June 26 is the United Nations’ (UN) Day in Support of Victims of Torture. Even as the Philippine government has been a signatory to the UN Convention Against Torture for more than 20 years, the practice of torture persists in the country. Just last month, Pastor Rodel Canja went through the horrors of torture.
BY RONALYN V. OLEA
HUMAN RIGHTS WATCH
Bulatlat
Volume VIII, No. 21, June 29-July 5, 2008
June 26 is the United Nations’ (UN) Day in Support of Victims of Torture. Even as the Philippine government has been a signatory to the UN Convention Against Torture for more than 20 years, the practice of torture persists in the country.
Torture under Martial law
Romeo Luneta or Ka Romy to his colleagues, now 65, could not exactly remember the day and time when he was, in his own words, “arrested-abducted” by military men in plainclothes. It was sometime in October 1972 somewhere in Batangas City.
No warrant of arrest was presented, no charges filed against him in court.
Three armed men approached him that day. One blindfolded him and the other two forced him to ride what he believed to be a military jeep. They asked, “Ikaw si Jose Luneta ‘di ba?” (You are Jose Luneta, right?) Jose is his younger brother.
He said that he was not Jose. One of his captors pointed a gun at his forehead and said, “Gusto mo nito?” (You want this?) The man threatened him that if he did not give the information they needed, he would be thrown off a cliff.
One of the men slammed the butt of a gun to his forehead, causing it to bleed. Throughout the two or three hours of travel, his captors kicked and punched him.
When the vehicle came to a halt, Ka Romy was led to a concrete room similar to a prison cell with no windows and just an iron gate. His captors left him for a while.
Just when he almost fell asleep, they returned and hit him with a “kaburata”, a hard elongated object shaped like an eggplant. They struck his stomach many times but the beating left no marks.
To stop the beatings, he said he is Jose Luneta. “Komunista ka. Founder ng KM. Bakit n’yo kinakalaban ang gobyerno?” (You are a Communist. A founder of Kabataang Makabayan. Why do you fight this government?)
The next day, his captors went back to him. “Hayop ka! Hindi naman pala ikaw si Jose Luneta,” (You animal. You are not Jose Luneta.) said one.
He told them he just said so because it was what they wanted him to say. “Pilosopo ka!” (Smart ass!)
Then, they began to ask the whereabouts of his siblings.
A few hours after came the water cure. They poured water into his face, almost relentlessly that he could not breathe. Then they took off all his clothes. Naked, he was tied to a “tarima,” a cot made of steel. His hands and feet spread apart.
Then, he was given the electro-shock. First, they put the wire on his wrist. Later, they electrocuted his genitals. The interrogation continued until he passed out.
When the worst was over, somebody treated his wounds and bruises. For quite some time, they left him alone. They would give him something to eat, congee or rice and vegetables.
It turned out to be the ‘soft approach.’ Ka Romy was offered to help his captors. He just said that he could not help them in any way. He told them, “Pagkatapos ng lahat ng dinanas ko, nasabi ko na siguro sa inyo kung may nalalaman ako.” (After everything I went through, I could have confessed to you everything that I know.)
Later, Ka Romy identified his captors as Rolando Abadilla, Rodolfo Aguinaldo and Billy Bibit. All three were considered by human rights groups as the most brutal torturers during martial law.
Ka Romy was transferred to Camp Vicente Lim. There he met many other political prisoners. He was released in 1975 but was ordered to report regularly to high-ranking military officers.
His siblings Maxima, Jose, Domingo, Francisco, Franco and Ernesto were also arrested in separate incidents. They, too, were subjected to physical and psychological torture.
Jose was injected with truth serum. Ernesto was thrown to a swimming pool with both hands and feet tied. Domingo’s head was sunk in a toilet bowl filled with human feces and urine.
The nightmare haunted Ka Romy for many years. There were nights when he would wake up screaming and squirming, sweating profusely. For three years, he had erectile dysfunction. He has difficulty hearing from his left ear. His eardrums were damaged when he was hit constantly at both ears.
Scars on his wrist are still clear, as lucid as his memory of those days and nights.
His two brothers, he said, have to drink alcohol to be able to sleep. Soon, they became alcoholic. They, too, could not forget.
A new case of torture
Rodel Canja is a pastor of the United Church of Christ in the Philippines (UCCP). On May 6, he went to their church in Pillilia, Rizal together with another church worker. They were there to meet the other delegates to the UCCP Northeast Southern Tagalog Conference.
Canja left his companion to go to a nearby store. He needed to buy some load for his cell phone; and he had to make a call. He had no idea he would then be taken by unidentified men.
A van stopped by in front of him. A man in his 40s alighted from the vehicle. The man put his hand around Canja’s shoulder and told the latter not to cause any commotion. He was ordered to ride the van. He saw another man inside, pointing a gun at him. He found himself obeying. Inside, he saw two more men, the driver and another armed man in the front seat. Then, his nose was covered with a handkerchief and he lost consciousness.
When he woke up, he found himself inside a room. One of his captors asked him, “Kilala mo ba si Guerrero?” (Do you know Guerrero?) He did not answer at once. He asked, “Sinong Guerrero?” (Guerrero who?)
The other man said, “Si Berlin Guerrero, iyong nagpapastor-pastoran?” (Berlin Guerrero, the one pretending to be a pastor.)
Guerrero was abducted in May, 2007 by men believed to be soldiers from the Philippine Air Force. He was subjected to physical and psychological torture before being turned over to the Philippine National Police. Only then did he learn that he has been arrested for murder charges, the warrant shown to him was dated 1988.
Canja told his captors what he knew about Guerrero. “He was my roommate. We worked together in the church. He has a wife and children.” By this time, one of the men was pulling his hair forcefully.
Exclaimed one, “Alam na namin iyan. Hindi iyan ang gusto naming marinig.” (We already know that. That is not what we want to hear.) The man interrogating him cocked his gun then asked Canja, “Ano pang alam mo?” (What else do you know?)
He was too afraid to speak. The man asked, “Anong alam mo sa P?” (What do you know about the P?) Canja asked back, “Anong P?” (What P?)
The man yelled invectives at him and pointed the gun to his face. “Alam namin na si Berlin ay miyembro ng P. Di ba may mga code names pa nga kayo. Alam namin ‘yon.” (We know that Berlin is a member of P. Isn’t it that you even have code names. We know that.)
Canja said he did not know anything about the P they were mentioning. His captors kept on pointing a gun at him. They also asked him about two more pastors.
The next day, they got his cell phone and wallet. The men told him that many things could happen in the coming days, adding that they have the ID of his sister and brother.
Then, one of the men, said, “Aamin ka ba o hindi? Ito na ang huling tanong namin sa ‘yo.” (Will you confess or not? This is our last question.) Canja did not speak; he knew he might be killed.
His interrogator inserted the barrel of a gun inside Canja’s mouth; the pastor was already crying and shivering from fear. The man was shouting, repeating his question. Canja said nothing; then, a gunshot. He thought he was shot at. The men laughed loudly. Then, everything became black.
The following day, he was told to change his pair of pants and to use the pair of shorts they gave him. One of the men warned him not to say anything to anyone. They threatened him that something bad may happen to his brother and sister; they got their ID pictures from his wallet.
Then, they blindfolded him and led him to a vehicle. While traveling, the men were talking. One said, “Patayin na lang kaya natin, ‘wag na nating ihatid.” (What if we just kill him?)
They finally stopped. They reminded him of their warnings. When he alighted from the van, he did not immediately recognize the place where they dropped him off, it was already dark. He asked a woman selling balut (duck eggs). The vendor pointed to both directions of the road saying that one direction led to Cogeo and the other to Cubao.
Pastor Canja arrived home that early morning, before the sun came out. Since then, he has never seen the following days the same as before.
No justice
Ka Romy was among the martial law victims who filed a class action suit against the Marcoses in 1989. He joined the Samahan ng Ex-Detainees Laban sa Detensyon at Para sa Amnestiya (SELDA). The case is now pending at the Sandiganbayan after the US Supreme Court turned over the case to the Philippines.
Ka Romy said, “Ang gusto namin, tunay na hustisya. Inaasahan namin noon na mapapakulong ang mga Marcos. Hindi namin inaasahan ang pera” (What we want is genuine justice. We wanted to see the Marcoses in jail. We were not expecting compensation.)
Asked to comment on the present state of human rights in the country, he said, “Maswerte pa kami noon. Pag tinortyur ka, mabubuhay ka pa. Sa Oplan Bantay Laya I and II ni GMA, papatayin ka na, susunugin ka pa.” (We were still lucky then. When you get tortured, you would still live. Under Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s counter insurgency programs Oplan Bantay Laya I and II, you will just be killed and burned.)
He was referring to the case of Manuel Meriño, abducted on June 26, 2006 in San Miguel, Bulacan together with Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan.
Ka Romy criticized Arroyo’s policy of “state terrorism.” He said that as head of state, she is guilty of gross violations of human rights perpetrated by state agents.
Asked to comment about Arroyo’s signing of Optional Protocol to the Convention Against Torture (OPCAT), Ka Romy said, “It’s just for show.” Bulatlat