Thank you.
Good morning. I'll cover these in the next few minutes: the weaponization of the law and how it works hand in hand with online state-sponsored attacks; enabling this environment where abuses of power and human rights violations are normalized, an example of which is something we call red-tagging or calling someone a terrorist; increased violence and impunity; and the killing of human rights workers and activists, the jailing of journalists and the killing of lawyers.
Let me start with the abuses I know first-hand. In less than two years, the Philippine government has filed 10 arrest warrants against me. I've had to post bail 10 times in order to be free and to do my work. I was arrested twice in a little more than a month. One arrest was timed to the closing of courts, with a warrant or information that left out the amount I needed to pay for bail, so the arresting agents brought me to the National Bureau of Investigation where they had dinner and delayed until night court closed, detained me overnight and took away my freedom unjustly. These seem small in the big picture, especially after what you just heard, but it's a reminder of the state's power that was meant to harass and intimidate me to prevent me and my company, Rappler, from doing our job of speaking truth to power. I like to say that they miscalculated.
The ludicrous charges against me fall into three broad buckets: cyber libel, tax evasion and securities fraud. In order to file five criminal charges of tax evasion against me and Rappler, the government had to reclassify our company as—and this is a direct quote—“a dealer in securities”. We're not a stock brokerage house. We don't trade and deal in securities. Securities fraud includes what I call the mother case: trumped up charges of foreign ownership.
Now I'll go on to cyber libel. On June 15 last year, I sat in this decrepit, windowless courtroom and listened to Judge Rainelda Estacio-Montesa deliver her verdict on a case that in the past would never have even made it to court. This decision will impact all Filipinos. The statute of limitations for libel was changed from one year to 12 years. I was convicted for a crime that didn't exist when we published a story nine years ago, for a story I didn't write, edit or supervise. Oh, and while my former colleague and I were found guilty, Rappler was innocent. Don't remind them of that. It's just Kafkaesque.
Of course, I'm challenging this verdict because I've done nothing wrong. I'm a journalist, not a criminal, yet I'm now fighting for the basic right to travel, and these ongoing cases can send me to jail for the rest of my life.
However, I'm lucky compared to others, like 35-year-old Ritchie Nepomuceno, who accused the police of torture, extortion and rape. She was one of at least three Filipino women who filed charges against 11 policemen she named who, these women said, held them inside a secret room at a police station. Less than two weeks ago, on April 19, Ritchie was walking down the street when she was shot and killed.
You heard from Cristina about human rights activist Zara Alvarez and another colleague. They were set to testify against the government and the military. She went as far as asking for court protection, which was, at first, denied and is still on appeal. Last August, she was just walking home after she bought her dinner when she was shot and killed. So was her colleague. No one is left to testify.
Now, let's go to the journalists. Frenchie Mae Cumpio celebrated her 22nd birthday in prison, arrested and jailed more than a year ago. This is a familiar tactic. The police get an arrest warrant. They do a raid, and then they charge the target with possession of illegal firearms and explosives. That's non-bailable.
It's not a coincidence that a lot of the victims are women. This February, I'll just remind you, Senator Leila de Lima, whom Amnesty International calls a prisoner of conscience, began her fifth year in prison. She calls it “lawfare” when law is used as a weapon to silence anyone questioning power.
Exactly a year ago, Filipino lawmakers, nudged by President Duterte, just shut down ABS-CBN, once our largest broadcasting network, our largest news group, taking away credible information sources. In the provinces, thousands lost their jobs. Around the same time that Hong Kong passed its draconian security law, the Philippines passed an anti-terror law that sparked 37 petitions at the Supreme Court to declare it unconstitutional. Under that law, anyone some cabinet secretaries dub a terrorist could be arrested without a warrant and jailed for up to 24 days. This makes red-tagging, or when a government calls a journalist a human rights activist or an opposition politician a terrorist, even more dangerous.
I, along with other journalists, have been red-tagged.
Here is a fact about the lawyers who defend us in court. More lawyers have died under the Duterte administration than in the 44 years before he took office.
There is a lot more—