A time of innocence

THE idea that everyone is “innocent until proven guilty” forms the core of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, but is much older than the declaration itself. It has served us well for more than six centuries. It’s a presumption that’s been invoked in defense of the marginalized, including Jews and witches. It has also served as one of the most powerful arguments against torture, wrote Kenneth Pennington of The Catholic University of America, Columbus School of Law (“Innocent Until Proven Guilty: The Origins of a Legal Maxim,” 2003).

Yesterday, citizens concerned about human rights marked the 68th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Human Rights. Among the principles they celebrated was the presumption of innocence, which granted all defendants “the absolute right to be summoned, to have their case heard in an open court, to have legal counsel, to have their sentence pronounced publicly, and to present evidence in their defense.”

Yet in the Philippines, the presumption of innocence has taken a beating these past five months. President Rodrigo Duterte’s war on illegal drugs has persuaded some 727,600 drug users, according to police estimates, to surrender and seek help. Most of them are lucky enough to stay alive. It is too late, however, for more than 2,000 persons killed in police operations and at least 3,500 others who fell in unsolved homicides. Last Wednesday, The New York Times ran photojournalist Daniel Berehulak’s story about how he documented 57 homicides during a 35-day visit to the Philippines. His perfect photos terrify. Nearly all of them show civilians gunned down in Metro Manila. One of the few photographs that did not center on a dead body showed two teenagers and a young girl huddled around three candles placed on a broken pavement in Pandacan. A few days earlier, 15 masked men had arrived, dragged their uncle Joselito Jumaquio down an alley, yelled out at