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A WEEK
into the New Year, Tourism Secretary Ace Durano was up in
the clouds, presiding at a news conference to confirm what
the sector had known: the country had breached its target,
finally, of 3 million tourist arrivals for 2007, and all
indications showed to even better performance in 2008.
Then the
clouds burst, and the rains fell, in torrents, courtesy of
the United States Federal Aviation Administration (Faa),
which let down the boom on Philippine civil
aviation—subsequently dealing the buoyant tourism industry
a major blow.
It did
this with the simple, sweeping act of downgrading the
Philippines’ Air Transportation Office (ATO) from Category
1 to the very damning Category 2. Meaning, the system did
not have what it takes to consistently ensure safety in
all aspects of civil aviation; no matter that the flag
carrier that flew so many times each week to the
US
had recently passed the tightest international safety
audits.
The
downgrade, which has drawn a wide, collective protest from
Filipinos, including the usual grandstanders in Congress
and the Pilate-like bureaucrats of the Executive, had a
most telling effect on the country’s collective psyche
because it signalled that the Philippines, one of the
first Asian countries to operate an airline, had fallen so
far, among other achievements. It has also affected
Philippine Airlines (PAL), the only Filipino jetliner that
flies to the
United States.
Until the problem is fixed, PAL would not be able to
expand its coverage of the North American territory, while
US citizens are warned at the same time to patronize only
American flag carriers. The other local carriers, such as
Cebu Pacific, are stymied from pushing through with plans
to fly to the US routes while Category 2 is in effect.
The Faa
regularly conducts an assessment of the civil aviation
authorities of countries with air carriers that operate in
the US as part of their International Aviation Safety
Assessment (Iasa) program. The aim is to determine
compliance with standards spelled out by the International
Civil Aviation Organization (Icao), the world’s civil
aviation arbiter whose word is law and can only be ignored
at one’s peril.
The Iasa
audit of the ATO found a dearth of specific operating
regulations, technical guidance, qualified technical
personnel, licensing and certification obligations,
continued surveillance obligations and resolution of
safety issues. In July 2007, after completing its audit,
the Faa held discussions with ATO to forge an action plan
and corrective measures to improve its oversight
functions. The government representative from ATO and
Congress admitted the deficiencies and vowed to undertake
corrective measures, including revising/updating of safety
policies and procedures, hiring and training more
qualified technical inspectors and passage of pertinent
civil aviation laws. Between then and now, it seems
nothing that local authorities did had convinced the Faa
that the efforts would lead to somewhere soon.
The Faa
will revert the Philippines to Category 1 only after the
ATO shall have passed the next periodic review, which
would at least take one year, according to an Icao
representative—effectively putting in question the brave
words of the Department of Transportation and
Communications (DOTC), mother agency of the ATO, that we
can get the upgrade in a few months. As an indication of
how tedious is the review being conducted, the Icao
expert, one of five invited by ATO as consultants, had to
read word-for-word a thick document—one among dozens of
documents—correcting every word, comma and punctuation and
adding new supplements, annexes and updates. The Faa
churns out voluminous records of these documents every
year, including the latest addendum, edict, decree, order,
declaration, meetings and conventions and to keep up with
their output, the ATO would need a separate building and
staff to manage the paper tsunami.
Before the
downgrading, the ATO had three hearings in Malacañang: the
first with a Cabinet member, another during a
Legislative-Executive Development Advisory Council (Ledac)
meeting, and the third in the presence of President
Arroyo. Apparently moved by the report, the President, in
her State of the Nation’s Address (Sona), urged Congress
to approve the Civil Aviation Authority of the Philippines
(Caap) bill. But then it was too late. By the time the
bill was being tackled by the 14th Congress, the Faa
handed down its verdict downgrading the country.
Following
the announcement that we have been removed from the
company of first-class aviation bodies and dumped in the
company of 19 other nobodies, local officials searched for
scapegoats and the ax fell on the hapless Daniel Dimagiba,
who was just an officer in charge, having been appointed
to the post in October after former assistant secretary
Nilo Jatico resigned.
The
Philippines has reason to be embarrassed to be in the
company of Bangladesh, Bulgaria, some African states such
as the Congo (formerly Zaire), Gambia, Swaziland,
Zimbabwe, and South American states of Guyana, Haiti,
Honduras; including the dots in the Pacific such as
Kiribati and Nauru.
Those were
the days
In the
heyday of Philippine aviation, flag carrier Pal used to
span two-thirds of the globe; we were the first Asian
airline to fly to Europe, touching down in Rome,
Amsterdam, the United Kingdom, China, the Middle East,
Australia, Southeast Asia and North America. We were the
first country in Asia to mount a commercial flight, and
PAL used to teach here in
Manila
the cabin crew of flight attendants and stewardesses of
then-fledgling Japan Airlines.
Then as
now, since it has more resources than ATO, Pal conducts
its own oversight and has maintained an independent record
of strict adherence to world safety levels. It passed the
International Air Transport Association (Iata) operational
safety audit in 2007; its fleet is being maintained by
Lufthansa Technik Philippines, an affiliate of the world’s
largest maintenance, repair and overhaul service provider.
It also meets the requirements of the US FAA, French DGAC,
European Aviation Safety, as well as the international
aviation industry standards of the Iata.
Beginning
of civil aviation
In 1931,
long before the Icao was organized, we had the Air
Commerce Act that created the Office of Technical
Assistant on Aviation Matters under the Department of
Commerce and Communications. Eventually, we had a coherent
aviation body with the crafting of Republic Act 776 that
created the Civil Aeronautics Administration (Caa) in
1952.
We should
have noticed early on what was wrong with our aviation
policy. While commercial flights grew by leaps and bounds,
from the popular 30-seater DC-3 in the ’50s, to the first
B747 jumbo jet in the ’70s and now the 600-passenger
behemoth that is the Airbus 380; and while communication
and air traffic management had leapfrogged from High
Frequency (Hf) and Ultrahigh frequency (Uhf) after World
War II to the satellite-based system now in use worldwide,
the Philippines seems to have gone in the opposite
direction.
The Caa
that used to govern our aviation was diluted, under
strongman Ferdinand Marcos, to the Bureau of Air
Transportation (Bat) and placed under the powerful
Ministry of Transportation in July 1979—apparently for
easier control by political leaders. And in April 1987 the
creation of Executive Order 125 further diminished the Bat
into what is now the Air Transportation Office (ATO), an
adjunct of the DOTC. Certainly a far cry from the
independent—operationally and financially—civil aviation
agency mandated by international auditors.
The signs
of deterioration of air service had become apparent as the
whole legal and operational structure of civil aviation
declined. Air-traffic controllers, who used to enjoy
higher salary and perks, were included in the salary
standardization law, making them no better off than
regular government workers. The flimsy argument was that
the air controller’s salary could not be higher than that
of a military general or a Cabinet member—ignoring the
fact that these latter positions carry with them a bundle
of perks. Or that the salaries of executives in
government-owned and -controlled corporations run into the
millions. The emasculated ATO could not intervene since
its meager budget is dictated by its mother agency, the
DOTC. We eventually saw the plunge in morale of a highly
specialized group, many of whom joined the exodus to
emerging aviation centers in the Middle East and Africa.
The brain drain goes on until now. Our veteran air
controllers, made to work under the ever-tightening
constraints of the lack of infrastructure and a salary
scale barely fit for survival, leave the service at an
attrition rate of 10 percent a year.
Former Faa
official David Moores, who came to the Philippines last
year as an Icao representative and had a short-term
contract to evaluate the ATO, came away with reports
detailing the critical lack of infrastructure,
specifically the air-traffic control system. However, he
had nothing but praise for the controllers who, in spite
of great odds, have been able to do a good job. Shortly
before he left the country sometime in July last year,
Moores noted that the ATO’s organizational “infirmities”
as caused by lack of funds could only be remedied when a
Caap is in place. The ATO, which would become the Caap,
could exercise fiscal autonomy to finance badly needed
upgrading and maintenance and operating expenses. Unlike
the situation now, when technical staff had to wait long
even for vital equipment owing to budget constraints.
On the
matter of the controllers, one notes that it costs
millions of pesos to train them and it would take a
particular trainee about two years before he is deemed
ready or even allowed to handle sensitive assignment. In
the screwed-up priorities of our officialdom, it seems
better to allow them to leave after they have been with
ATO for at least five years and trained with taxpayers’
money, than to upgrade their pay so they’ll stay. A
supposedly cash-strapped government opted to let them
leave and waste its training investment; and worse, spend
millions more to train their replacements, when the money
could have gone to increasing their take-home pay. At the
moment, the ATO has lined up 300 trainees within the next
three years, graduating about 100 a year—yet the industry
would not truly feel the impact of their costly training
until two years after they have joined the service.
The noble
ones who remain in the ATO stable are a morose lot but are
still able to adhere to the high standards of their
profession. There was a time they had this silent wish,
that if only one legislator would meet an air mishap—and
yet survive—because one of our old navigational aids
malfunctioned, or a sudden thunderstorm caught him in
midair and the radar conks out, then they could have a
champion for immediate legislation to improve aviation
service in this country. But because airplane and engine
designs have improved so much that accidents are few and
far between, the flying public has been lulled into
believing that we are in the midst of progress.
The
fragility of our state of safety and efficiency in the
last few years, according to Cesar Cruz, the chief of the
Manila Tower, is mirrored in the long separation times
between airplanes, a tactic used by air controllers to
minimize the risk of accidents in the face of
infrastructure problems. The long separations have delayed
airplane arrivals and departures, hurting airlines,
especially during peak travel seasons like Christmas.
The
infrastructure problems are legion: the old Tagaytay
long-range radar, built with a guarantee of 10 years but
actually in use for 26, had to be taken down regularly for
repairs. That’s the “see” part of monitoring aircraft.
Through
the years, air traffic at the Ninoy Aquino International
Airport (Naia) has kept mounting while departures are
subjected to “slotting”—where pilots are told when to
leave because of congestion in the airways. The airlines,
in turn, suffer the higher operating costs, while tourism
is affected because tourists and airlines would rather be
some place where there are superior runways, airport
facilities and related infrastructure.
‘We are
not alone’
To be
fair, we are not alone in this respect because in the
US—particularly in the busy hubs of Atlanta, Georgia,
Chicago and New York—air-traffic controllers have been
leaving in droves, with the consequent implication on the
safety margins of air travelers. According to a recent
Associated Press report, the Faa has so few veteran
controllers left that the workers’ union said it could not
guarantee completely safe handling of the volume of
aircraft of the four major airports mentioned during the
busiest periods of the day.
“They are
being asked to handle so much volume with so little rest
and fewer eyes and ears that they are fatigued, and when
you are fatigued you make mistakes,” Faa’s chief operating
officer Hank Krakowski was quoted as saying. He added that
the agency is aggressively hiring new controllers,
although new ones could take up to three years to become
fully certified for all tasks at busy facilities.
The
National Air Traffic Association (Nata), which has a
continuing dispute with the Faa over contract
negotiations, estimates that 500 veteran controllers will
have retired during the first third of the budget year
that began October 1, 2007; while in March 2007 the Faa
estimated 695 more would retire during the remaining
months of the year.
But the
US, which has 14,974 controllers, has even more resources
than the Philippines to address its problems. Meanwhile,
the ATO, which has to look after the welfare of less than
400 controllers, has seen its regulatory function also
retrogress. Certified pilots are offered a starting
monthly salary of P25,000 when the going rate elsewhere
starts at $4,000 (P200,000). Many pilot positions thus
remain vacant. These pilots inspect and review airline
companies, airplanes and their pilots before getting their
licenses from the ATO. The permits run the gamut of
aviation business permit, air-carrier permit, air agencies
permit, trading permit, flight safety program, aircraft
licensing and airworthiness, and pilot licensing. The ATO
is also responsible for the maintenance of air navigation
services, financial billings and air-traffic control.
The few
remaining check-pilots of the ATO have had to make
personal sacrifices to keep body and soul together.
Despite such sacrifices, there are persistent rumors that
some of them thrive by resorting to corruption—in exchange
for the certification, validation and renewal of licenses.
The weak
infrastructure of the ATO and the corresponding weak links
that bind the agency are not lost on either the Faa or the
Icao, which conduct regular oversight functions on 190
contracting states. It is said that Icao had to intervene
with ATO because it found it ironic that a country so far
advanced in aviation in comparison with the other 18—which
had practically just emerged from a state of aviation
unconsciousness recently—was in such dire straits.
For a bit
of history, the Icao, a specialized agency of the United
Nations, was created with the signing in
Chicago,
on December 7, 1944, of the Convention on International
Civil Aviation. Initially it had 52 member-states which
today have grown to 190. One of its early works was the
adoption of the International Standards and Recommended
Practices (Sarps) to regulate international air transport.
In 1998,
during the 32nd Icao General Assembly, it urged all 190
members to “establish autonomous civil aviation authority
due to the problems on bureaucracy and difficulty to meet
Icao standards.”
Local
aviation master plan
Unknown to
many, the ATO had already crafted a Civil Aviation Master
Plan, under the aegis of the Asian Development Bank in
1996; and in 1997, a bill was filed in the 11th Congress,
creating the Philippine Civil Aviation Authority (Pcaa),
under the Dotc’s Third Airport Development Project.
However,
the “Caap” was later adopted because the Pcaa initials
were similar to Pakistan. At the moment, Icao
representative in the Philippines Florante Magdamo notes
that majority of the members have had autonomous civil
aviation authorities in their respective states, while the
country remains among the laggards.
Magdamo, a
former controller, coordinates between the ATO and the
Icao to streamline the paperwork necessary so that we
could go back to our former Category 1 status.
During the
12th Congress, the Caap bill was not discussed, busy as
the nation was in the ouster of then-President Joseph
Estrada. During President Arroyo’s tenure, the bill
remained in the dustbin, and Malacañang certified it only
as urgent when the Faa warned that we would soon lose our
preeminent status in the aviation community.
It was
also in 1998 that the Icao had recommended adoption within
10 years of the Communication-Navigation-Surveillance/Air
Traffic Management system (Cns/Atm), aiming to unite the
communication and air traffic control of the world into a
single, seamless network. So far, most countries have
adopted the program, while others are right on target. The
Philippines, after diverting the Cns/Atm fund to improve
the
Davao and
Iloilo
airports, said that it would have the system in place in
2012, with additional one year to streamline the network.
Why did
the Caap bill remain sleeping in Congress for the last
decade? Some blame a turf war between the Dotc and the ATO.
Sometime in the 10th or 11th Congress, the Dotc proposed a
Transportation Security Authority (TSA) that would handle
all of the country’s aviation matters. This was opposed by
the Icao, which mandated that a member-country should have
a single authority where all civil aviation matters
reside. At the same time, the Senate had balked at having
a fiscally autonomous ATO able to dispense P3 billion in
yearly income; it feared the money would be squandered
through corruption. This was countered by the ATO, which
pointed out that the Manila International Airport
Authority (Miaa), with a larger income of P6.75 billion,
is also subject to the Commission on Audit.
While the
aviation bill continues to be refiled at every new
Congress, the solution has remained elusive; its urgency
lost on those who pull the levers of power. Until the Faa
downgrade, the DOTC or the ATO has not set a single
centavo to mobilize a campaign for the bill’s passage in
Congress. Anacleto Venturina, a former controller, said
that when he used to follow up the papers in Congress, he
had to spend his own gasoline money going back and forth
to the legislators. He stopped when the expenses burned a
hole in his pocket. This year, when the ATO’s deficiency
was exposed and the proverbial shit hit the fan, there was
a flurry of finger pointing to assign the blame and the
first to get it was Dimagiba, who was just an OIC recently
thrown into the fray.
Dimagiba,
an engineer who rose from the ATO ranks, is concurrently
the flight safety officer in charge. He hopes to be
appointed as Flight Safety Division head to assist the ATO
in the implementation of the Caap once it is adopted.
Meanwhile,
tourism and all its auxiliary sectors and businesses bleed
from the cruel blow, while those who did so little to
avert the crisis now get the chance to play hero. |