The money trail

The raid on the house of Maasim Mayor Aniceto Lopez Jr. in Sarangani was yet another indication of how much narco politics has become entrenched in our society, according to Malacañang.

Lopez did not deny that the paraphernalia seized from his house belonged to him; he explained they were cooking utensils. They do look like laboratory items for cooking shabu.

Narco politics has permeated even the grassroots, at the barangay level. I think President Duterte got this right, although his controversial approach in dealing with the drug menace has generated problems of its own.

Neutralizing and arresting narco politicians must be accompanied by measures to prevent anyone from enjoying the profits of drug deals. People don’t enter the drug trade because of any inherently evil desire to fry consumers’ brains; drug dealers are in it for the money. Confronting the problem must include measures to deal with the financial aspect.

Narco politicians must be indicted not only on drug charges but also for tax evasion and money laundering, so that their assets can be seized and none of their relatives can profit from drug money.

I don’t subscribe to the idea of sparing the children when it comes to the fruits of corruption. Crooks in government precisely park their dirty money in the accounts of their kids and other relatives, believing that their kin will be spared from punishment.

Some crooks even say they are simply saving for their children’s future. I know a politician who built a reputation for integrity for several decades, only to accept money from a notorious crook in his last election campaign. The politician’s explanation, during a heated argument with a disappointed old friend, was that with his advanced age, he had to think of leaving something to his children. Obviously, he didn’t think the kids could live on integrity alone. Unfortunately for our nation, this attitude is not uncommon in our society.

Anyone who amasses dirty money should think of the dire consequences rather than the benefits for their children. If the kids are used for stashing away dirty money, they must be included in the punishment. Otherwise, corruption will pay and the problem will never be eradicated.

Besides pursuing crooks for tax evasion and money laundering, any war against narco politics would benefit immensely from a genuine and effective regulation of campaign financing.

Running for elective office has become so expensive that even politicians should welcome campaign finance reform. Corruption springs from our failure to regulate campaign finance. Campaign donors who bet on the right horse are rewarded with sweetheart deals, sinecures in state companies, and positions in government for themselves, their relatives or cronies even if lacking in qualifications.

Repaying election campaign debts contributes to mediocre government service and our failure to develop a merit-based culture.

Certain anti-crime watchdogs have noted that crimes against property or those involving fund-raising, such as kidnapping for ransom, usually spike during election periods. Politicians have been linked to armored van and bank robberies as well as kidnapping groups. Today they’re being implicated in drug trafficking.

Until Tokhang and Double Barrel were launched, drug dealing seemed less risky than hijacking armored vans or kidnapping wealthy victims for ransom. Also, instead of complaining like kidnap victims, end-users in the illegal drug trade help the dealers conceal their crime. The biggest come-on for the narcos is that drug trafficking is so much more profitable than kidnapping or carjacking or even jueteng, the other favorite business of Pinoy racketeers-cum-politicians.

President Duterte has openly accused his staunch critic, Sen. Leila de Lima, of raising funds for her election campaign through the drug barons of the National Penitentiary – a charge she has strongly denied.

* * * In previous elections, candidates and their handlers told me that at least P150 million was needed to run for the Senate. In local races in Metro Manila, even a candidate running virtually unopposed still shelled out at least P8 million.

For the presidential race, a common modest estimate of the expenditures (always whispered in confidence by the handlers) is a whopping P2 billion.

How do you raise that kind of money, and how do you keep track of the disbursements? You don’t. Or at least no one keeps a detailed accounting. Cash is packed in bags and sent to local political leaders for distribution down to the barangay level. Large amounts may also be deposited in personal bank accounts, which are black holes for anyone trying to verify candidates’ declarations on their campaign donations and expenditures.

Candidates remember who their supporters are, and in case of victory, political debts must be repaid.

The system is fed by public cynicism about politicians. There are people who think all the candidates are crooks or potential crooks anyway so they simply vote for whoever can offer the largest amount of cash. Our tribal nature also feeds the system; as long as a politician takes care of his tribe, he can do no wrong and he is assured of votes. In accepting money from politicians, a common attitude is don’t ask where it came from, and don’t tell.

And because there is no political will to pursue the money trail, our election campaigns have become the best Laundromat for dirty money. Jueteng lords, smugglers, kidnappers and bank robbers have used crime proceeds to win elective office; why not drug dealers?

Once in office, they can easily recoup their “investments” through corrupt deals, and a continuation of their main criminal activities.

Because lawmakers are among the biggest beneficiaries of unregulated campaign financing, however, every proposal for reforms has been shot down. Proposals for laws against racketeering have suffered the same fate.

So there are frustrated people who think President Duterte’s way is faster. Put the narco politicians on a list, and pick them off one by one.