WE CAN all sleep soundly  each night in the certainty that the  Armed Forces of the Philippines is on guard and watching over us.   Regardless of such technicalities as due process and human rights, it is  at this very moment protecting  us  not only from explosives experts  pretending to be  health workers,  pregnant mothers and  nine-year old  girls able to carry and even fire M-16 assault rifles taller than  themselves,  but also from trade union leaders, community activists,  lawyers,  church people and even a botanist or two.
Like that other model of selfless, honest and efficient public  service, the Philippine National Police, the AFP’s job is also to serve  and protect.  Neither  always says who they’re protecting and serving,  but they do occasionally mention something called “the people,”  by whom  we can reasonably surmise from their near-common histories and current  actions they mean the hacenderos, the warlords, the foreign mining  companies and the other worthies who have made this country such a  heaven for themselves by making it hell for  the 90 million others who  have to live in this archipelago of fear. After all, there’s a rumor  that even your friendly local warlord and hacendero are human, too.  Think Ampatuan. Think local officials who mastermind the assassination  of journalists. Think certain Philippine presidents.
Since the AFP was founded by the United States at the turn of the  century, allegedly as an offspring of the Katipunan but in truth to hunt  down its remnants, it’s been doing a great job of serving and  protecting not only local worthies but also its primary foreign patron —  the one that keeps it in arms and provides its chosen officers the  training they need in, among others, the fine arts of torture and  mayhem.
Recall the campaign against the Huks, and how certain units of the  the AFP under the benign guidance of the Central Intelligence Agency did  their bit for God, democracy, country and the United States by impaling  on poles the severed heads of peasant leaders it had captured and  parading them through the country’s villages to impart to the peasantry  the signal lesson that it doesn’t pay to rebel, neither hunger nor  oppression being reason enough to challenge the democratic order.
Recall the martial law period and how the officer corps defended  democracy by serving and protecting Ferdinand Marcos, and how, later —  much, much later — some of its members’ reinvented themselves as secret  Marcos opponents, took credit for his downfall, and, by using the logic  taught them in that magnificent wellspring of intellectual excellence,  the Philippine Military Academy, they then  condemned the release of  Marcos political prisoners. Think Rex Robles. Think Gregorio Honasan.
Think of others such as Trillanes, who believe that launching a  putsch overnight is on the same level of patriotism as years of fighting  injustice.  Think PMA Class of 1978. Think “the fist of martial law”  (Alfred McCoy’s phrase in his book, Closer Than Brothers), and remember  the brightest and the best sons and daughters of the Filipino people —  poets, social workers, cancer surgeons among others — the AFP  killed  between 1972 and 1986 in furtherance of the democratic ideal.  Think of  the coup attempts from 1986 to 1989, and the bodies they left behind.  Think Lean Alejandro; think Rolando Olalia. Think of the over 1,000  victims of extrajudicial killings between 2000 and 2010.
Now segue to the present, and think Morong 43.  Listen to the AFP as  it unashamedly announces to the world its conviction that due process,  and by implication the very law itself, is a mere technicality.  Thus  did an AFP spokesman wave aside the Department of Justice’s findings —  on which President Aquino III based his order to drop the charges  against them — that the arrest of the 43 was flawed. Declaring that they  would respect Mr. Aquino’s decision — suggesting thereby that the AFP  had a choice in the matter — he also said in the same breath that the  AFP “stands by” the “legitimacy” of the so-called operation that, armed  with a warrant of arrest for a fictitious person, went on to blindfold  the 43 men and women they found  in an address the warrant did not  specify, took them to one of their camps, and proceeded to  psychologically and physically torture, humiliate and subject them to  various indignities.
Many people have condemned not only the AFP’s violations of the human  rights of the Morong 43, but also the statements the AFP made following  the Aquino government decision to withdraw the charges against the  health workers. But think national security. Think of clear and present  danger; think dangerous tendencies — and think AFP.
Why should this great institution conceal its historic dedication to  the defense of democracy, which it believes consists of short circuiting  its own processes (or “technicalities”)?  Why should it conceal its  core principle that might is right — that being in possession of guns  endows it with a power far above and beyond that of the courts and the  Constitution?   Shouldn’t we instead be thankful for  the AFP’s most  recent statements for being as candid as its communication skills allow,  and for coming so close to declaring its  true sentiments as it pursues  its mission of defending democracy from itself?
Why should it pretend to a logic it doesn’t possess and to which it  is immune, its officers having been indoctrinated, from their very first  day at the PMA, that only the logic of violence is real, as  upperclassmen demonstrate when initiating lowerclassmen  into the values  of the officer corps? And why should the AFP be made to fret over the  fact that the health workers, during the months of their captivity,  could have otherwise been serving the health needs of the neglected  communities, since these very same communities are the infinite sources  of the political and community activists, human rights workers and other  malcontents whose very existence so offends their democratic  sensibilities they’ve had to rid the country of hundreds of them?
Those who fear for the future of human rights, who’re alarmed by the  violations of due process committed supposedly in the service of  national security, need a reality check. They should stop expecting too  much of an institution that, by serving and protecting, has  been the  force most responsible for keeping things the way they are in the  country of our despair.(BusinessWorld)
(Reprinted with permission from Prof. Luis V. Teodoro) 
Source:  LuisTeodoro.com
URL: 
http://www.luisteodoro.com/clear-and-present-danger/