IF there is anything that triggers a spontaneous combustion of public outrage, it is the arrogance of officials in positions of authority who behave as if they were above the law in their encounters with private citizens.

This arrogance of power was amply demonstrated most recently in the Dec. 26 alleged manhandling of businessman Delfin de la Paz and his 14-year-old son, Bino, by two sons of Agrarian Reform Secretary Nasser Pangandaman and their armed bodyguards at the Valley Golf Club. Two weeks after the episode, the incident continues to inflame public opinion and refuses to be extinguished, because the Pangandamans have barricaded themselves inside their official positions, leaving the perception that they are untouchable and enjoy certain official entitlements not available to the civilian victims of their assault.

The public easily identified with the De la Paz family in this unequal encounter with officials and their brutish entourage. The public instinctively gave credence to the Internet reports on the mayhem, despite retaliatory criminal complaints filed against the members of the family. The complaints allege that the family provoked the argument that led to the violent reaction of the Pangandamans.

It was not hard for the public to take the side of the assaulted family and the blog accounts because they were not only more credible but also because the encounter was seen as a clash between abusive officials and powerless citizens, to which category most of us belong.

The media did not let the story die as a one-shot incident that the public would soon get tired of, like some corruption scandals that end up with few officials ever punished. The Valley Golf story took a life of its own and now appears to have generated an unstoppable momentum in attracting public interest. It has become some sort of a morality play. The media did not drop it like a hot potato because the story had all the ingredients of injustice as a fight between abusive authorities and plain citizens.

The injustice rankles deeply in the hearts and sense of outrage of citizens. If there is something that fuels more outrage among citizens against public authority, it is injustice, not corruption. A classic example of such episodes involving injustice and abuse of authority that exploded in the face of abusive governments was the assassination of former senator Benigno Aquino in 1983 by hired guns of the Marcos dictatorship. Of course, it would be disproportionate to compare the Valley Golf incident with the Aquino assassination, but it is not an exaggeration to say that Filipinos have a trigger-quick response to injustice and they take the side of the victim regardless of the tortured explanations of authorities.

The theme that defined the Valley Golf incident was the statement of Mayor Nasser Pangandaman Jr. of Masiu, Lanao del Sur, son of the agrarian reform secretary, uttered at the height of arguments with Delfin de la Paz. An eyewitness reported on the Internet that Nasser Jr. told De la Paz during a heated argument, “Don’t you know who I am?”

This remark was reproduced online in the blog of Ding Gangelona, from the official incident report submitted by the Valley Golf security agency on Dec. 27. According to the incident report, the guard on duty said he saw Delfin de la Paz “bloodied in the face,” and his 14-year-old son… “bloodied also on his left side ears.” The guard also saw “many personal bodyguards of Mayor Pangandaman wearing civilian clothes armed with high-powered guns.”

This report confirms the complaint filed by the De la Pazes with the Antipolo city prosecutor’s office against Nasser Jr., his brother Hussein, and three of their bodyguards. The complaint accused them of physical injuries, grave threats and child abuse.

In their countersuit, the Pangandaman brothers accused the De la Paz family also of physical injuries, grave threats and child abuse. They claimed the De la Pazes provoked the argument and that they merely acted in self-defense when Delfin de la Paz poked them with an umbrella. The Pangandamans’ complaint was backed by eyewitness accounts of caddies, but none of these affidavits claimed the Pangandaman brothers or their bodyguards had visible injuries.

The Pangandamans have never let people forget that they are stating their case under the protective umbrella of the government. We are reminded that, father and son—the Cabinet member and the mayor—are important functionaries of the regime, as well as political allies ruling Lanao with their family dynasty.

When the controversy exploded before the public, Secretary Pangandaman was conveniently in the Macaraeg-Macapagal House in Timoga, Lanao del Sur, where President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was to chair the first Cabinet meeting for 2009. Pangandaman caught the ear of the President first before those awful bloggers could spread their account of the incident through the Internet here and abroad. The message Pangandaman was sending with his presence at the Cabinet meeting was that he was untouchable.

Malacañang then echoed the message by saying it was still “early” to suspend the secretary over his role at Valley Golf Club, whether or not he condoned the assault, since the Department of Justice was still conducting an investigation. Public demands have mounted for his resignation or preventive suspension to avert attempts to influence the outcome of the justice department inquiry.

The fact that the President was unmoved by the violence where one of her men was involved speaks volumes of her insensitivity to abuse by officials. Her silence translates in contemporary terms to the old political dictum, “Might is right.”

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