Reliable sources

Next week, on December 7th to be exact, will fall an anniversary which may not warrant another declaration of a public non-working holiday, but is nevertheless significant, at least for the country’s news media

Fifty years ago, on December 7, 1955, the Pasay City Court of First Instance (now called the Regional Trial Court), with Judge Emilio Rilloraza presiding, cited five news reporters in direct contempt of court and sentenced them to one month in jail unless, before expiration of that period, the reporters or any of them made to the Court the "revelation" demanded of them.

What was that "revelation?" The Court wanted to know the source of their story, a big and precedent-setting one at the time, involving a Cabinet secretary accused of murdering a witness against him, an alleged extortion case to "persuade" a judge to render a judgment of acquittal and a sting operation which snagged the alleged extortionists.

The names of the reporters are familiar both to old hands in media, as well as to those who yearn for the "good old days" of tough, no-nonsense editors and swashbuckling, fearless reporters. Most of the newspapers they worked for have gone out of business. Four of the newsmen have passed on to the Great Newsroom in the Sky: Jose D. Aspiras of the Evening News (of course, later the legendary Sunshine Joe of the Ministry of Tourism), Francisco de Leon of the Manila Chronicle, Manuel B. Salak of the Manila Times, and Gregorio Coronel of the Philippine News Service.

The fifth was Max J. Edralin of the Philippines Herald. Max is, of course, the Public Relations guru and pioneer, who is still very much around, actively practicing his craft as Consultant to the Governor of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas. It was Max who reminded me of this story and its significance in the annals of Philippine media. With his dramatic old clippings, supplemented by research into old Philippine Supreme Court decisions on the matter, we rediscovered one reason why, from 1946, our local press has had a reputation of being one of the world’s freest and most vibrant.

The reason is that in this country we have a law that protects the confidentiality of confidential news sources. But how we got there is the story Max urges us to retell, In sum, it took the imprisonment of five reporters to get no less than a Supreme Court to issue a writ of habeas corpus in record time, a Congress to pass an amendatory law in less than six months, and a sympathetic President to sign it immediately.

As Max recounts it, the story began during the administration of President Elpidio Quirino, a few months before the 1953 presidential elections. Quirino’s Secretary of National Defense and concurrent Secretary of Justice was Oscar Castelo who, although widely regarded as the most powerful man in government at the time, was the respondent in disbarment proceedings filed against him by the storied Senator Claro M. Recto.

The star witness against Castelo was one Manuel Monroy. To make a long story short, Monroy was later killed. Suspicion focused on Castelo and a murder case was filed against the latter in due course. The trial of the case, before Judge Emilio Rilloraza of the Pasay City Court of First Instance (now the Regional Trial Court), was overtaken by the 1953 presidential elections won by Ramon Magsaysay, Sr. But by 1955, the case seemed ripe for a decision.

On March 18, 1955, thirteen days before the promulgation of the decision, Castelo called a press conference in his home. The five reporters were among the media in attendance. Castelo said he had information he was about to reveal, but since his case was still sub judice at the time, he made clear he would disclose it only if the reporters gathered would undertake not to quote him or attribute the story to him. All the reporters present agreed and so promised.

His story was about two "matrons" who approached him to say that they had information Judge Rilloraza would render a decision finding him guilty of the murder of Manuel Monroy and sentencing him to death. However, the matrons allegedly said, they knew the Judge personally and would persuade him to either reduce the sentence or acquit Castelo in exchange for P100,000. The money was no small change at that time.

Obviously, it was an out-and-out extortion attempt, but Castelo said he would try to raise the money. He subsequently called the matrons to a second meeting at a restaurant in Roxas Boulevard. At that meeting, Castelo arranged for hidden cameras, tape recorders and Philippine Constabulary and Army intelligence agents disguised as waiters to fully document the proceedings. He told the matrons he was unable to raise the money, but the alleged extortion attempt was on record.

The story was carried was carried on all newspapers the following day, March 19th. As an editorial judgment, Max Edralin’s paper, The Philippines Herald, decided not to run it but did use Max’s follow-up stories later. Secretary Castelo was never identified as the source – indeed, this is a revelation which Max made only recently, when most of the parties concerned, including Secretary Castelo, were long gone – and the story was attributed only to "reliable sources."

On March 31, 1955, Judge Rilloraza actually promulgated the decision finding Oscar Castelo and seven other co-accused persons guilty of murder and imposing the death penalty on them. End of story? Obviously not. Months later, on September 31, 1955, the five reporters received subpoenae to face Judge Rilloraza who was poised to cite them in direct contempt of court unless they identified the source of their March 19th story. The Judge said the disclosure was necessary in order to preserve the integrity and dignity of his court and of the entire judiciary.

The reporters refused and argued that their stories were published in the exercise of a constitutional right to report all matters of public concern. Besides, as the Judge assertedly admitted, the stories had not influenced his decision in the case.

The Judge was adamant. On December 7, 1955, he issued the decision citing the five reporters in contempt and sentencing them to 30 days in jail. The then Pasay Chief of Police, Col. Ricardo Nieva, immediately led them to the city jail.

A storm of enraged public reaction and frantic official action followed. No less than President and Mrs. Ramon Magsaysay were the first visitors of the confined reporters. The rest of the story and its denouement, not by judicial but by congressional action, in our next column.