Eradicating jueteng

You can’t repeal the law of supply and demand, so I’m cynical about the chances of long-term success of any campaign to eradicate jueteng in this land of inveterate gamblers.

The Small-Town Lottery (STL) was supposed to wipe out the illegal competition. But how can you compete with a game where bets as low as 25 cents are accepted? Even if the bettor simply doubles his money, it’s still a 100 percent return. Cheap thrills, but the investment is negligible, it’s a quick buck, it’s fun, and playing the game requires less effort than pulling the lever on the old-model casino slot machine.

Even if the princes of the Catholic Church shout themselves hoarse about the evils of gambling, ordinary folks don’t see how this is so. The moral argument is further weakened by the operation of state-sanctioned gambling, whose beneficiaries include charities and religious organizations.

The moral argument is further weakened by the admission of some bishops that certain princes of the Church accept contributions from jueteng operators.

As long as there’s a demand, the supply will be there. And as long as such a hugely profitable operation remains illegal, it will survive through the corruption of those who are supposed to put a stop to it.

How much are we talking about here? A former interior secretary told me that the “feeler” sent to him was P10 million a month to look the other way. He brushed aside the feeler (he said) and ordered the police to implement a no-nonsense crackdown.

He said he realized that he could not completely eradicate jueteng. But as long as the game remained illegal, he hoped constant harassment of those engaged in it would discourage the corruption that stemmed from the numbers game.

The interior chief didn’t last long in his post, and neither did the jueteng crackdown. But he did manage to push for tougher penalties for illegal gambling.

The amounts of fines are still laughable for people who can afford to offer P10 million in monthly bribes to the interior secretary. Jueteng lords set aside funds to bail out their collectors and other workers who get arrested in periodic police raids.

What the workers in the illegal industry fear more is imprisonment. If P-Noy’s administration is serious in its crackdown on jueteng, cops should be instructed to keep a record of arrest of every individual booked for illegal gambling. The next time the individual is arrested, he can be charged as a recidivist, which will warrant a heavier penalty. The fine and the prison term become heavier with every repeat offense. Three months behind bars can be endured, but three years? A man can have second thoughts about working as a jueteng bet collector.

Every foot soldier arrested should also be required to identify under oath the financier of the jueteng operations. Apart from the filing of criminal charges for illegal gambling against the financier, his identification by several bet collectors should warrant a lifestyle check and subsequent indictment for tax evasion. He should also be investigated for money laundering.

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Someone with criminal intent must be prevented from committing his crime. If he commits it, he must be stopped. And if he pulls it off, he must be prevented from enjoying its proceeds.

If President Aquino is serious in his plan to eradicate jueteng, he should go one step further than a sustained police crackdown and hit the jueteng operators where it hurts: in their bank accounts.

For this he doesn’t need the Cabinet member with whom he has “philosophical differences,” Jesse Robredo, but the one who is among a handful of officials accompanying him in his first overseas trip, to the United States: Finance Secretary Cesar Purisima.

The finance chief has an energetic, respected person in the Bureau of Internal Revenue, Kim Henares, who can run after tax-evading jueteng lords.

Over the years fears have been raised about the emergence of narco-politics in this country. What has actually emerged is gambling politics. Jueteng lords have used their massive illegal gambling earnings to finance political campaigns and win public office, successfully laundering dirty money and buying themselves respectability. Some have even started building political dynasties.

Worse, jueteng lords learn early that if they don’t share, they go to hell. Apart from financing legitimate police operations (openly admitted in the past by certain police officials), the country’s gambling barons are among the biggest sources of campaign funds in all elections, from presidential races to the barangay polls.

Jueteng cannot thrive without the knowledge of barangay officials and the consent of the local government and police. Spreading the jueteng wealth around guarantees its continued existence.

The beneficiaries know that proving jueteng payoffs is almost impossible in this country where no one affixes his signature or even thumbprint to anything resembling a receipt for a bribe.

The other remedy is to legalize jueteng, operating it as it is, without any form of tax on the bettor that could cut winnings or raise the amount of the minimum bet.

Fugitive Sen. Panfilo Lacson, who as national police chief reportedly turned down his allotment of jueteng payoffs, has long pushed for the legalization of the popular game, mainly to stop the corruption that it breeds.

If P-Noy decides to take this path, he will need a good argument to blunt the expected criticism from the Church.

If the President doesn’t have the appetite for such a confrontation, he can instead tell his finance team to deliver a convincing message to the jueteng lords that illegal gambling does not pay.