CenterLaw: Philippine National Police’s worst nightmare

His clients are too terrified to prosecute policemen who shot their relatives in supposed
drug raids.

Lawyer Joel Butuyan outlined to the Supreme Court during the “Oplan Tokhang” hearing
on Nov. 21 why prosecution was impossible. But his solution could become the blueprint
for anti-Tokhang cases all over the country.

No evidence
Butuyan’s clients from the slums of San Andres Bukid, Manila, lack money to commute
to the courthouse, much less prosecute.

And they lack evidence. Eyewitnesses to Tokhang deaths —the victims — are
unavailable to testify.

Residents claim security cameras were shut off before several nighttime attacks. Police
formed a perimeter in eight raids, shooing bystanders away with flashlights.

Before drug surrenderer Jack Lord was shot, his brother saw police order nearby stores
to close shop.

When Ramon Rodriguez was shot, police guarding the door told relatives, “We were told
to watch.” They heard gunshots and shouts of “That’s wrong!”

Police also detained relatives who witnessed or inquired about a death.

Reynaldo “JR” Javier Jr. was killed just as his wife went into labor. She and JR’s mother
were detained, but she was allowed to leave to give birth the next day then returned to
the jail.

And evidence appeared planted. Required forensic investigation was never done.

Writ of amparo
Butuyan leads Centerlaw, a team of young human rights lawyers founded in 2003. They
solved the lack of evidence and unwillingness to prosecute by reframing the San Andres
Bukid cases into a petition for a writ of amparo.

The writ of amparo is a special protection order created in 2007. A judge can issue it
immediately because it orders protection, not to jail someone.

The strategy does not need the definitive evidence needed for a full trial. It can be
enough for a lawyer to document survivors’ fear for their lives.

It is a brilliant, simple solution, a template easily copied in other cities.

Centerlaw’s test case was that of vegetable vendor Efren Morillo. Five armed men shot
him and four garbage collectors as they played billiards near the Payatas dump in
Quezon City on Aug. 21, 2016.

Morillo played dead and rolled into a ravine behind the house. He was eventually taken
to the police station near Payatas.
He heard: “He’s tough. He was shot at 3 p.m. but he’s alive up to now.”

He was taken to East Avenue Medical Center at midnight.

One of the armed men later told reporters that he was Senior Insp. Emil Garcia and that
his team just killed drug suspects and known robbers.

Police charged Morillo with assault.

Centerlaw took the rare chance to pilot its amparo strategy with an eyewitness who
miraculously survived.

Gil Anthony Aquino and Cristina Antonio—admitted 2016 and 2015—transformed

Morillo’s story into a heart-wrenching petition to the Supreme Court. (Aquino was captain
of the UP Law team that won the Square Off TV debates in October 2014 and the Price
Media Law Moot Court international competition in March 2015.)

The facts were so compelling that the police did not even contest the case. In just a
week, the Supreme Court ordered them not to go within 1 kilometer of Morillo.

That was in January and it was a historic first win against Tokhang.

Expanded strategy
Centerlaw expanded its legal strategy by going to San Andres, which had 35 Tokhang
deaths in 12 months. Lacking a miracle eyewitness, the lawyers painstakingly compiled
affidavits from 39 residents and presented the killings as a systematic pattern.

Twenty-three of the 35 Tokhang deaths involved police. Twenty-four of the victims died
during a “kill time”—between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. Twenty-one died in their homes.
Several of them were drug surrenderers or their relatives.

Centerlaw’s next innovation was a class suit. It argued that the right to security is a
community right.

After Jerry Estreller Jr. and Randy Concordia were killed on Estrada Street, 19 relatives
and neighbors slept on tables in a nearby market for three months.

When it rained, they slept in parked jeepneys. The neighborhood needs protection, not
just the deceased, Butuyan argued.

He told the Supreme Court that police forced barangay captains to repudiate the suit and
confront the lawyers.

Will the court grant?

Butuyan’s key challenge is that the Supreme Court does not try facts. Morillo’s win was
an exception. The second case is more difficult.

But several justices appeared open. Justice Lucas Bersamin encouraged criminal
charges so a trial court could take permanent jurisdiction over the case.

Senior Associate Justice Antonio Carpio spoke about command responsibility and
crimes against humanity. Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno and Justice Marvic
Leonen suggested a privacy protection or habeas data order to remove Butuyan’s clients
from drug lists.

Unlike Morillo’s win, the Supreme Court might forward the San Andres Bukid cases to
Manila judges for review. But even this could inspire other young guns to replicate
Centerlaw’s blueprint in suits all over the country.

One hopes police act to distinguish professionals from rogues in their own ranks. It is
best for the country if they avoid their worst nightmare: a flood of human rights cases or,
as Carpio has warned, a case in the International Criminal Court.

React: oscarfranklin.tan@yahoo.com.ph, Twitter @oscarfbtan,

facebook.com/OscarFranklinTan.