Visual images speak louder than written testimonies. The growing use of CCTV cameras and widespread availability of videos have recently become part of a mounting concern for law enforcers abusive of their powers, as their actions can now be easily recorded. And thanks to social media, the footage can be exposed wide-scale.
Of late, images of a vendor in Paranaque City being handcuffed, pressed to the ground, and kicked in the face by a member of the city’s Task Force during clearing operations, which circulated on social media, spoke piercingly better than words. In the not so distant past, video documentation and social media also showed how a peddler in Quezon City was beaten up when he was accosted by police for violating quarantine restrictions.
Another police abuse, despite being caught on camera via CCTV, occurred when police officers were released from detention despite the seemingly overwhelming evidence that showed them summarily killing Army intelligence agents in Jolo. Of course, the case of 17-year-old Kian delos Santos who was fatally shot by police officers conducting an anti-drug operation in Caloocan City became controversial when the official police reports differed from witness accounts and CCTV footage.
I think the most alarming display of police arrogance was the case of Sergeant Jonel Nuezca, who, in the presence of his young daughter, brutally murdered a 52-year-old mother and her 25-year-old son in Tarlac. Nuezca knew he was being filmed; he knew his minor daughter could see what he was doing; yet he did what brutal barbarians do in medieval times. I think these few episodes of police brutality have been happening around the country quite a few times, as part of the lingering aftermath of martial law when law enforcement agents, given that much power, abused it to the detriment of the ordinary Juan. I am not saying that impunity and abuse by state agents are getting worse: They are just getting filmed.
This abusive mentality being demonstrated by state authorities is not limited to our country. France has struggled with tensions leading to police brutality. Ordinary citizens, the minority youth in most instances, suffer from the iron hands of law enforcers. Adama Traore was one of said French youth who was detained by the police in Beaumont-sur-Oise, north of Paris, after he resisted an ID check and died while in police custody. An infection was initially blamed but later examinations indicated he died of asphyxiation. His death in July 2016 led to a widespread protest. Such an expression of dislike, or repugnance to something, could indeed cost one his life!
The incidents follow a proverbial pattern: the blueprint commences at the height of a citizen’s resistance or display of disgust against police brutality. Tensions rise, confrontations take place, and violence is born and committed by the very same people who took an oath not to resort to it. After the fact, the brutality is blamed on the citizen, sometimes red-tagged as enemies of the state or outright liquidated, using the term—“nanlaban kasi.” At best, said events are followed by minute measures devised to illustrate that government has taken into account the excesses committed by certain scalawags in the uniformed service and assurances to improve an obvious yet unconfessed oversight. At worst, the government’s paralysis and abiding support for law enforcers mark the end of the chapter of “lost lives, on to the next.” Sadly, there seems to be no definitive and consistent public policy response that can directly attend to the underlying causes of these tensions that spawn generally from a citizen’s dislike for something.
Interestingly, the French have a word for a person or thing regarded with aversion. A bête noire may be anything from a one-time annoyance to something that disturbs you persistently over time. Police arrogance and abuse can be the bête noire of Juan’s existence these days. However, the ordinary Juan will likely not call out these authorities for their conceit and cruelty, out of fear of rebuke and contempt.
Everyone is aware of the government response against some of its most vocal critics in the persons of Sen. Leila de Lima and journalist Maria Ressa. Human- rights violations being their bête noire, these ladies pounded the drum of opposition to the current administration. Yet, some “extraordinary Juan,” such as Tony Lavina, Marites Vitug, Inday Espina, and even my own daughter Regina Elena, have done their share in pointing out and exposing what can be deemed as their own bête noire: government inefficiencies and inadequacies.
Exposing the abuses of government is like walking on a thin rope. You are either vulnerable to falling into a pit of danger or you continue to walk with anxiety and stress, internally deliberating whether a poisonous dart or a long-range spear will hit you from somewhere.
Images, live and digital, showing how student activism and media critics have merited the maltreatment from a few arrogant public officials are a cause for alarm. No wonder the ordinary Juan has shrunk into a cave of anxiety.
Exposing the bête noire that ills our society can come with fear. Not everyone can be a Leila de Lima who opted to be vocal in her dissent and thus remain in confinement for four years during her six-year term as senator. No sufficient safety nets seem to be in place for the protection of one’s freedom of speech.
Understandably so, since in this earthly realm, we all stand to face harm one way or another. And nothing, except our faith in our Creator, can allay our fears. Speaking out the truth, enforcing one’s right, resisting and exposing every bête noire, when done in the sphere of righteousness, should not make us cower with fright. When we recognize that we are in the comfort of God’s wings, we fear no one.
Under His shadow, we find peace, and refuge. Our Creator’s comfort sows confidence not apprehension, protection not peril. In the Bible, Psalm 91:4 tells us: “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” As the ordinary Juan may now find it risky to post his grievances on social media, he can be reminded of one of my go-to verses in the Bible: “Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.” (Psalms 23:4) If only our citizenry can have that same assurance of fortification and guarantee of security from our government, then all can be an extraordinary Juan. And anyone can go ahead and expose that bête noire.
A former infantry and intelligence officer in the Army, Siegfred Mison showcased his servant leadership philosophy in organizations such as the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, Malcolm Law Offices, Infogix Inc., University of the East, Bureau of Immigration, and Philippine Airlines. He is a graduate of West Point in New York, Ateneo Law School, and University of Southern California. A corporate lawyer by profession, he is an inspirational teacher and a Spirit-filled writer with a mission.
For questions and comments, please e-mail me at sbmison@gmail.com.