Last Tuesday, November 23, I was in the mass of humanity that converged atop a hill at the end of a narrow winding road in sitio Masalay, Ampatuan, Maguindanao.
It was the second time I had gone this past year to the site of the gruesome massacre exactly a year ago. Again, despite the searing heat of the sun, a chill went down my spine and I felt a strong urge to cry out for justice. Most of the others in the crowd, not just the relatives of the 58 victims, surely felt the same way.
What an irony, I thought, that this beautiful, green terrain rolling towards the mountains yonder would be chosen by certain power-mad people to be their killing field and burial ground for their perfidy.
It would have been more convenient for me to join the commemorations held in Manila by journalists and other concerned citizens hoping to keep the November 23 massacre vivid in the public consciousness until justice for the victims had been attained.
But going to Mindanao would enable me to speak once more with the immediate relatives of the victims, some of whom I had already met last February. Somehow - perhaps because I myself have experienced the violation of my human rights - there is a deep, instant sympathy I feel for them. I remember what my mother and siblings went through. I know what it feels like to be physically helpless at the hands of brutal people in power, when my only shield was to hold on to the belief in my own humanity.
Since that earlier time under the Marcos dictatorship, it has been my foremost advocacy to seek justice for the victims of politically motivated extrajudicial killing and enforced disappearance. Tragically, these crimes have been encouraged by successive administrations even after the supposed restoration of democracy.
The anguish and outrage I felt upon seeing on television the mangled bodies dug up in sitio Masalay was the same anguish and outrage I felt upon seeing the bodies of fellow human rights workers Eden Marcellana and Eduardo Gumanoy in Mindoro in 2002: anguish over their unjustifiable slaying, outrage over the unspeakable brutality inflicted on them.
The Alliance against Impunity in Mindanao (AIM), which invited me to join the caravan to the site and the interfaith rites last Tuesday, declares that its objectives are “to continue our call for justice,” and “to seek an end to the state of impunity in defense of our rights and liberties.”
All of those responsible for the Ampatuan massacre must be arrested, prosecuted, convicted and punished, as the alliance rightly insists. If that happens, it could be a breakthrough in the fight against impunity. If not, this could be “one of the wors(t) cases of impunity in our country,” AIM says.
For me, such a prospect provided a broader perspective to the commemoration. The fight against impunity - a condition that emboldens those who commit human rights violations because they feel assured that they cannot be arrested and punished - has been part of the struggle for change I have been engaged in for decades. Hence, I have a personal stake in the proper resolution of this case.
Still, there are reasons to be concerned. The trial of the case has been too slow, as Justice Secretary Leila de Lima herself has conceded.
And President Aquino’s official statement on Nov. 23 was a letdown. He didn’t offer any definitive action by his administration to ensure the early conclusion of the trial and the conviction of the accused, led by Andal Ampatuan Jr. (who has been arraigned) and his father, Andal Sr. (yet to be arraigned).
In his statement read by Secretary de Lima, President Aquino did acknowledge that the resolution of the case “has become the litmus test of our justice system” and “one of the top priorities of the Justice Department.” He declared “we will not rest until justice has been served” and vowed “to do everything in our power to achieve a timely resolution of this case and ensure that this does not happen again.”
But he could have said more.
One action the President could have promised, after pointing out that of the 196 accused only 81 have been arrested, was to have the 115 others arrested too. These persons, as pointed out by Maguindanao Gov. Esmael Mangu-dadatu, are armed, encamped in and freely moving around in certain towns of the province. They remain a source of power to the detained Ampatuans, and they pose a grave and imminent threat to the lives and safety of witnesses and their families.
Gov. Mangudadatu cited an instance when a small police arresting team cornered one of the accused. He was set free because 100 armed Ampatuan men surrounded the arresting team.
Are the military and police forces in Maguindanao so inept, or hesitant, to arrest these men, many of whom belonged to paramilitary units they had worked with, when they have more power under a declared state of emergency?