The former chief of the Philippine National Police appears to have a most curious idea about the nature and power of his job as the nation’s highest law enforcer (before he was suspended by the Ombudsman on graft charges). Last year, when Alan Purisima appeared before the Senate to explain a raft of controversies swirling around his name—such as the construction of lavish quarters in the PNP compound, a P3.7-million property in Nueva Ecija, and his purchase of luxury cars—he offered the rote disclaimer that his powerful position carried any influence at all, or that it had the potential to involve him in unethical, conflict-of-interest situations.
The construction of the “White House,” for instance, a grand residence meant to replace the old quarters of the PNP chief, turned out to have been funded by “donations” from businessmen—who just happened to have had multimillion-peso transactions with the PNP under Purisima’s watch. He saw no irregularity in their willingness to be generous to him, the same grateful attitude that governed his purchase of a Land Cruiser at P1.5 million when it normally costs P6-P7 million.
“I got a big discount,” he said—the discount being more than 70 percent. No ordinary buyer would get such largesse, of course. And the top honcho of the 140,000-strong police force was the very definition of a special buyer—a fact that should have given him pause when the extraordinary discount or the hefty “donations” for his new abode were offered to him. Aside from the matter of ethics, there is the concrete prohibition laid down by the law against government officials receiving immoderate gifts and endowments during their tenure, to ensure that their positions are not used for plunder, influence-peddling and other corrupt practices.
Such a callow view of one’s commanding position in the sociopolitical hierarchy could only have meant either of two things: that Purisima indeed thought there was nothing wrong with being the object of unusual altruism by outside interests, or that he knew the gravity of the ethical high-wire act in which he was engaging, but went ahead with it anyway because the benefits (that’s a P4.5-million discount, after all) outweighed the risks. But whether he was truly naive or was in fact a cunning operator, either mindset should have been a deal-breaker. Anyone with core principles like that should not have been given one of the most sensitive positions in the government.
Now why do we bring this up? Because the man’s appallingly cavalier attitude toward the power and reach of his former office was once more on display, and with far more tragic consequences, in the wake of the bloody Jan. 25 clash between police forces and Moro rebels in Mamasapano, Maguindanao. According to testimony at the Senate hearing chaired by Sen. Grace Poe, Purisima, already removed from the chain of command in view of his suspension from office, was still deep enough in the loop that he was present at a couple of top-secret briefings made for President Benigno Aquino III by the Special Action Force commander, Director Getulio Napeñas, on the impending operation against two terrorists.
Purisima said he was there merely as an “observer.” But Napeñas revealed that the former PNP chief told him not to inform the acting PNP chief, Deputy Director General Leonardo Espina, and the Armed Forces chief of staff, Gen. Gregorio Catapang Jr., about the plan. Purisima’s explanation? “That was not an order but an advice.”
Here we go again—the same cockamamie stance that his words, and the enormous authority of his position, did not carry the weight they did. Napeñas is Purisima’s subordinate; they are both products of a lifetime of institutional drilling that an officer’s word has to be obeyed, on pain of severe consequences. Also, Purisima had the loyal ear of the Commander in Chief. He now says he had absolutely no role in the botched operation that killed 44 SAF commandos; yet his “advice” to a subordinate officer—did he actually expect Napeñas not to heed it?—appears to have directly contributed to the monumental confusion and miscoordination between the PNP and AFP that characterized the operation and sealed its bloody fate.
Advice, order, or whatever, Purisima’s words were, at the very least, irresponsible and reckless. It was the monkey wrench that tripped up the Mamasapano operation. Resigning from his post should not absolve him of culpability in this debacle.