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Why Sara Duterte Uses Fictional Names for Informants in Confidential Funds

The issue of confidential funds allocated to Vice President Sara Duterte has sparked heated debates, particularly concerning the secrecy surrounding their use. One key concern raised by critics, including leftist lawmakers, is the anonymity of informants involved in intelligence operations. Some demand that their identities be revealed for the sake of transparency. But is this truly about accountability, or does it pose a grave security risk?

Why Use Fictional Names?

Confidential funds are, by definition, intended for covert operations. These funds support intelligence and surveillance efforts against criminal elements, insurgents, and other security threats. Informants—individuals who risk their lives to provide crucial intelligence—must remain anonymous to ensure their safety. To protect them, intelligence agencies and officials often use code names, pseudonyms, or even fictional names in financial records. This practice is not unique to Sara Duterte; it is a standard security measure in intelligence work worldwide.

For example, during the anti-drug campaigns of the Duterte administration, law enforcement agencies relied on civilian informants who infiltrated drug syndicates. If their real names had been documented in public records, these individuals would have been easily identified and targeted by criminal groups seeking retribution. The same principle applies to informants involved in anti-insurgency operations.

The Real Motive Behind the Demand to Reveal Informants

The call for transparency in the use of public funds is valid, but insisting on unmasking informants raises serious ethical and security concerns. Some lawmakers, particularly those affiliated with groups accused of having ties to the Communist Party of the Philippines–New People’s Army–National Democratic Front (CPP-NPA-NDF), argue that revealing these identities is necessary for accountability. However, a more critical perspective suggests that their real motive could be to identify and eliminate informants within their ranks—an act historically referred to as “purging.”

The CPP-NPA has a well-documented history of internal purges, where suspected government informants are executed. The infamous “Kampanyang Ahos” in the 1980s saw hundreds of suspected infiltrators within the communist movement tortured and killed. If the identities of today’s intelligence sources were to be disclosed, history could repeat itself, with informants facing certain death at the hands of the very groups they helped expose.

The Blood on Congress’ Hands

If Congress forces the disclosure of these names and these informants end up dead, who will take responsibility? Will those who pushed for transparency at all costs admit to having facilitated their deaths? The demand for accountability should not come at the cost of human lives. There are ways to audit confidential funds without compromising national security—through internal checks, independent oversight bodies, and security-cleared auditors.

Revealing informants is not transparency; it is a death sentence. If lawmakers are genuinely concerned about corruption, they should focus on establishing stricter guidelines for confidential fund usage, not exposing individuals who risk their lives for national security. The question now is: Are they truly after accountability, or are they setting up targets for elimination?

I hope they know how stupid they sound every time they ask for a receipt when it comes to confidential expenditures. Intelligence work does not operate like a shopping trip. The nature of these expenses makes traditional receipts impossible—no informant in their right mind will sign an acknowledgment receipt for money received in exchange for life-threatening information. To pretend otherwise is either ignorant or deliberately deceptive.

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