Breaking down the culture of impunity

 

 

It all started with the Marcos dictatorship. In two decades of iron rule, Marcos perfected a system of oppression that knew no bounds, without fear of punishment for illegal wrongdoing for in his own mind his word is the law. Thousands had been killed, jailed and had disappeared. Torture and extrajudicial killings were widely practised with no one brought to the halls of justice for human rights violations.

 

The Marcos years spawned a culture of violence and impunity, and his successors would quietly condone the practice of extrajudicial executions and disappearances of those who voiced their protests against the government. Violence and impunity have become a way of life for the state, so pervasive they have been ingrained into our culture.

Remembering the victims of the Ampatuan massacre, 58 people, 
32 of them journalists, who were brutally murdered 5 years ago in
Maguindano province.

In June 2013, during the World Economic Forum East Asia in Myanmar, President Noynoy Aquino declared that the culture of impunity in the Philippines was over and invited investors to the country. Aquino said: “The culture of impunity is over. Much of what we have done is based on the belief that a sense of justice and the predictability of outcomes breed prosperity.” He added: “It is clear that good governance has created a climate of confidence in the Philippines. If there is no corruption, there will be no poverty.”

 

What was President Aquino thinking? Is he from another planet?

 

I had an almost similar serendipitous experience about two weeks ago in an Internet forum when I brought up the issue of culture of impunity as a stumbling block to a fair, accessible and efficient system of justice. A forum member asked if I was referring to the culture of impunity among lawyers in the bench and other high places. What?

 

It’s high time that President Aquino and like-minded people understand that a culture of impunity is neither caused by corruption or poverty, and that lawyers as a professional group are not responsible for fostering such culture. This a very serious matter and not something we could just quibble with.

 

Impunity simply means exemption from punishment, or the failure to bring perpetrators of human rights violations to justice. As such, impunity constitutes a denial of the right of victims to justice and redress.

 

The Set of Principles for the Protection and Promotion of Human Rights Through Action to Combat Impunity of the United Nations Commission on Human Rights defines impunity as “the impossibility of bringing the perpetrators of violations to account – whether in criminal, civil, administrative or disciplinary proceedings – since they are not subject to any inquiry that might lead to their being accused, arrested, tried and, if found guilty, sentenced to appropriate penalties, and to making reparations to their victims.”

 

Now that we have a clear idea of what impunity means, perhaps we can begin a thorough understanding of what we need to do to combat this pervasive culture of impunity in our country.

 

For journalists alone, the Philippine Centre of Media Freedom & Responsibility reported that an average of six per year is killed for their work. This number may be lower compared to the Gloria Arroyo regime but the number of slain journalists under the Aquino presidency has surpassed those of the administrations of Fidel Ramos and Joseph Estrada.

 

The Centre fears that this continuing violence against journalists will not abate before the end of Aquino’s term in 2016, which shows the failure of the Aquino administration in preventing attacks against the press.

 

The killing of journalists is linked to the larger culture of impunity when wrongdoing of all kinds goes unpunished. For the thousands who had been killed or disappeared during the oppressive Marcos dictatorship, and for the continuing extrajudicial executions and disappearances, not one has been made responsible under the law for either their murder or violations of human rights.

 

Those in authority like the President or his loyal military officers exploit the long arm of the law in persecuting dissenters or those in their judgment are planning to overthrow the government. And if no one is prosecuted for violating the people’s right to express themselves by making them disappear or silencing them permanently through extrajudicial execution, the system of justice breaks down and it spawns a culture of violence.

 

Take the case of former General Jovito Palparan, who is alleged to be the mastermind in extrajudicial abductions and killings of government critics during his military service. Palparan earned the nickname “Berdugo” (“the Butcher”) for his alleged involvement in numerous human rights violations, such as the murder of Edwin Marcellana and Eddie Gumanoy, and the disappearance of University of the Philippines’ student activists Sherlyn Cadapan and Karen Empeno.

 

In 2006, the Melo Commission headed by former Supreme Court Justice Jose Melo rendered a report which concluded that most of the killings of militant activists and journalists were instigated by the military, and recommended that General Palparan and other military officials be held liable. Yet then President Gloria Arroyo did nothing to prosecute Palparan but instead continued with greater impetus the execution of Oplan Bantay Laya, her government’s anti-insurgency operations.

 

Now that Palparan has been arrested after being on the lam for three years, it is highly doubtful if the government will be serious this time around. Palparan is charged with the kidnapping and serious illegal detention of UP students Sherlyn Cadapan and Karen Empeno.

 

According to Senator Antonio Trillanes, once a navy officer, General Palparan only followed orders during his time in the armed forces. In other words, he was just doing his job. But Trillanes has forgotten, or perhaps, he didn’t know, that the defence of following orders has already been debunked by the Nuremberg trial and succeeding cases. Besides, military generals are not strangers to the concept of command responsibility. Maybe, Trillanes was simply channeling himself, a convicted mutineer who staged a coup against his commander-in-chief, that he himself was not fully punished for the crime of rebellion and why should Palparan be made liable when he was simply doing a heroic job to fight communism in the country.

 

Chances are, the prosecution of Jovito Palparan will drag on until the press is no longer interested to report about him, exactly what’s happening to the Ampatuan massacre whose trial is yet to be set down. Five years ago, 58 people, 32 of them journalists, were brutally murdered in Maguindanao province, a most gruesome and brazen massacre in Philippine history. It was the worst attack on the press in history and the most violent single election-related incident in the Philippines.

 

The court proceedings have only dragged on under the watch of President Noynoy Aquino whose administration has shown little interest in pursuing justice for the victims of the massacre. Despite strong international outcry, many are being led to believe that the massacre would end up as another statistic in the long list of unsolved political killings in the Philippines. 

 

Just consider some of the grim realities surrounding the trial: four witnesses have been killed so far, obviously to prevent them from testifying; authorities have failed to arrest 98 suspects who remain at-large; 41 accused policemen have been granted bail because the evidence is found not strong; the head of Army’s 601st Brigade who turned down the victims’ request for security escort has been promoted despite the massacre; allegations that the prosecution team has accepted bribes; and the continuing threats on the victims’ relatives and pressures that they settle amicably with the Ampatuans.

 

President Aquino was criticized before for dismissing media killings as not always work-related. According to the International Federation of Journalists (IFJ), a total of 33 journalists have been killed in the line of duty since Aquino took office in 2010 and the President is still bedazzled why. Perhaps this could also explain why he doesn’t understand what a culture of impunity is.

 

On her part, Supreme Court Chief Justice Lourdes Sereno highlights the problem as one of procedural weakness in the justice system, where the courts lack the capability to execute their own writs and processes. In one of her rare public speeches, the Chief Justice admitted that the courts have no means to serve arrest warrants and have little resources to ensure the protection of their servers from the very real threat of retaliation.

 

The culture of impunity is a real enemy, and the indifference of President Aquino has only emboldened those in power to entertain no trepidation in eliminating their most vocal critics and opponents, not excluding those in the media. Offering a lame excuse like the Chief Justice’s most important dilemma in enforcing the law will not solve the injustice in our system. It’s a frame of mind, a way of thinking that has been implanted in our psyche by the long years of dictatorship under Ferdinand Marcos. T

An art exhibit marks the 5th anniversary of the Ampatuan massacre.

The Philippines has an enviable record when it comes to signing up-to-date human rights treaties and ratifying international conventions and agreements, but without a determined and robust prosecution of violators and torturers, all these human rights commitments become empty promises.

 

What must be done?

 

For starters, set down the Ampatuan case to trial, without any more delays, or ifs and buts. The President needs to set aside his ego-bruising experience when the Supreme Court overturned the Disbursement Acceleration Fund. He should extend his hand to the Chief Justice in working together to ensure and secure justice to the victims of the Ampatuan massacre.

 

Next, release all political prisoners and put an end to the state position of repetitive denials that the Philippines does not have political prisoners. In dismissing the existence of political prisoners, the Aquino administration is only replicating the same pronouncements of the Marcos dictatorship which started the practice of rounding up and detaining government protesters.

 

As of November 2014, there are 491 political prisoners in the Philippines, 220 of them were arrested during the current regime. There are 43 female political prisoners, 53 are ailing, 42 are elderly, and six are minors.

 

By releasing all political prisoners, the government will acknowledge that they are not the enemy of the people but the plunderers and those who perpetuate violations of human rights. These are the true enemies of the people who should be jailed.

 

Lastly, establish a genuine Truth and Reconciliation Commission that will be tasked with the final investigation of all past political crimes committed by the state, including illegal imprisonment of those who criticize the government, extrajudicial executions and disappearances. The late President Corazon Aquino decided not to establish such commission after Ferdinand Marcos was deposed apparently because of pressure from the military which was responsible for most of the atrocities and violence committed by the Marcos regime. Most countries who wanted to break from the past like South Africa, Chile, Argentina and others have gone this route and benefitted immensely from the findings and recommendations of such commissions.

 

But we are not talking of a fact-finding body such as the Philippines Truth Commission that was established by Noynoy Aquino upon his ascendancy to the presidency in 2010. Such commission was invalidated by the Supreme Court for violating the equal protection clause for singling out the Arroyo administration. That commission was tagged by the court as vindictive and focused on selective retribution. 

 

Picking up on the Chief Justice’s suggestion of promoting a counter-culture, which she did not define, to the culture of impunity, the words of the Nobel laureate, Elie Wiesel, seem apt for us to take to heart: “There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”

Whitewashing the truth

Plato said that “those who tell the stories also hold the power,” something that historical revisionists understand fully well. This is particularly true to those who would like to portray an illusion of a great presidency as in the case of Ferdinand Marcos and his almost twenty years of authoritarian rule. His immediate survivors who are now entrusted to keep the Marcos legacy alive like his wife Imelda and children Imee and Ferdinand Jr. are all in cahoots with historical revisionists who saw nothing despicably wrong with the iron-clad rule of Ferdinand Sr. from 1969 to 1986.

The same can be said for those who, on one hand, continue to glorify the outcome and moral impact of EDSA I on government and its leaders, and on the other, those who would like to demonize the military and the Church in installing Cory Aquino to an accidental position of president of the Republic after Marcos was driven out. Videos lampooning EDSA I and discrediting its achievements are circulating on YouTube and the Internet. But at the same time, the moderate media or so-called “yellow media” have become the anointed protectors of the legacy of EDSA I and they would not hesitate to inspire or instigate another public uproar should it be necessary to preserve that legacy or support a popular government even if it ignores the rule of law.

Both are clear examples of historical revisionism that attempt to erase the culpability of the martial law years under Marcos and the succeeding presidencies starting from Cory Aquino to her son Noynoy Aquino for government complicity in violating human rights and for instilling a culture of impunity.

Filipinos protest against military abuses of human rights, extrajudicial killings and
 disappearances. Photo by Magic Liwanag. Click link to view "Ending the culture of
impunity in the Philippines," http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c24VJubiVv4

Martial law spawned corrupt system

G. Eugene Martin, U.S. Institute of Peace Executive Director of the Philippine Facilitation Project, in his testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Subcommittee on East Asian and Pacific Affairs in 2007, pointed to the legacy of the Ferdinand Marcos regime as one palpable cause for the extrajudicial killings and forced disappearances of civil society activists. According to Martin, martial law created a corrupt system where soldiers, police, judges and prosecutors became principals of offences like extralegal arrest, detention, incarceration, disappearances and salvaging, are all permitted or allowed.

This is very evident in the military’s reliance on Proclamation No. 2054 of President Marcos despite the lifting of martial law on January 27, 1981 and the succession of democratically elected presidents after EDSA I which were supposed to obliterate the repressive laws of the martial law period. It is the same objective under that Proclamation “to prevent or suppress lawless violence, insurrection, rebellion and subversion” that prompts the military to continue launching pre-emptive strikes against alleged communists and their sympathizers, and terroristic enemies of the state. All this violence against the people is therefore considered justified, as the Marcos regime used it as a rationale for its repressive measures, under the aegis of preserving the Constitution as the supreme law of the land at all times.

So when Cory Aquino assumed the presidency in 1986, her pardon of the top military brass and its officers for complicity in the commission of crimes and offences against the people during the Marcos era prevented any criminal prosecution and those responsible were never brought to justice. This coddling of the military and the police by succeeding presidents did not only provide immunity for violators but also made military and police abuses of human rights the norm, instead of protecting civil society.

Thus, to the military and the police who are entrusted to protect the rights of civil society, extrajudicial killings and disappearances are justified and necessary to protect the state and preserve peace and order. That human rights might by necessity although unintentionally be trampled upon. This is the official line and is therefore what is reported in the media, the story that is being taught to our present generation of young people in schools. It all started with the Marcos era and the spate of violence and killings continues to be condoned as legitimate under the present government of Noynoy Aquino.

Extra-judicial killings and disappearances

Thus, proponents of historical revisionism have succeeded in demonizing the civil society instead of protecting it. The 2007 report by Philip Alston, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on human rights, on extrajudicial killings and disappearances is a case in point.

Alston in his report identified two root causes of these killings: (1) vilification, labelling or guilt by association, i.e., the characterization of most groups on the left of the political spectrum as front organizations for armed groups whose aim is to destroy democracy making them as legitimate targets for military/police action, and (2) the government’s counter-insurgency strategy which has facilitated the killings of activists and others who oppose the government.

Alston’s report could very well be the official and most accurate narrative, an objective historical account of the underlying causes of violence perpetrated against the people by the military, the police and other agents of the government. However, the Philippine government denies this. There are no crimes of extrajudicial killings and disappearances, and that is the official line of the government. The government, therefore, has rewritten the history of violence against the people by continuously and flatly denying that crimes were committed despite independent third party findings of facts.

In 2006, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo created the Melo Commission to investigate the killings of militant activists and some members of the press. While concluding that most of the killings were instigated by the Armed Forces of the Philippines, the Melo Commission however found no proof to blame the government and the military. Instead, the Commission reiterated the dubious statements made by Task Force Usig of the Philippine National Police that the rise in the killings of activists and media personnel was due to the “purge” of the ranks of the Communist Party of the Philippines and the New People’s Army (CPP-NPA). Here we can see a clear effort by the government to whitewash the crimes committed by its military and to pin the responsibility for the killings of innocent civil society activists to the communist insurgency.

The Melo Commission Report and the statements made by Task Force Usig, including their suspicious statistics on atrocities committed by the military and by alleged underground groups, form part of the official history of political violence in the Philippines. Third party and independent investigations such as the Alston Report and the testimonies of experts on extrajudicial killings and disappearances from international human rights organizations like Human Rights Watch, Freedom House, Amnesty International, the Committee to Protect Journalists and Reporters Without Borders, are considered by the government as mere observations not grounded on facts.

The U.S. State Department Report has also highlighted the fact that Philippine security forces have been responsible for serious human rights abuses, a report that is glossed over by the government. Even an observation from a friendly country and former colonial master failed to muster any clout, thus reducing it to an insignificant footnote to the official historical narrative of the government.

Deception and denial

Historical revisionists thus effectively use their twin techniques of deception and denial. Deception, by falsifying information, lying and obscuring the truth in order to manipulate information or opinion. Denial, by claiming facts are untrue, blame shifting, censorship, distraction and media manipulation. These are all self-evident in the government’s historical record of political violence against the people as contained in the Melo Commission Report and in all proclamations of the previous and present governments with regard to Oplan Bantay Laya and Oplan Bayanihan, both counter-insurgency programs of the government.

Holocaust memorial in San Francisco. Photo courtesy of Dubgael. Click link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIJYl7U4ksY to view "What is a crime
 against humanity?"

During the Nuremberg trials of the war crimes committed by Nazi regime, the prosecutors were faced with the problem of how to respond to the Holocaust and other grave crimes. At that time, a traditional understanding of war crimes did not include crimes committed by a power on its own citizens. So, a new charter was drafted not only to cover traditional war crimes and crimes against peace, but also crimes against humanity.

The Tokyo trials that followed Nuremberg also tried the leaders of the Japanese empire with these crimes against humanity, together with crimes against peace and war crimes. With the establishment of the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2002, the Rome Statute has significantly broadened the definition of crimes against humanity from its original legal definition.

According to the Rome Statute, crimes against humanity are particularly odious offences that constitute a serious attack on human dignity or grave humiliation or a degradation of one or more human beings. They are not isolated or sporadic events, but are part either of a government policy or a wide practice of atrocities tolerated or condoned by a government or a de facto authority.

One would therefore suspect that the Arroyo and Aquino governments are rewriting the history of political violence in the Philippines in order to avoid being brought before the ICC and be tried for crimes against humanity. Perhaps, the consolation to President Noynoy Aquino is that he still has the opportunity not to repeat the mistakes of his predecessors. However, if the signs are clear that Noynoy Aquino might have already chosen to continue painting a rosy picture of the history of violence against the people, thus denying and deceiving the truth, genuine history will not be so kind in remembering the grave political consequences of the illusions his government has attempted to nourish.

A questionable badge of honour

History is replete with men who have fought in wars or served in military uniform and later became their nation’s leaders. Names like Charles de Gaulle, Dwight Eisenhower or John Kennedy were just a few whose war-time exploits enhanced their electability. Even Ferdinand Marcos used his heroic deeds during the Filipino resistance against the Japanese, whether true or embellished, to build up his qualities to become president.

At the first EDSA People Power Revolution that toppled the Marcos dictatorship, soldiers in uniform were held in respect for not shooting their rifles at the throng of peaceful demonstrators. They became instant heroes to the people, and the revolution succeeded without blood spilt on the street. Later, however, the respect for the uniform would eventually lose its lustre as the military became implicated in allegations of abuses against human rights, disappearances and extra-judicial executions.

The response by the New York police and firemen during the September 11 terrorist attack on the Twin Towers similarly elevated them in America’s pedestal of heroes. Every policeman and fireman in New York would from then on be regarded by the city’s denizens with certain deference.

The young men and women who would later continue the war against terrorism in the battlefields of Afghanistan and Iraq would also garner the esteem and honour the American people would bestow on the military. In its brushes with history and involvement in foreign wars, the military uniform has become a strong and sacred symbol for Americans.

United States' marines at Khakresh, Afghanistan. Photo courtesy of Darrin Roark.
Click link  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkNtOoENmik&feature=related
to view "Marines in Action in Afghanistan."

The same goes for Canada. Ontario’s Ministry of Transportation has designated the stretch of Highway 401 (MacDonald-Cartier Freeway) between Glen Miller Road in Trenton, Ontario, and the intersection of the Don Valley Parkway and Highway 404 in Toronto as the Highway of Heroes in honour of Canada’s fallen soldiers who died in service in Afghanistan. This length of the highway is often travelled by a convoy of vehicles carrying a fallen soldier's body, with his or her family, from CFB Trenton to the coroner's office at the Centre for Forensic Sciences in Toronto. Since 2002, when the first of Canada's fallen soldiers were returned from Afghanistan, crowds have lined the overpasses to pay their respects as convoys pass.

For the United States and Canada, soldiers in the warfront are warriors fighting the enemies of democracy and freedom, in order that every American and Canadian would be able to live freely and without fear. Even if the wars they’re fighting are often wrong, they owe these men and women in uniform their utmost respect and gratitude.

Despite abuses at Abu Ghraib, the premeditated rape of a 14-year old girl in Mahmudya, Iraq, or the executions of Afghan civilians by the self-described “kill team” from the Stryker Brigade, the United States military remains unsullied. Allegations of serious abuses of prisoners’ rights during interrogations at Guantanamo have not led to the shutdown of the detention centre.

When a member of the Canadian forces assigned in Afghanistan is killed whether in action or by friendly fire, he or she is regarded as a hero. Circumstances of death are not that important; the fact that a soldier died with his or her boots on, is a celebration of heroism.

Why do we regard the military today with so much reverence?

William Deresiewicz, an essayist and critic, wrote in the New York Times that “saluting heroes is easy and absolves us from actual engagement.”

Deresiewicz wrote: “The new cult of the uniform began with a call to ‘support our troops’ during the Iraq War. The slogan played on a justified collective desire to avoid repeating the mistake of the Vietnam era, when hatred of the conflict spilled over into hostility toward the people who were fighting it.”

I doubt if we have the same collective response of adulation as a nation to our own Filipino troops, except for that single moment when the army disobeyed their Commander-in-Chief Ferdinand Marcos and refused to shoot at the peaceful demonstrators in EDSA. But this kind of courage by the army would never be repeated again. Instead, the troops would later on follow blindly the command of their disillusioned ranking officers in failed mutinies after another.

Personally, I have always had this antipathy to those in uniform, whether a cop or a soldier. When an uncle came home after fighting in Korea, he told us of the brutality of hostilities, some to the extent of hand-to-hand combat in the cold Korean front. How he survived the madness of the Korean War remained an enigma to him even after he left the service.

Early on during the anti-Vietnam War protests of the 1960’s, I began hating our soldiers who signed up for the Philcag expedition, whether they volunteered or were forced by their commanding officers to enlist to fight the communist forces in Vietnam. Later I would channel my anger toward men in uniform to riot police squads who broke up peaceful demonstrations against the government, even though I realized these cops were just being used as unwitting tools by their commanding officers. It was no wonder I would deliberately avoid joining military drills in my ROTC training days and instead volunteered to be responsible in the lowly task of arranging refreshments for the cadets during break time. If there was a military draft during my youth, I would certainly have dodged it.

My deep-seethed resentment of the military establishment and what it represented became more pronounced during the martial law period. Ferdinand Marcos used the army as his personal phalanx of gladiators to break the opposition and popular dissent. He placed generals in the civic service blurring the distinction between the government and the army. The practice of recycling retired generals by appointing them to government posts continued on even after Marcos had already been displaced. I once worked with a corporation run by a retired colonel and our relationship with each other had never been warm and friendly.

Militarization of the bureaucracy, when unchecked, could be a nightmare that exacts a heavy toll on people’s political and civil rights. Totalitarian governments have relied on the use of the military to silence opposition and dissent. Dictators are indifferent to democratic rights, and they use the military to sustain their regimes. Just look at the Philippines during the Marcos regime, or present-day Egypt and Tunisia, and Libya or Syria before the Arab Spring.

Click link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OwscoQSrx8&feature=related
to view video: "Palparan accuses Melissa Roxas and Staur Ocampo."

Since Ferdinand Marcos entrenched the role of the military in government during the martial law years, generals and other high-ranking officers of the military establishment have since enjoyed the awe and fearful respect of their Commander-in Chief and his or her cabinet. The military needed to be pleased and rewarded for their efforts in fighting the local insurgency despite their abuse of basic human rights. No wonder the Philippine Human Rights Commission cleared General Jovito Palparan Jr., also known as “the Butcher,” of charges that he was responsible for a number of disappearances and extra-judicial killings of government critics during the Arroyo administration. Families of student activists, workers and journalists who have either disappeared or killed continue to pressure the government to investigate and prosecute the military for their complicity but to no avail.

How then can one show respect for this kind of military?

These are people in uniform whom we pay their salaries for their services and we expect them to be accountable to the people for any abuses they commit. But who is above the military nowadays? Marcos has placed them in an unimpeachable position almost beyond the reach of the law and every president elected to run the government must ensure the military is behind his or her administration if it cares to survive.

Has there been a general or high-ranking officer of the military prosecuted for abuses? Nada. Some of them are now in Congress like retired General Palparan who represents the dubious Bantay party-list, a political party supposed to speak for thousands of Filipinos employed as security guards.

Panfilo "Ping" Lacson is also back in his Senate post after running as a fugitive from the law when implicated in the murder of a Filipino publicist. Lacson was former Director-General of the Philippine National Police and was also linked to the killing of 11 members of Kuratong Baleleng in Quezon City. Kuratong Baleleng is an organized crime syndicate in the Philippines that once was an anti-communist vigilante group.

At the local levels of government, the military is further deeply entrenched that provincial governors and municipal mayors are beholden to them. There is a shadow government behind the civilian political structure and the military seems obviously in control. Who would need a coup d’état when the government already appears under de facto control of the military?

Filipinos have never spoken so highly of those who serve in the military, unlike here in America where we consider the men and women fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan as heroes. We never question whether their mission is a just one, even if the wars they are fighting are not the right wars.

Libingan ng mga Bayani. Photo courtesy of ronaldibay. Click link below
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXq3fHWLlSw to view "Martial Law
victims: ex-President Marcos is no place to be among heroes."

In a similar vein, we abhor the mere notion that Ferdinand Marcos deserves to be buried in Libingan ng mga Bayani (Cemetery for Heroes) for his “heroic” exploits as a soldier during the Second World War, for two reasons: one, his military record is dubious, and two, his record as president of the Republic is a disgrace to everything that a hero stands for.