DRUG TESTS AND RIGHTS

THE news story that police would now start conducting random drug
tests on clients of bars and similar establishments in Metro Manila
reminded me of a tale that someone told me last week.

Young men leaving the premises of clubs reported being collared by
police just outside the door, allegedly on suspicion of drug dealing.
When the club-goers protested that they had no drugs on them, the
cops would produce a sachet of shabu or a packet of "E" and, claiming
to have found the drugs on their persons, threaten to hale them to
jail. But if they paid out P200,000 or some such outrageous amount,
the young men would be set free, and everyone could walk away as if
nothing happened.

Why did the story sound so familiar? And why didn't it raise any
hackles? Because I'd heard it-or versions of it-many times before.
Because it had happened to young people I knew. When my son first
started driving, we warned him that when driving at night, especially
on a night out with friends, he should be extra careful because
police target groups of young men like him and his friends. Initially
stopped for an alleged traffic violation, they could be in for more
trouble if police sniff a more lucrative scam. Drugs could be planted
in their vehicle, and the puny "kotong" could escalate into a major
transaction.

The impunity of such rotten cops is fueled by the stigma attached to
drugs. None of the victims, or their parents, would raise a ruckus
over the arrest or threatened arrest. Even just getting connected to
drugs, though fraudulently, is cause for shame, and most would rather
just pay up on the basis of trumped-up charges than risk unwanted
publicity on the mere suspicion of being involved with drugs.

IF police were so bold in the days when drugs were not yet headline
news the way they are today, how much bolder do you think they would
be, now that PNP Chief Jesus Verzosa has ordered random drug tests on
those entering or leaving entertainment establishments? In fact,
Verzosa says he may even order police to enter these clubs or discos
and start testing the customers at random.

To his credit, Verzosa has at least expressed concern that his men
(and women) might be accused of violating the human rights of the
customers. Which is why, he added, police would be told to "get the
approval" of those they would be testing.

If police, especially drug operatives, behaved like Boy Scouts, I'm
sure there would be no problems with such a scenario. But c'mon,
would a club customer have the moxie to talk about human rights, or
refuse a drug test, in the midst of an operation where police are
waving guns in his face?

Now that President Macapagal-Arroyo no less has appointed herself the
"Drug Czar," everyone's falling over himself or herself trying to
prove a personal resolve to stamp out the drug menace. Officials are
widening the net, targeting clubs or other places where young people
hang out-schools, coffee shops, maybe even basketball courts and
malls. No one seems concerned that the innocent, as well as the
guilty, will get caught in this indiscriminate hunt.

THE ANTI-DRUG establishment has asserted that drugs have become the
country's No. 1 problem, one that fuels other problems like
criminality and corruption. That may well be the case, but should
ordinary citizens, especially the youth, in the name of eradicating
drugs, surrender as well their basic rights?

The law has been described as an umbrella that provides protection to
everyone, the innocent as well as the guilty. But if we give
permission to the State to take away that umbrella, or punch holes in
it, then even upright citizens will no longer have any protection
against an abusive State.

In the current furor over the so-called "Alabang Boys," we're
forgetting that what triggered the dispute between the PDEA and the
prosecutors were findings that the drug agents had violated not just
the rights of the suspects, but also their own rules and regulations.
Given the questionable means they employed in arresting the suspects
and gathering the evidence, a prosecutor said, it was doubtful
whether the case would ever stand up in court.

I can well understand the frustration and anger of PDEA agents who
find that, after risking their lives and spending hours or days on
surveillance, they find the people they've arrested walking off after
posting bail or, worse, having their cases dismissed. But the
solution to their frustration is not to turn a blind eye to
procedures, but rather for them to follow these procedures with more
rigor, to exercise discipline that they do not overstep regulations
or go for an overkill when chasing after suspects.

THIS, I'm sure, is an unpopular view. And in the wake of national
alarm over drugs, the more politically correct view would be to call
for harsher measures, more draconian policies, slash-and-burn operations.

What we forget is that we already have broad, indiscriminate nets
being cast in the name of eradicating the drug menace. Everyone
applying for a driver's license, for instance, has to undergo a drug
test. But in the years since these drug tests have been required, how
many drug users or pushers have been identified among the applicants?

Far more effective, to my mind, would be the equipment and procedures
to better implement "driving while under the influence" laws. The
laws are in place, but meaningless because police have no way to
scientifically determine the amount of alcohol or drugs in an
apprehended driver's bloodstream, and are not interested in spotting
those who need to go into rehab. They're mostly after drug pushers,
even if they have to plant the evidence to catch them.