Terrorism Law curbs mobility of innocents
March 9, 2007 | 12:00am
Of course we need an antiterrorism law. We have to shield ourselves from those who violently would impose a religion or way of life. We must punish those who kill, maim or destroy in the name of creed or race.
But should we do it at the expense of sacrificing our basic freedoms?
The Human Security Act of 2007 does just that  at least in one rider.
Section 26 is about "Restriction of Travel". But it does more than that. It practically restricts contact with the outside world of mere suspects and even of innocents.
It states: "In cases where evidence of guilt is not strong (underscoring mine), and the person charged with the crime of terrorism or conspiracy to commit terrorism is entitled to bail and is granted the same, the court, upon application by the prosecutor, shall limit the right of travel of the accused to within the municipality or city where he resides or where the case is pending...."
More than that, "he or she may be placed under house arrest by order of the court at his or her usual place of residence."
And, "while under house arrest, he or she may not use telephones, cell phones, e-mails, computers, the internet or other means of communications with people outside the residence until otherwise ordered by the court."
Terrorists, once in power like Afghanistan’s Taliban, would rein in basic freedoms to worship, speak, assemble, move, communicate, and seek justice. In aiming to fight or deter terrorism, the Human Security Act does just that. Without having to strike, terrorists already have won with Section 26.
No wonder that Atty. Joel Cadiz, president just past of the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, and Atty. Neri Colmenares of the Asian Law Center are downcast. The very section terrorizes.
Note that Section 26 applies when evidence is weak or a suspect is most probably innocent and thus granted bail. Weakness arises from either shabby police work or false charges from the start. Even then, a lazy cop or false accuser may run to a persuadable new judge to have the suspect’s movements and contacts restricted.
Section 26’s very caption, "Restriction of Travel", is deceptive. It curbs communication and worship as well, and along with those the right of the accused to dispensation of justice. Where will it end for a victim of sloppy investigation or trumped up charges?
The authors and approvers of Section 26 may not have entertained ill motives. Lawyers Cadiz and Colmenares blame the "bad crafting" to haste. Section 26 is embedded between Sections 24-25, which forbid and penalize torture and coercion during investigation or interrogation, and Sections 27-38, all about how to examine bank accounts without overstepping the Bank Secrecy Act. All these obviously aim to allay the fears of civil libertarians.
Still, one cannot but dread Section 26. In the hands of a madman, like one who would call a United Nations executive a mere gofer or uphold the law only because reminded by his boss’ daughter, it is prone to abuse. The provision of P500,000 daily compensation may mean nothing for those unjustly accused or treated.
My piece on Filipino frazzled logic (Gotcha, 7 Mar. 2007) elicited from readers more examples of crazy rules.
Candidates for police officer training not only must have at most just two teeth with pasta, but also have P100,000 to pay their way through. A female criminology grad, who since childhood had wanted to be a cop, backed out when told of the unaffordable expense. And to think that the entry pay in the force is P12,000 a month.
Here’s another zany rule, at the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration. The POEA requires a new placement agency to first have explicit job orders from an overseas employer before it can apply for a permit to operate. But precisely the outfit cannot operate legally and take job orders if it has no license. Meanwhile, of course, the new agency also must have P1 million paid-up capital, plus another P500,000 in escrow in case of problem overseas of recruits, and maintain a full-staffed office while the license application is being processed. Without these, the new company is deemed fly-by-night. How can a new entrant then afford to not charge fees from recruits and employers alike?
A similar rule bewilders any new airline seeking a license from the Civil Aeronautics Board. To apply, the new company must already have a fleet of several commercial jets. Yet, why would somebody invest in a fleet worth billions of dollars, and then risk not getting the permit at all.
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But should we do it at the expense of sacrificing our basic freedoms?
The Human Security Act of 2007 does just that  at least in one rider.
Section 26 is about "Restriction of Travel". But it does more than that. It practically restricts contact with the outside world of mere suspects and even of innocents.
It states: "In cases where evidence of guilt is not strong (underscoring mine), and the person charged with the crime of terrorism or conspiracy to commit terrorism is entitled to bail and is granted the same, the court, upon application by the prosecutor, shall limit the right of travel of the accused to within the municipality or city where he resides or where the case is pending...."
More than that, "he or she may be placed under house arrest by order of the court at his or her usual place of residence."
And, "while under house arrest, he or she may not use telephones, cell phones, e-mails, computers, the internet or other means of communications with people outside the residence until otherwise ordered by the court."
Terrorists, once in power like Afghanistan’s Taliban, would rein in basic freedoms to worship, speak, assemble, move, communicate, and seek justice. In aiming to fight or deter terrorism, the Human Security Act does just that. Without having to strike, terrorists already have won with Section 26.
No wonder that Atty. Joel Cadiz, president just past of the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, and Atty. Neri Colmenares of the Asian Law Center are downcast. The very section terrorizes.
Note that Section 26 applies when evidence is weak or a suspect is most probably innocent and thus granted bail. Weakness arises from either shabby police work or false charges from the start. Even then, a lazy cop or false accuser may run to a persuadable new judge to have the suspect’s movements and contacts restricted.
Section 26’s very caption, "Restriction of Travel", is deceptive. It curbs communication and worship as well, and along with those the right of the accused to dispensation of justice. Where will it end for a victim of sloppy investigation or trumped up charges?
The authors and approvers of Section 26 may not have entertained ill motives. Lawyers Cadiz and Colmenares blame the "bad crafting" to haste. Section 26 is embedded between Sections 24-25, which forbid and penalize torture and coercion during investigation or interrogation, and Sections 27-38, all about how to examine bank accounts without overstepping the Bank Secrecy Act. All these obviously aim to allay the fears of civil libertarians.
Still, one cannot but dread Section 26. In the hands of a madman, like one who would call a United Nations executive a mere gofer or uphold the law only because reminded by his boss’ daughter, it is prone to abuse. The provision of P500,000 daily compensation may mean nothing for those unjustly accused or treated.
Candidates for police officer training not only must have at most just two teeth with pasta, but also have P100,000 to pay their way through. A female criminology grad, who since childhood had wanted to be a cop, backed out when told of the unaffordable expense. And to think that the entry pay in the force is P12,000 a month.
Here’s another zany rule, at the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration. The POEA requires a new placement agency to first have explicit job orders from an overseas employer before it can apply for a permit to operate. But precisely the outfit cannot operate legally and take job orders if it has no license. Meanwhile, of course, the new agency also must have P1 million paid-up capital, plus another P500,000 in escrow in case of problem overseas of recruits, and maintain a full-staffed office while the license application is being processed. Without these, the new company is deemed fly-by-night. How can a new entrant then afford to not charge fees from recruits and employers alike?
A similar rule bewilders any new airline seeking a license from the Civil Aeronautics Board. To apply, the new company must already have a fleet of several commercial jets. Yet, why would somebody invest in a fleet worth billions of dollars, and then risk not getting the permit at all.
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