Iloilo Airport Security Needs Clear Ownership

The knife-brandishing scare at Iloilo International Airport on Jan. 28 exposed a familiar problem in Philippine governance: when everyone has a role, nobody seems to own the gap.

A bladed weapon was detected at the central X-ray checkpoint, yet the situation still escalated into a chase and a police shooting inside the pre-departure area, which is not how a “working system” is supposed to end.

The public is now being told that the Civil Aviation Authority of the Philippines in Iloilo is “reviewing” the possible return of entrance screening, but reviews are cheap and confidence is not.

This incident was not only about an item in a bag, it was about what happened after the alarm was raised.

A flagged passenger should not be able to snatch a bag, bolt, and turn a screening lane into a live confrontation in a space shared by ordinary travelers and families.

If we are serious about accountability, the first question is policy, not hardware.

The Department of Transportation ordered the removal of entrance screening in October 2025 to reduce congestion and improve passenger experience, and it owes the public a plain-language explanation of the risk basis for that directive.

What safeguards were required in exchange for removing a layer of screening, and who verified that Iloilo’s layout and staffing could absorb the change without creating new vulnerabilities.

The Office for Transportation Security is right to point out that detection happened, but detection is only the first half of the job when the suspect can still create danger in the middle of the crowd.

What exactly is the protocol after a prohibited item is spotted, and why did it leave enough space and time for a person to run.

The answer is likely not a simple return to old habits at the entrance, because adding a checkpoint can also create long queues at the doors and curbside, shifting risk instead of reducing it.

Security is design as much as it is screening, and the real fix is to make the checkpoint environment resistant to flight, conflict, and public exposure.

That means better queuing barriers, controlled exits from the X-ray lane, and a dedicated secondary inspection room that pulls the tension away from passenger flow.

It also means a clear containment plan that does not involve chasing an armed person through waiting areas where panic spreads fast.

The Civil Aviation Authority of the Philippines should not hide behind a mandate chart, because passengers do not experience mandates, they experience whether the terminal feels controlled or chaotic.

The Office for Transportation Security should publish a short, specific checklist of physical and procedural changes it will implement, with dates, not just assurances.

The Department of Transportation should stop treating airport policy like a single template, because what works in one terminal can break in another with different foot traffic, footprints, and staffing.

If entrance screening returns, it should be because the data and risk assessment justify it, not because it looks decisive in the aftermath of a scare.

The Philippine National Police Aviation Security Group also has a responsibility here, because a shooting inside an airport is rare and high-stakes even when officers believe they had no choice.

An after-action review should be transparent about the timeline, warnings given, camera availability, and whether less-lethal options or different positioning could have reduced risk to bystanders.

Police also raised the possibility of a mental health condition, and that cannot remain a throwaway line that disappears once charges are filed.

Airports and law enforcement need a shared protocol for distressed or impaired passengers that includes crisis-intervention training, a quiet holding area, and clear criteria for medical evaluation.

None of this is a plea for softness, because the public deserves safety first, but safety is not only about catching prohibited items, it is about preventing chaos when you do.

The bigger story is the same old split-responsibility trap, where one agency sets policy, another screens, another enforces, and accountability blurs when things go wrong.

Iloilo deserves better than policy whiplash and press statements, so the demand now is simple: a written, time-bound risk assessment signed by named officials, followed by visible design fixes that make it harder for danger to reach the crowd.