The Charge: Murder

In Negros Occidental, second most populous province in the Philippines, everything ran on time: the buses, sugar production and the voters. The Huks were nonexistent; the roads at night were made as safe as Dewey Boulevard in Manila at high noon; sugar output, hard hit by war, had been quickly restored; and the voters knew exactly what to do --or else. Special police, armed with carbines, made sure there were no slipups.

All in all, Negros Occidental was a well-run little police state and its Mussolini was Governor Rafael Lacson. He was, that is, until last month's election.

Moises Padilla was an insignificant figure but a courageous man, a former lieutenant in the U.S. Far East forces and later a local guerrilla leader who fought the Japanese. When election time rolled around, Padilla filed as Nacionalista candidate for mayor of Magallon, a dusty little pip on the map. Governor Lacson, a member of the Liberal Party, who liked to boast that he had 200,000 votes in his pocket, notified Padilla to clear out if he valued his health.

Three Days. Padilla stayed right where he was. He also sent word to Defense Secretary Ramon Magsaysay (TIME, Nov. 26) that it was time to show Negros Occidental he meant his pledge of honest, free elections. Magsaysay promptly sent a bodyguard plus 300 marines, later a large contingent of R.O.T.C. men. Then, three days before the balloting, Padilla's bodyguard was withdrawn--exactly on whose orders no one knows yet.

Moises Padilla lost the election. But the boss wasn't through with him. The day after, Padilla was picked up and a grim procession began. His hands tied, Padilla was led from one provincial town, to another and beaten methodically while spectators were told to take a good look and see what happened to those who defied Lacson.

Two Words. One day Padilla's mother got to see her son. Beaten almost beyond recognition, he managed two words: "Communicate Magsaysay." But when Magsaysay got to Negros Occidental, it was too late. Padilla's body lay on a prison bench dripping with blood. Police pointed to bullet wounds in his back and explained that he had been shot while trying to escape. The autopsy showed, however, that Padilla's legs were broken before he was shot; he couldn't have taken a step. Magsaysay sent the body back to Manila for a military funeral and grimly set to work.

He moved slowly and painstakingly. He saw easygoing President Quirino and reportedly laid down an ultimatum: it was his job or Lacson's. Governor Lacson was suspended; A civil affairs team was ordered to gather evidence, piece by piece. Last week Magsaysay thought he had what he wanted. Justice Department representatives walked into the court in the provincial capital and filed charges against Governor Lacson and 25 henchmen, including three local mayors, two local chiefs of police. The charge was murder.

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