How narco-politics emerged in 2001

How narco-politics emerged in 2001

How did it grow this bad, people invariably ask about the drug menace. Why are there hundreds of narco-politicos, -judges, and -cops as exposed by President Rody Duterte? What makes street pushers fight back in police raids, and shabu manufacturers persist despite the all-out war on drugs? When did the number of junkies swell to nearly four million, with 700,000 unprecedentedly surrendering in recent weeks? Where were the authorities all that time?

Some of the answers can be traced back to fifteen years ago. Narco-politics was emerging in the country then. Some national leaders, top cops, generals, journalists, and NGO workers already were noticing the trend. Pushers were being let off the hook, eventually to rise as drug distributors; politicos were joining the protection racket, employing chaos to cover their tracks; all the while the public was being distracted with political sideshows.

From my archives, I dug up this column of June 27, 2001: “Narco-politics is for real.” Oddly, the events being reported then seem to be the present. Here it is, in full.

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How narco-politics emerged in 2001

“Narcopolitics” has yet to enter The Oxford Dictionary of New Words. But it already has entered reality. Ever since earlier listed “narcoterrorists” in Central and South America began winning the fight against drug laws, US authorities coined “narcopolitics” to mean the ascendancy of cocaine barons in national politics. Once puny and gun-shy, Colombia’s Medellin cartel grew big and bold in the ‘80s to pay off not only the usual small-town judge or police chief but also senators, spouses and siblings. It graduated from assassinating prosecutors and journalists to associating with guerrillas and terrorists to prevent narcotics enforcement. Unfazed by a CIA-backed military offensive, the cartel expanded to transship or plant poppy and coca in neighbors Panama, Peru, Ecuador and Venezuela. At one time, it even had in the pocket a leading presidential contender and the brother of the sitting president.

President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo used “narcopolitics” in a recent speech. Declassifying a police-military intelligence report, she said the Chinese Triads have gone beyond bribing fiscals, judges and policemen and already recruited generals, justices, mayors and governors – perhaps even higher officials. She warned that Hong Kong’s 14-K Gang had so controlled large portions of Mindanao through kidnapping and robbery syndicates that it could also operate widespread election dagdag-bawas. If authorities sleep on the job, she rued, the country could wake up with a Triad-installed President in 2004.

GMA’s words were lost in the din of the election campaign. One opposition senatorial candidate sneered that she was just politicking. Yet, narcopolitics is real. And its claws and tentacles are growing.

An example of it is the rise of a one-time petty pusher to political organizer. Albert Sy Española (alias Noli, Bebot) started peddling shabu in the ‘80s. He has had a string of arrests, but always managed to bail out by bribing either the arresting officer or inquest fiscal. The ability to pay off law enforcers – sometimes with cars of unsuspecting friends, which he was also selling on the side – made Española bolder. He moved to the big-time, graduating from pusher to wholesale distributor. In 1992 then-PNP Eastern Police District Director Lucas Managuelod twice bagged him in buy-bust operations. On both occasions, Española managed to get remanded to the Mandaluyong town jail, where he had protectors in the right places. Cellphone in hand, he continued cutting deals behind bars – and slipping out at night to make deliveries and sleep in a condo nearby. Then-President Fidel Ramos was so rankled by news on Española’s escapades that he paid a surprise visit to the jail early one morning. The subject was there alright, sitting at the warden’s desk with burger and newspaper in hand, while all the cops were sleeping in their underwear. The presidential bawl out proved futile. Española soon got out on bail despite the volume of shabu found on him to warrant the non-bailable charge of narcotrafficking. He disappeared for a while but resurfaced at the NBI detention center after another buy-bust. He managed to post bail anew and went back to the underworld. The last time Española was in the news, he was riding high with the addict-son of a ranking politician. That son even mauled Española’s aging mother-in-law over shabu he had left in their house. Española didn’t mind, so long as he rose up the syndicate ranks to top-level distributor.

How narco-politics emerged in 2001

One would think that Española and his ilk would disappear from the scene of new politics, for which drug-free youths marched to EDSA last January. But no, that only happens in fairy tales. At the height of Puwersa ng Masa’s EDSA imitation from April 25-May 1, Española was spotted cheer-leading a segment of the crowd. An ex-classmate from his San Jose, Mindoro hometown said Española had managed to work his way into the staff of a senator, first as bodyguard, then as gun supplier, later as trouble-shooter and field organizer. As a politician’s personal aide at the EDSA gig, Española allegedly bused, fed, paid and otherwise entertained throngs of provincial recruits. He was also among the agitators of the attack on Malacañang at dawn of May 1.

One out of every three rioters arrested in the subsequent assault on the Presidential Palace was found positive for shabu. Nuns who cleaned up the EDSA Shrine that day also collected half a mini-truckload of empty gin bottles. A dangerous mix, shabu and liquor, according to drug-rehab medics. A potion for violence, like molotov cocktail, military officers discovered. One wonders if Española provided the stuff that emboldened the mob.

That’s for the police to investigate. But one thing sure, Española has gone places and found protectors high enough to stay out of jail while wholesaling narcotics. He in turn uses his dirty earnings to get patrons promoted or elected to higher positions. The ex-classmate says Española was never fond of books. He may not have read about it, but he apparently also has learned a trick from other narcoterrorists in Asia: using drugs to work up mobs into killing sprees, like in East and West Timor, the Jakarta riots, and the pre-teen Burmese “liberation guerrillas” who raided a hospital in Thailand.

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How narco-politics emerged in 2001

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