Gruesome

Justice Secretary Leila de Lima, after observing the re-enactment of that incident at Atimonan, pronounced the event as anything but a “shootout.” She was at a loss for words to describe the evidently gruesome event.

I suggested last week what, with each passing day, appears most appropriate: massacre. Call it the Atimonan Massacre, Madame Secretary.

Or call it the Southern Tagalog massacres, to include the “shootout” that killed six “guns-for-hire” in Calamba last November. Among those taken down in Calamba was a young college student who merely hitched an ill-fated ride. The modus operandi in Calamba was an exact preview of what happened in Atimonan.

Do not forget to include the death of Fernando “Pandoy” Morales, days after the Atimonan massacre. Review the Pasig and Paranaque “shootouts” to establish a repeating pattern. Look out for other killings reported (probably falsely) as encounters between lawless elements and the police.

The canvass of brutality might be larger than the linked cases of “shootouts” we are looking at so far. The body count from what we might decide has been a continuing killing spree could be larger.

Like that gunman in Kawit who went on a shooting rampage, and in whose backyard more corpses are now being dug up, the killing spree that includes the Atimonan massacre could include other victims long buried. They do not rest in peace, awaiting justice.

If 6 men in Calamba, Laguna, 13 in Atimonan, Quezon and 1 in San Juan, Batangas could be terminated with such overwhelming force and with such impunity, explore possibility there might be other victims of this killing spree. That possibility nags as we observe the haughtiness and impertinence of the very police officers directly implicated in the killings.

Observe how the policemen, summoned to the NBI for an investigation into the Atimonan massacre, ran from the cameras vainly covering their faces. They do not seem like men who discharged their duties with honor and with responsibility. They do seem like men whose hands were caught in the jar of mass murder.

Sacked police director James Melad warned the media against making assessments of what happened since journalists were not on the scene when gory things happened. One, however, need not step on the blood of the victims to realize there is something awry in the police version of what happened. So far, only Abigail Valte arrived at the conclusion that the killing zone set up along that lonely stretch of Quezon road was a “legitimate” checkpoint. The Secretary of Justice disagrees.

The issue now is larger than that extremely vulnerable police version of what happened. The issue now is whether the investigation should zoom in only at the Atimonan incident or zoom out at a larger horizon, at a pattern of appalling bloodlust and police impunity.

Monopoly

When President Aquino signed the new excise tax schedule into law, he propounded on a truly novel theory. He said the new taxes will end the monopoly in the tobacco industry.

The Nobel Prize economics committee should pay attention. Everywhere else, monopolies are dealt with by anti-trust legislation. Here, for the first time, we are saying that excise taxes end monopolies. Economists take heed.

It is a puzzle, however, why the President addressed the monopoly in the tobacco industry and ignored the glaring monopoly in beer.

There are many players in the tobacco industry: Phillip Morris-Fortune, La Suerte Cigar and Cigarette Manufacturing Inc., Japan Tobacco International, Associated Anglo-American, Mighty Corp., and British-American Tobacco. The list does not include imported brands. Under the current tax system, 29 cigar and cigarette brands were introduced to the domestic market.

There are bigger industries with larger market shares and smaller ones with lesser market share. That is true of every business sector we have.

Compare the competition situation in the tobacco sector with that in the beer sector. In beer, there is not just a dominant player. There is just one player basically unless we count in the handful of boutique microbreweries.

Yet the President seems concerned about the “monopoly” in the tobacco industry while remaining silent on the absence of competition in the fermented liquor sector. There is something amiss here.

In Senate Bill 3299, an additional P39.5 billion in excise revenues on the first year of implementation was proposed. It projected cigarettes contributing P23.55 billion, distilled spirits P3.45 billion and beer P12.48 billion.

In the final version produced by the bicameral committee and signed into law, the projected additional excise revenue fell to only P33.96 billion. Cigarettes are projected to contribute P23.4 billion. The share of distilled spirits rose to P6.06 billion. The share of beer dropped to a dramatically low P4.56 billion.

Beer was the biggest winner in the bicameral version that is now law. Its share in additional excise tax revenues fell to only 13.4% — notwithstanding the sales volume of fermented liquor. By comparison, distilled spirits will contribute 17.8% while the share of tobacco spikes to 69% of the additional tax take.

We have not been given and explanation why tobacco is severely penalized and liquor less so. Is one less sinful than the other?

If we go by the President’s novel theory that higher excise taxes will break the “monopoly” in tobacco, does it mean that comparatively lower excise taxes on beer will maintain the true monopoly in that industry?

Perhaps the President will do us the favor of elaborating on the finer points of his new business theory.