Monday, February, 12 2007 Kin, colleagues brave risks to join UN probe into killings By Inday Espina-Varona Philip Alston, the UN special rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions, bears an extraordinary burden as he sits down this week with witnesses to the mounting number of political killings in the country. Alston will wade through conflicting reports and clashing ideologies. The veteran rights worker also knows—and will not be allowed to forget—that witnesses are appearing before him at great risk to their lives. They are children and spou­ses who witnessed the killings of loved ones, or activists who cradled dying colleagues in their arms. Many of them are themselves in hiding, hounded by state security forces. For months now, even years, they have huddled in the dark, protected by rights groups and religious organizations that labor to drag the cases through the Philippine legal maze. This week, they are stepping out in the light. Nightmare “This is a security nightmare,” says Marie Enriquez, secretary-general of Karapatan, of the arrangements for scores of witnesses. “Everybody is anxious and scared. But they are taking this sacrifice for the sake of truth.” Security is tight for Alston’s 10-day visit. As a representative of the UN, the rapporteur had to course his trip through the Philippine government. It took several tries; when President Arroyo’s administration finally consented to invite him, it assigned host duties to the National Security Council (NSC), led by National Security Adviser Norberto Gonzales who likes lumping militant legal groups with the underground Communist Party of the Philippines. Enriquez, whose group counts more than 800 victims of political killings since President Arroyo took office in 2001, says there was initial alarm among witnesses. “Alston has a good reputation but with all those intelligence agents, people thought it was like volunteering for their own funeral,” she notes. Dangers The media have been banned from covering the series of interviews with families of victims and several survivors of assassination attempts and abductions. There has been little outcry from journalists who know firsthand, from investigations into the murders of 48 of their colleagues since 2001, of the dangers witnesses face. Still, Enriquez says, she and other rights workers feel the intense pressure of the cat-and-mouse game with state security forces. It is one thing to get witnesses to the interviews. “What happens after is a bigger headache,” the rights worker says. In an informal talk with rights groups, Alston vowed he would raise hell if harm befalls any of the witnesses and rights workers involved in the investigation. But Enriquez says the UN investigator also admitted he could not guarantee anyone’s security. Rights work is no picnic, Enriquez admits. Among the people Alston will talk to Evan­geline Hernandez, mother of student journalist and Kara­patan researcher Benjaline, or Beng, who was killed by soldiers on April 5, 2002. The 22-year-old Hernandez, vice-president for Mindanao of the College Editors’ Guild of the Philippines, died while on a fact-finding mission to investigate a massacre in Arakan Valley, Co­tabato province. The Army’s 12th Special Forces Company and the 7th Airborne Battalion claimed Hernandez and three other youth died during an encounter with New People’s Army (NPA) rebels. Witnesses said Hernan­dez was wounded and then executed by soldiers. Results of an investigation by the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) affirmed the claim of Her­nandez’ family and friends. Evangeline, who leads Hus­tis­ya (Justice), an organization of families of victims of extrajudicial killings, says her daugh­ters’ friends are ready to tell their stories. “One of them is now 20; he was 16 when the murder happened,” she shares. The mother only hopes that the press for truth does not add to the number of victims. Disparate voices In keeping with UN impartiality, Alston sought the help of old friends to ensure he listens to a broad range of voices. The result, rights workers say, is startling. It is not a secret that militant legal organizations fractured into factions mirroring the splintering of the CPP in the early 1990s. The CPP’s armed wing, the New People’s Army (NPA), has acknowledged killing a few former top cadres involved in the acrimonious split. Most of the murders happened when the splinter group leaders were already heading legal groups. The factional strife spilled over to legal groups, even when its members had no direct links to the underground movement, giving rise to intense public spats. Since the start of 2007, however, these organizations have reached out to each other, realizing they are all targets for summary executions. Even more moderate groups that cooperated with the controversial Melo Commission, have reportedly bared to Alston their frustration over Malacañang’s decision to keep the special body’s report a secret. Alston will also listen to members of Peace Advocates for Truth, Healing and Justice (PATH), an organization devoted to seeking justice for torture survivors, families, relatives and friends of victims missing or executed during the 80s antiinfiltration campaigns of the CPP-NPA. PATH’s Gil Navarro says he is glad of a chance for the group to testify before an objective expert. While PATH is determined to seek justice for more than 1,000 victims of the Left’s purge, Navarro says it is also very troubled with the Arroyo administration’s efforts to exploit their legitimate cause for its anti­insurgency campaign.