Every year on 30th of August, the world marks the International Day of the Victims of Enforced Disappearances. For many, it may seem like another international observance—just one more day that passes largely unnoticed. But in the Philippines, this day is a piercing reminder of our country’s long and continuing history of state-perpetrated abductions, silencing, and erasure. It is also a day of courage and defiance—for the families of the disappeared and the people’s movement who continue to fight for justice even as the state attempts to bury truth and memory.
Disappearances as a Weapon of Repression
From the Marcos Sr. dictatorship to the present administration, enforced disappearances have been wielded as a weapon of repression. They are not accidents or isolated crimes. They are calculated tactics designed to crush dissent, sow fear, and dismantle communities fighting for land, rights, and justice.
Historic Cases that Define an Era
One name forever tied to this dark history is Jonas Burgos, taken in broad daylight from a Quezon
City mall on 28 April 2007. The weight of evidence over the years has pointed to military involvement, and courts have acknowledged fragments of that truth—yet Jonas remains missing, and no one has been held fully accountable. His mother, Edita Burgos, transformed personal grief into relentless search for truth, enduring the slow grind of justice system built to delay.
So too with Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan, University of the Philippines students abducted in 2006 during the Arroyo regime’s counterinsurgency campaigns. Witnesses testified they were held in military safehouses and subjected to grave abuses. It took years before retired Maj. Gen. Jovito Palparan was convicted of kidnapping and serious illegal detention—yet Karen and Sherlyn were never surfaced. Their mothers, Concepcion Empeño and Erlinda Cadapan, became symbols of resistance, refusing to let their daughters’ names be erased from history.
In the Cordillera, the disappearance of indigenous organizer James Balao on 17 September 2008 remains a sharp example of how state counterinsurgency doctrine targets community leaders. Witnesses reported seeing armed men take him, and his family’s search illustrates how abduction has been institutionalized as a tool of control.
New Disappearances, Old Patterns
This pattern has never stopped. According to Karapatan, there have been 18 victims of enforced disappearance under the Marcos Jr. administration. This number is only halfway into Marcos Jr.’s term compared to 20 under the administration of former president Rodrigo Duterte—a damning sign that impunity not only persists but thrives.
The Philippine even passed the Anti-Enforced or Involuntary Disappearance Act of 2012, the first law of its kind in Asia. But CSOs have long criticized the state for its failure to properly implement the law and the continuing lack of accountability for perpetrators. Instead of deterrence, the law has been reduced to empty text, unable to prevent new cases or surface the disappeared.
Among those taken are indigenous rights defenders Dexter Capuyan and Gene Roz Jamil “Bazoo” de Jesus, abducted on 28 April 2023. After years of struggle, the appellate court finally recognized them as victims of enforced disappearance—a landmark legal acknowledgement that nevertheless failed to deliver truth, surfacing, or accountability. Their case shows the bitter truth: recognition is crucial, but recognition without surfacing or prosecution is empty justice.
In August 2024, two activists from Albay—James Jazmines (23 August) and Felix Salaveria Jr. (28 August)—were abducted in operations witnesses described as “professional.” CCTV footage and community testimonies have formed the basis of petitions and protective writs filed by families. Yet they have been forced to endure endless petitions, technicalities, and delays instead of swift investigation and prosecution.
Abductions in Plain Sight
Some abductions have unfolded in full daylight and in plain view of the public. On 10 January 2023, development worker Dyan Gumanao and labor activist Armand Dayoha were seized at the Cebu City Port—their abduction captured on video and widely circulated online. They resurfaced alive after days in captivity, and their testimonies exposed the brazen audacity of kidnappers who operate without fear of accountability. Instead of swift and transparent investigations, authorities peddled the insulting narrative that the couple had “eloped,” shamelessly gaslighting both victims and the public.
In September 2023, environmental defenders Jonila Castro and Jhed Tamano were abducted while working with coastal communities opposing destructive reclamation. They were later paraded at a government-organized press conference where, to the shock of many officials, they spoke the truth: they had been abducted by men in military custody, not “surrendered.” Their courageous refusal to read a scripted “surrender” statement punctured the state’s narrative and put a glaring spotlight on how the military and government agencies attempt to manufacture consent and coerce confessions.
Impunity as Policy
The government likes to assure the public that the justice system is “moving.” Indeed, there is movement: writs filed, hearings set, statements issued. But movement is not the same as justice.
Where are Dexter and Bazoo? Why is Jonas still missing after nearly two decades? Why must the families of Jazmines and Salaveria seek court protection just to stay safe at home? Why did authorities fabricate an elopement story in Dyan and Armand’s case despite video evidence proving otherwise?
This is not incapacity—it is entrenched impunity. Enforced disappearances in the Philippines are not a series of unfortunate events. It is a policy choice enabled by red-tagging, militarized counterinsurgency, and political climate that normalizes the criminalization of civic work. These are not merely legal or administrative failures; they are political decisions that allow people to be taken away without accountability. Each unresolved case is both a personal tragedy and a blueprint for how repression is made routine.
Defiance and Collective Memory
Still, we fight. Every name of the disappeared is a demand for truth. Every family left searching is proof that enforced disappearance is not just a personal tragedy but a political weapon wielded to silence dissent. But as history shows, people’s movements do not forget, and they do not back down. For every attempt to erase activists, communities rise to keep their memory alive and struggles burning.
The Council for People’s Development and Governance joins all victims’ families and mass organizations in declaring: we refuse to be silenced. We will persist in the fight for justice, no matter how long it takes. The state may use fear as its weapon but collective courage remains stronger.
Until Every Desaparecido is Surfaced
On the International Day of the Victims of Enforced Disappearances, we remember not only the lives stolen but also the movements they built. And remembrance is not enough. We commit—with clarity and resolve—to continue the fight: until every desaparecido is surfaced, hold every perpetrator accountable, and win communities the right to live free from fear.
This struggle is not ours alone. The cries for justice in the Philippines echo across the globe, where families and movements also search for their disappeared. Together, we refuse silence. Together, we advance—until truth is unearthed, impunity is broken, and justice is finally won.@