Philippines journalist says reporters still 'an open target' as he awaits verdict for 2009 massacre
10 years ago, 58 people were killed in the Maguindanao massacre, including 32 journalists
A decade after he narrowly avoided the massacre that claimed the lives of his colleagues, Philippines journalist Nonoy Espina is awaiting a verdict in the case.
Ten years ago in the Philippines' Maguindanao province, a group of political activists and reporters on their way to register a candidate in gubernatorial elections were intercepted, dragged from their cars and murdered.
There were 58 bodies recovered, many of them badly mutilated. Thirty-two were journalists whose presence had been intended to deter violence.
In the days and weeks that followed, more than 100 suspects were arrested, including many members of a rival political family, the Ampatuans.
Nonoy Espina, president of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines, was supposed to be on the convoy that morning. Here is part of his conversation with As It Happens host Carol Off.
I know that you narrowly escaped being a victim in this massacre. What's it like for you to finally be anticipating a verdict?
It speaks a lot about our justice system and our system of governance that you have to wait a decade to get justice for something like this.
How difficult has it been actually to mount any kind of a prosecution against those believed responsible?
The defence depended so much on the wealth of the Ampatuans.
There were 197 accused originally. Each of them would file petitions for bail, and a motion here, a motion there, and the judge would have to hear everyone. And so that's why it took so long.
In fact, the lawyers were saying that the way the case was filed, it was designed to fail.
And, in this case, witnesses were murdered. They were threatened and there were lots of attempts to bribe them.
Marching to Mendiola for justice on the 10th anniversary of the November 23, 2009 Ampatuan Massacre. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/fightfor58?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#fightfor58</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/justicenow?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#justicenow</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/convictampatuan?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#convictampatuan</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/defendpressfreedom?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#defendpressfreedom</a> <a href="https://t.co/2fw8iPRROE">pic.twitter.com/2fw8iPRROE</a>
—@EspinaNonoy
You mention the Ampatuans. The senior members of this family ... wanted to hold onto power in this region where the massacre happened ... They had a private militia, and those are the people — and the family members, the seniors — are the ones accused of the murder.
Yes, that's right. This was a family that had practically absolute powers. Their private army was, in fact, larger and better armed than the regular army.
It's ironic because, you know, Maguindanao up to now remains one of the poorest provinces in the country. But the Ampatuans were among the wealthiest Filipinos at the time.
We know that there were 32 journalists who were killed that day, who were murdered. And you were supposed to join the convoy. What do you remember of that day in 2009?
Me and a friend were already in Maguindanao. We'd been covering the fighting between government and the secessionist tribalists. And knowing the reputation of the Ampatuans, we'd actually decided to cancel our flight and stay.
But I was coming down with the flu so we said we [would] just go to Manila and then fly back. A couple of days later, I was just firing up my PC, when I got a text on my phone saying, "Convoy missing."
It didn't occur to me that anything bad had happened because there are a lot of military checkpoints in that province on the highways. So when I got that the text, I thought they probably were held up at some checkpoint or other.
But a couple hours later then, I got another text that said, "Convoy found. Everyone dead."
I felt my legs literally turn to jelly.
Could you have ever imagined that there would be so many of your colleagues who would die just going to cover that story that day?
No. I don't think anyone, except probably the Ampatuans, expected a massacre to happen.
It broke a lot of taboos. Like, in the area, a lot of clan wars happen. But one of the inviolable rules is that women and children are spared the violence. In this case, no one was spared.
The horrific display of impunity that claimed 58 lives, including 32 Philippine media workers, on November 23, 2009 underscored the deadly mix of political abuse and government failures that remains a threat we face today.
—@nujp
Has anything really changed in 10 years, under the [President Rodrigo] Duterte government?
Unfortunately, no. In fact, you could say things have taken a turn for the worse.
When the massacre happened, we actually thought that the magnitude, the gravity of the crime, would somehow jolt government into acting. That didn't happen.
Before, we never, ever accused the government of any policy of deliberately targeting journalists. Now, under Duterte, state security officials have come out openly and called media enemy of the state.
A lot of us have been on the receiving end lately of open accusations by government officials and military officials of being suspected rebels and so on.
It's kind of scary because with charges like that hanging in the air, with no proof being presented, it kind of leaves you an open target. You never know where and when that attack is going to come from, if it comes.
Given all that, how hopeful are you that you'll see any kind of a guilty verdict for members of the Ampatuan family?
I'm pretty confident about the guilty verdict. There's no doubt in my mind that the principal suspects at least are going to be convicted.
I simply cannot imagine how, for example, the three Ampatuan brothers, are going to be acquitted.
But, if that happens, then I cannot imagine the consequence either.
Written by Chloe Shantz-Hilkes and John McGill. Interview produced by Chloe Shantz-Hilkes. Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.