If Arlyn’s own colleagues are confused or suspicious of her tale, so too is the military that’s tasked to hunt down Moro separatists and Islamic terrorists. When news of her disappearance and possible abduction first hit the headlines in January, AFP officers were quoted about their theories. Marines in Sulu said it was a set up and preferred not to bother themselves with it. Army spies in faraway Cotabato believed it a genuine abduction and noted the flurry of civilian leaders willing to negotiate a ransom for a fee. The AFP Southern Command had ordered a rescue operation. But it was taken by surprise by Arlyn’s sudden release through Legarda’s efforts. All an Army spokesman could say was that they’re glad it’s over. Another spokesman for the AFP Southcom still showed reluctance to accept Arlyn’s account and told reporters she should prove it by filing charges in court.
Legarda purposely had kept the military out of the negotiation, fearful perhaps of a bungled rescue shootout or a leak; she was just out to save a human life. The senator refused to say if ransom was paid, although there was much talk about a few hundred-thousand pesos for "board and lodging."
Officers’ suspicions notwithstanding, the AFP would serve its own purposes well to look into Arlyn’s story instead of leaving it to the courts. Only then would it be able to make heads or tails of the confusing events.
Arlyn told reporters that her abductors she was carrying ransom for the Burnhams. They knew she was seeking out the Abu Sayyaf’s Janjalani for videotaping in an island farther south than Jolo. All they got from her were her provisions, a cellphone and P2,000 cash.
Arlyn further recounted that her captors seemed to have connections with the military. They came and went in military uniforms, and talked about collecting their fortnightly salaries from military superiors. This bolsters the theory that they could be MNLF integrees into the AFP.
Close to 3,000 members of the MNLF’s Bangsa Moro Army were absorbed into the PNP and the AFP after its separatist leader Nur Misuari signed a peace settlement with President Fidel Ramos in 1996. It was one way of getting the rebels to register their rifles with security forces, and at the same time give them jobs. The peace pact called for the posting of the former rebels in police or military units near their hometowns. But it specifically forbade the mobilization of the "integrees" in battles against other separatists, such as the Moro Islamic Liberation Front. Yet some of their platoons were used just the same as blocking forces when the AFP in mid-2000 swept into the MILF’s sprawling Camp Abubakar in Central Mindanao. Did the integrees, mostly Tausogs from Zamboanga, Sulu and Tawi-Tawi, relish shooting at "rivals" of Maguindanao or Maranao extraction? Or did it rekindle in them the dream of secession, especially since Misuari was at that time complaining about how the government continually failed to deliver on its promise of large-scale development of Mindanao? Whatever, it should be recalled that dozens of MNLF integrees in the PNP and AFP joined Misuari’s uprising in Jolo last November.
It may not be all that bad. Majority of the Bangsa Moro rebels who joined the police and military services could be loyal to the government and the peace pact. After all, majority of their MNLF leaders are, and continue to hold elective and appointive positions in the Autonomous Region for Muslim Mindanao and even national agencies. Still, the AFP should, with the help of police and other civilian authorities, debrief Arlyn on her ordeal. To dismiss her story as case-closed now that she’s free would spur other suspicions, this time about the AFP. There is a version that the AFP high command, unsure of what Arlyn was up to in Sulu, had her abducted and neutralized by MNLF rebels who have a love-hate relationship with their "juniors" from the Abu Sayyaf.
Strictly speaking a university is an institution of higher learning and research. It has an undergraduate division that confers bachelor’s degrees, and a graduate division for master’s degrees and doctorates. In the case of state-owned Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corporation, chairman Efraim Genuino clarifies that what Pagcor is planning is solely for gaming management, no more, no less. Its training center will serve only Pagcor’s 11,000 or so employees who wish to upgrade their skills and cash in on a global employment boom in gaming and entertainment supervision.
The Pagcor Academy may be the first in Asia, but not in the world. Gaming schools operate all over the US, from Las Vegas to Florida, and in Switzerland, Britain and Canada. President Gloria Arroyo was cajoled by critics and church leaders into saying she was against a casino university. Yet all Pagcor’s board did was approve a training program for employees and call it the Pagcor Academy.
As Genuino sees it, the worldwide trend of governments going into, or liberalizing its laws on, gaming is spurring a demand for experts in casino operations and related fields like lottos and entertainment. Pagcor could itself offer its management services in countries that are only now allowing or expanding casino businesses, in much the same way that sea and airport experts bid for overseas contracts. But for now, Genuino aims to get his employees higher-paying positions abroad.
Gaming sucked in roughly $900 billion in bets last year, according to an April cover story in Forbes Global. Gross revenue (bets minus payouts) was at $250 billion. Yet it was a year of slowdowns owning to the 9/11 attacks and Japan’s continuing depression.
Governments, arguing for competitiveness but in truth spotting tax jackpots, are starting to cash in. Britain, which allowed only 118 casinos in the past 35 years and only under strict rules on club membership and the number of slot machines, will double the number by next year with lighter rules. Canada has laws against Las Vegas-type operations, but will soon designate certain cities to open casino districts. France, Australia and New Zealand led the liberalization trend in the early ’90s and now rake it big in international lotteries. Germany followed suit and soon Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Mexico and Venezuela joined the craze. In recent months, officials in Czechoslovakia, South Korea, India, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar and Nepal allowed key cities to host casinos. Even North Korea, Cuba and some Middle east governments allow casinos in border towns or islands. Filipino finance managers already have flocked to these countries for fat salaries. It’s only inevitable that casino managers would comprise the next wave of recruits to the operations.