Secretive or scared?

After two weeks of following up the request, the Bulatlat journalists finally realized that the provincial government had no intention of giving them the data.

Remollino now thinks that the Laguna government just wanted to keep a safe distance from the province’s powerful elite who were behind the large number of conversions being allowed in the province. “The issue was a bit touchy,” he says. “You’d be stepping on the toes of landlords.”

But journalists suspect that the most common reason why government officials dig in their heels when asked for official documents is that they have something to hide, either because they are involved in the matter being investigated or believe they need to protect their bosses.

Reporter Allen Estabillo of MindaNews, for instance, recounts how he was grilled by employees at the city auditor’s office after he asked for a copy of a Commission on Audit (COA) report regarding the alleged overpriced purchase of a lot meant for Koronadal’s city hall complex.

The auditor’s office personnel eventually told Estabillo to write a formal request – and then added that they would need to forward the letter to COA regional office and that it may take more than the 15-day limit before he would get any response. Luckily, Estabillo passed by the office of a journalist-turned-city councilor on his way out of City Hall.

“She had a copy of the COA report,” says Estabillo, “so I got it anyway.”

Catchphrase: Security

Dealing with local governments, however, is nothing compared with trying to extricate official data from the military. Remollino says media colleagues commonly complain that military and police person like to invoke the word “security” as an all-season catchword to stymie inconvenient probes into their internal affairs.

“At the (defense department) alone,” he says, “I hear of many cases where requests (for information) remained pending for several years. With security agencies, it’s really harder to get information.”

What makes it doubly difficult is the culture in the military, which considers everything a secret unless a superior officer gives an explicit order for soldiers to talk. The military also lives by a rather rigid system in which higher-ups apportion everything, from fields of fire to jurisdictions.

And when the documents concern matters that hit very close to home, such as the SALNs of star-rank officers, journalists brace themselves for an often fruitless run through a virtual obstacle course. Says former defense reporter Raffy Jimenez, now an editor in GMANews.tv: “It’s hard to ask for copies of the generals’ SALNs. Even if I tell them [military] that the Palace and the Senate readily approve this kind of request, there is still no way I can get any SALN [from the DND].”

Indeed, the military made General Garcia’s SALN available to the public only because the Ombudsman finally issued a subpoena for the former deputy military comptroller’s SALN and service records. This was also nine months after Garcia’s wife and one of his sons were arrested by U.S. authorities smuggling $100,000 in cash to the United States.

U.S. Federal authorities had estimated that the Garcias may have brought in as much as $70 million since 1993. As deputy chief of staff for comptrollership, General Garcia was earning a lawful monthly income of only P36,015.

No full-throttle probe

But the military leadership did not launch a full-throttle investigation into Garcia’s finances. Instead, the general was transferred to J5, as deputy chief of staff for plans and programs. Reporters seeking to look into his net worth were given the runaround.

The Ombudsman eventually found that Garcia failed to declare P143 million worth of assets in his SALN. Garcia has since been charged with plunder for amassing P303 million in ill-gotten wealth, and was recently convicted by the Sandiganbayan for perjury involving his severely undervalued SALN. Even then, it was only Garcia’s SALN that was made available; those of the other generals remained under the radar, seemingly among the most tightly guarded state secrets.

Jimenez recalls that reporters were told that the SALNs of the generals were not for public consumption because of “security” concerns. It was not clear if the AFP was implying that the release of the SALNs is considered by the government as a national security concern, or an issue of personal security for the generals.

Still, defense officials may really have had reason to worry – the issue of generals with ostentatious lifestyles while the troops in the field subsisted on crackers and instant noodles was causing rumblings within the restive military.

The Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards, however, is specific in its requirement for officials to disclose information about assets, liabilities, net worth, and business interests, especially since the SALN is not a commonly considered reason to worry over national security, diplomacy, or financial instability.

Reporter Banned

In another case, Inquirer Mindanao correspondent Julie Alipala complains she was banned by military officials from entering military camps because of her persistent questions on the presence of US military personnel in Mindanao, and the status of the offensive against the Abu Sayyaf.

Alipala has requested information several times on the number of US personnel in Mindanao, and the status of their deployment. “So far, walang gustong magbigay ng linaw dito from the AFP [so far, no one from the AFP wants to talk about this],” Alipala said.

But the military took it a step further by banning her from camps after she started inquiring about the offensive against the Abu Sayyaf in Basilan after the deaths of more than a dozen Philippine Marines in 2007.

“I was demanding then from [Western Mindanao Command Chief Lt. Gen. Eugenio] Cedo to provide us figures as to how much the AFP spent for the offensive,” Alipala says. “Nauwi tuloy sa pag ban sa akin [In the end, I was banned from the area].”

Beg, borrow or steal?

The bad news is that the military’s refusal to share even non-secret information with the public has led to some journalists resorting to “borrowing” documents – a euphemism for stealing or pilfering documents. According to a veteran defense reporter, the “borrowed” papers are usually returned, after a quick, illicit engagement with the photocopy machine. It is a dangerous and illegal practice that undermines both press freedom and national security, yet it is a popular one that affords veteran reporters bragging rights if executed flawlessly.

Interestingly, the reporters’ resort to filching documents finds parallel practice by some men in uniform who also occasionally leak documents to the media to foist a spin or trial balloon or outright propaganda. But leaks would always tend to have pitfalls: the leaker usually has his or her own motives for releasing classified information, leave aside the institutional designs of the military or police to score occasional brownie points in the press.

According to the defense reporter, military leaks often take the form of operations or intelligence reports on, say, the communist New People’s Army (NPA), Muslim insurgents, or the Abu Sayyaf. These leaks already incorporate the latest spin that the military wants to peddle on an issue, especially when budget or policy deliberations are under way.

A carefully leaked document on the supposed growth or decline of the NPA, or the alleged presence of foreign members of the Jemaah Islamiyah in Mindanao are seen to be effective cues for the Armed Forces to be given bigger budgets or more benefits, or even breathing spell from scrutiny of its own failures.

Comparing the military’s attitude toward leaking confidential intelligence documents and its stance regarding documents on official or high-level corruption in the military, the reporter observes: “Mukhang mas maluwang pa sila sa mga operations and intel(ligence) reports kesa tungkol sa corruption nila (It seems they’re more lax with information about their operations and intel reports than with those about their corruption).”