certain position, the more likely he is to stay his course and defy the naysayers.

But consider P-Noy’s personal history. When his party was ambushed at the height of a coup attempt in 1987, his life was saved by a member of the Presidential Security Group (PSG), who lay on top of him, even if some shrapnel remains buried in his neck. And during those numerous coup tries, his mother Cory and his family survived only because they counted on the protection and support from military and police personnel who remained loyal not just to the Aquinos but to the country and to democracy.

Part of the President’s address to the survivors and comrades of the “Fallen 44” was particularly telling. No matter his deeply wounded feelings about the deaths, he said, he could not enjoy the “luxury” of giving way to his feelings and letting go of his anger and outrage.

So to infer that P-Noy sent those young SAF members to their deaths out of a mere selfish desire to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize (where did that come from?), or to pander to his American sponsors, would be to discount the deep well of gratitude he owes to the police and military who continue, through the PSG, to protect his life.

* * *

Making the rounds of social media is a new hashtag—#MoroLivesMatter.

The hashtag, I gather, is meant to remind us that while we justly mourn the “Fallen 44,” they weren’t the only ones who died in that firefight or in the course of it.

Fighters with the MILF and the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters likewise perished (as did Marwan), as well as civilians, including a five-year-old girl.

This is all of a pattern with previous coverage of the decades-long conflict, where the count focused on the deaths of military or police, forgetting that civilians, who were unarmed and had little to do with the fighting, had become “collateral damage.”

What message are we sending our Moro brothers and sisters? That only when they wear the uniforms of our armed services do their lives matter? That innocent civilians do not count, or worse, are a “natural” toll of fighting between the two sides?

* * *

Some estimates put the number of civilian deaths—most of them Muslims—in the course of decades of conflict at 100,000. Such a toll could not but have a psychological cost on the communities that were witness to the violence, fear and loathing that may very well still be strongly felt to this day. If we “Christians” still look with suspicion on the MILF and their intention, how much more distrust do you think Filipino Muslims hold against the government and the majority population? How much of a mental and emotional distance would they have had to bridge to get to where the peace talks are now?

We are all hurting, perhaps the people of Mindanao more than any of us who have spent all of our lives outside of it. Let not our grief—legitimate it may be—stand in the way of the long and arduous journey to peace.