Test case

When the Aquino government yielded to Chinese pressure and, quite embarrassingly, boycotted last year’s Nobel Peace Prize ceremony, we were told that this was necessary to save the lives of Filipino drug mules in Chinese prisons.

By agreeing to the boycott and then undiplomatically disclosing it, President Aquino set himself up for a crucial political test. He did not have to do it, of course. Had he kept his silence, allowed his spokesmen to just go on peddling the lie that our ambassador had a simple conflict in schedule, he would not have had to justify this shameful policy decision by saying it was to save the lives of Filipino drug mules in China.

But what is said is said. We have taken the flak from the global community for a cowardly foreign policy decision. Now the President’s reputation is on the line, depending on what happens to the convicts.

If the first batch of three Filipinos due to be executed on Monday are instead spared, Aquino may justly claim credit for the act of mercy. If they are executed on schedule, Aquino will justly have to take the blame for inviting the scorn of the global human rights community in an impossible bargain we should not have accepted in the first place.

 We trust that when the foreign policy decision to boycott the Oslo event was taken, there was a clear quid pro quo with Chinese authorities. That, at least, enables us some return for the great embarrassment we courted.

If there was no understanding, and the case of the convicted drug mules was pulled up merely as an afterthought in the course of disclosing our participation in the boycott, then the President willfully slipped into a winless predicament. That can only be the outcome of failing to think things through.

At any rate, President Aquino is already heavily invested in the case of the convicted drug mules. We have paid a heavy price for the foreign policy decision taken on the Oslo ceremonies. We have been mocked by the community of civilized states for kowtowing to Beijing’s whim.

Since the nation paid the reputational price for this decision, Aquino should play his gambit to the hilt. He must put his own reputation on the line for the convicts, issue a public call or write a formal letter to the Chinese leadership pleading for mercy for countrymen on the edge of the gallows. Even better, he should make a call to his counterpart in Beijing to personally present a humanitarian plea.

He cannot just cite the case of the drug convicts to justify a policy decision and do nothing else as they are marched to the site of execution. Having made such a large investment of the nation’s prestige in the decision to boycott the Peace Prize, he must now push some of his own political chips into the pot to save Filipino lives, having claimed earlier this was his duty to perform.

Having broken the code of diplomatic discretion, the gallant thing to do is to play this game to the end. This is what mature statesmen do.

Straddled

Controversial LTO chief Virginia Torres offers her own take on the curious events of last December 9, when one group of private security guards invaded the offices of the technology company servicing the agency and tried to throw out the other group of security guards keeping watch over the facility. She describes herself as haplessly caught in the crossfire of a boardroom battle.

Prior to that curious invasion, two factions of shareholders battled for control of technology company Stradcom. Torres, who says she was on the scene to ensure the continuity of services for the LTO, blames in equal measure the two contending factions: the Sumbilla group for engineering the clumsy invasion using guards from another security company and the Quiambao group for failing to act responsibly in the face of the corporate squabble to prevent interruption of operations.

The LTO chief now wants the contract between government and the technology provider thoroughly reviewed. She feels that the contract yielded too much control over LTO operations to Stradcom, setting fees for its services and collecting them directly.

In particular, Torres has complained about Stradcom’s desire to directly collect premiums for the mandatory insurance coverage motorists pay before registration of their vehicles. If this proposal pushes through, the technology provider will collect an additional layer of fees to be borne by vehicle owners.

 Torres attributes the intense boardroom battle within Stradcom to the sheer profitability of its contract with the LTO. The revenues flowing to the technology company could not be fully accounted by the government agency since Stradcom directly collects fees, including those from the private emission testing centers. Nevertheless, she supplies an estimate of Stradcom’s earnings through the life of the contract and puts it at just short of P12 billion.

The LTO chief also feels that the privileged role Stradcom enjoys over the operations of the public agency compromises the integrity and security of its processes. The LTO, as we know, has come under intense public scrutiny after the recent spate of violent carjacking incidents. Torres argues that, having yielded much of its operations to a private company, efforts to tighten up against the activities of criminal syndicates are hampered. 

The points being made by Torres deserves to be aired and merits intelligent public debate. The case of the LTO-Stradcom contract, after all, is a pioneering one. Over time, as we move inexorably towards e-governance, much more IT services will be undertaken for government by private providers. The governance issues need to be examined now.