Ian Alfredo Magno
AS “Oplan Tokhang” intensifies, local police precincts all over the country are flooded with thousands upon thousands of surrenderers who heed the plea of law enforcers to turn themselves in, virtually submitting never to be involved in the use or sale of illegal drugs again.
Tokhang is a scheme, which was first rolled out by police personnel in Davao City. The term is actually a compounding of two words “toktok-hangyo”--meaning, to knock and plead. Thus, its abbreviated moniker “Tokhang.” Through this “oplan,” police operatives stop over at the house of identified drug personalities where they knock and courteously request the latter to immediately stop their illegal drug activities or suffer the consequences--either get arrested or be killed in a legitimate police operation.
The sheer unveiled threat of this true-to-life Tokhang campaign has been sending chills to both drug users and pushers alike. This therefore explains the high turnout of surrenderers we now regularly learn in the news.
Good news? Sort of.
The next question, however, is “what do we do with these surrenderers?”
The appropriate recourse any sound government should do under the circumstances is to confine these surrenderers within an isolated rehabilitation facility, where their physical activity is controlled and reformed, for their eventual integration into society as renewed individuals, more or less.
In the Philippine setting, however, it is not as simple as that. Apart from being virtually below par, if not dilapidated, government drug rehabilitation facilities in the country are scarce. There is no way, as of date, that the government could effectively manage such a thick turnout. Hence, the Oplan Tokhang has transitioned from being a police work to a “health” issue.
Frankly, while driving on my way home just days ago, it did not occur as a surprise when I heard Philhealth being mentioned over a local radio broadcast vis-à-vis tokhang concerns. The issue? Apparently, speculations are circulating that Philhealth should subsidize the rehabilitation expenses of these drug surrenderers or their clinical sessions at the least.
These candid speculations had sparked yet another assortment of strong reactions from the public. During that radio broadcast, random text messages from listeners were likewise aired, and I still vividly recall some of those. One striking comment was “galisod-lisod na man gani ta ug kayod mapaninguha lang na makabayad sa Philhealth contribution... human diha lang gamiton nila, nga kini ilang bisyo tinuyu-an man” (Brief translation: “Why spend Philhealth funds on these delinquents? What happened to them was deliberate on their part.”)
Philhealth fund being an insurance fund, let us determine how an insurance contract is defined by law.
Item (a) Section 2 of Presidential Decree 612 or otherwise known as the Insurance Code of the Philippines, defines a contract of insurance as: “A contract of insurance is an agreement whereby one undertakes for a consideration to indemnify another against loss, damage or liability arising from an unknown or contingent event.”
In ordinary jargon, insurance is a risk protection device, where premium contributions paid by policyholders are pooled into one common fund. And in the event one of these policyholders suffers such risk (such as sickness), indemnity is taken from that common fund. In effect, the financial burden is “shared” via the pooling of resources.
The same principle operates with Philhealth. Premium payments are actually pooled into one common fund, to subsidize the medical costs of members who get sick and/or hospitalized.
Nevertheless, unlike any other policy, Philhealth is a socialized insurance. By socialized, it means everybody is mandated to enroll under Philhealth. No less than the law requires it. Hence, Section 6 of Republic Act 7875 as amended by Republic Act 10606 otherwise known as the National Health Insurance Act of 2013 categorically states that: “SEC. 6. Mandatory Coverage. – All citizens of the Philippines shall be covered by the National Health Insurance Program.... That the Program shall be compulsory in all provinces, cities and municipalities nationwide....”
Practically, Philhealth is a monopoly in its own right – not for profit though, but for social welfare. True, RA 7875 as amended by RA 10606 is a tangible illustration of social legislation, with general welfare as among its guiding principles. It is in line with the Doctrine of Parens Patriae--that the State is the father of the country. In the case of Government vs. Monte de Piedad 35 Phil 747, the doctrine was explained as: “Parens Patriae means parent or guardian of the country. The State as a sovereign, as parens patriae, has the right to enforce all charities of such public nature by virtue of its general superintending authority over the public interests, where no other person is entrusted with it.”
At this juncture, it is quite interesting to note that Section 11, Article III of RA 7875 as amended by RA 10606 otherwise known as the National Health Insurance Act of 2013 states that: “SEC. 11. Excluded Personal Health Services. – The Corporation shall not cover expenses for health services which the Corporation and the DOH consider cost-ineffective through health technology assessment.”
Now the question: would Philhealth shoulder rehab costs of Tokhang surrenderers? The answer depends upon the recommendations of Philhealth and the Department of Health (DOH) after a painstaking assessment.
Regardless, either way, many will question such a move.
Then again, one more question: what is the ultimate measure of Tokhang’s success? Is it the rising number of the many who are dead? Or is it the genuine reformation of one who lives to tell the tale that change is really possible?
By virtue of the Doctrine of Parens Patriae, the State, under this present administration, in theory, might just do everything to save its prodigal children, particularly those who genuinely strive to Change. Perhaps, this could be one facet of Duterte’s slogan about Change, overlooked by the many who prefer to see blood spilled on the streets.
(Atty. Ian Alfredo T. Magno is an associate at Atty. Francis U. Ku & Associates, and is deputy legal officer at Philhealth. E-mail: ianflredom@gmail.com)
