Justice Remains Elusive for Journalists in the Philippines

On October 3, radio journalist Percival Mabasa, known publicly as Percy Lapid, was shot dead in a motorcycle ambush as he drove to his home in Las Piñas, a city in metro Manila. Now, one month later, the police insist they have “solved” the case – but we still don’t know why Lapid was killed or who ordered his death.

Lapid was a staunch critic of President Ferdinand Marcos and his predecessor, Rodrigo Duterte, frequently lambasting policies such as the “red-tagging” of political opponents. He gained a reputation as a straight shooter who criticized corrupt officials and human rights violations on his popular radio show and YouTube channel, Lapid Fire.

The Philippines was a dangerous country for journalists under Duterte – but also under previous leaders, from liberal Benigno Aquino III to Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to the current president’s father, the dictator Ferdinand Marcos. Lapid is the second journalist to be killed under the current Marcos administration, after broadcaster Rey Blanco was killed in Negros Oriental in September.

Lapid’s death received a vast – and unusual – amount of domestic and international attention. U.S. Senator Edward Markey condemned his killing, as did a handful of Western embassies, along with global human rights and press freedom organizations. It also shook journalists in the Philippines, especially those working in and around Manila, which had been presumed to be safer; most slain journalists had been working in the provinces.

The government has also felt more pressure to close Lapid’s case. For many murdered journalists and rights activists, their cases remain unsolved. But the Philippine National Police actively investigated Lapid’s killing, while the House of Representatives offered $85,000 as a bounty to find the murderer.

A suspect, Joel Escorial, turned himself in shortly after, saying he feared for his safety after his photo was released. Escorial said he and two accomplices had received orders from an individual who answered to a middleman incarcerated in New Bilibid Prison.

The next day, that “middleman,” Crisanto Palana Villamor, died in prison. His autopsy, which did not specify a cause of death, was criticized by leading forensic pathologist Raquel Fortun, who said it was not independently observed and was conducted after the body was already embalmed. The National Bureau of Investigation said Villamor died from a hemorrhage of the heart, while the Bureau of Corrections said it found no signs of physical injuries or foul play, “which probably indicates a natural cause of death.”

After Escorial’s confession, which implicated Villamor, was released to the public, government agencies pointed fingers at each other. Senate President Franklin Drilon said the Philippine National Police had to find more evidence, pointing out Villamor’s death was “suspicious and disturbing evidence of a wider crime.” The Philippine National Police, meanwhile, has questioned the urgency of the Bureau of Corrections in investigating Villamor’s death in prison.

Police have since named more than 100 persons of interest – but Police Brigadier General Kirby John Kraft, who is investigating the case, said in late October it was solved.

“Actually, we have already solved this because we have identified suspects, we have them in our custody, and we have filed the case,” he said in an interview with Super Radyo dzBB. “It’s just that we are still continuing the investigation.”

Lapid’s family, meanwhile, pushed for a second autopsy of the alleged middleman, and Fortun, the forensic pathologist, is expected to perform it.

However, after nearly one month of bounties, confessions, mysterious prison deaths, and inter-agency squabbles, Lapid’s family is no closer to knowing who ordered his death, and his fellow journalists have few reasons to feel any safer.

In the Philippines, there’s a Kafkaesque process of seeking justice in cases of murdered journalists, activists, or others whom the rich and powerful may very well have wanted dead. Authorities often seem most interested in publicly going through the motions before providing evidence that, actually, the case can’t be solved.

But Lapid’s case has yet to be closed, and the media spotlight has not yet dimmed. Solving his case would give Marcos a chance to show he intends to respect press freedom, at least on the surface. It’s more likely, however, that the protracted aftermath of Lapid’s death will simply serve as a warning for future masterminds to be more careful when they order their enemies to be killed.