DEEP DIVE | Inside the CPP-NPA-NDFP's Abducted-Surface-Donate Playbook
- Juanda Alfonso
- Sep 7
- 6 min read
Updated: 8 hours ago

A recurring tactic, the Abducted-Surface-Donate scheme, by the Communist Party of the Philippines-New People’s Army-National Democratic Front of the Philippines, is a propaganda strategy used to portray NPA combatants captured in armed encounters or arrests as activists to protect their cadres.
The campaign sequence—abducted-surface-donate—has appeared in multiple profile cases over years. What is it and why should people be wary?
Abducted!
When NPA members are arrested or captured during operations, allied organizations quickly release statements branding the incident as an enforced disappearance or state-sponsored abduction. Groups such as Karapatan, Gabriela, and Anakbayan mobilize Quick Response Teams (QRTs) to stage protests, consolidate families, and direct media attention toward accusations against the military or police.
Andre, a former full-time organizer for the CPP in Metro Manila who has had several experiences in so-called QRTs, explains how the mechanism works. “Even if someone is caught in an encounter with a firearm, the line is always the same—he or she is an activist and illegally abducted by soldiers.” QRTs, often composed of students, young organizers, and a few warm bodies from organized sectors, act as paralegals and communications units, producing press releases and conducting “fact-finding missions.”
Take the case of Gabriela activist-turned NPA fighter Alexa Pacalda. Alex was arrested by authorities on September 14, 2019, in General Luna, Quezon while conducting mass work (one of the NPA’s political work done among the civilian populace) and was found in possession of a firearm and explosives. She was charged with illegal possession of firearms and explosives.
On the surface, says Andre, QRTs claim to defend human rights, but in practice, their job is to quickly form a narrative to shield CPP-NPA cadres and members from accountability, sell the case as yet another form of “state repression,” and turn every arrest into a propaganda opportunity. "Their task is to obscure the combatant status of those arrested and recast them as civilians, and therefore, victims of state repression."

Surface!
Andre says that the next phase, "the surface missing activists," is meant to create awareness, build sympathy, and put the state on the defensive. He adds that human rights lawyers within the orbit of, say, Karapatan, mount a parallel legal offensive to pressure the military or the police to "produce the living body" of the "victim."
"When those reported missing are later presented to the public, only two things usually happen, and both rests on the “missing” individual in question—his or her fight or flight response," Andre says. Many admit their membership in the NPA and explain they were captured in legitimate military operations. Andre explains that this is the point where the CPP and its networks intervene, reframing confessions as the product of “psychological torture” or coercion.
At first, Alexa chose to surrender after confessing that she was indeed a member of the NPA. In an earlier report, her father said as much: “Kusang loob (siyang sumuko). Sa nakikita ko, hindi naman siya tinakot ng sundalo [Her surrender was voluntary. From what I see, she was not threatened by the soldiers].” he said.
![A FATHER'S FOILED RELIEF. “Kusang loob (siyang sumuko). Sa nakikita ko, hindi naman siya tinakot ng sundalo [Her surrender was voluntary. From what I see, she was not threatened by the soldiers].” But after a QRT by Karapatan intervened, Alexa chose to stick to the Party line and frame her arrest as an "abduction." Screngrab from PIA](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13be87_aa4db25cf177418ba403bc4cc5b514d8~mv2.jpeg/v1/fill/w_940,h_788,al_c,q_85,enc_avif,quality_auto/13be87_aa4db25cf177418ba403bc4cc5b514d8~mv2.jpeg)
This is not an isolated case. Consider the case of the so-called Morong 43 who were arrested in Morong, Rizal during what authorities described as training in explosives handling and guerrilla medical aid. National democratic groups portrayed them as "community health workers." After 10 months in detention, the 43 walked free.
However, on August 9, 2013, one of the Morong 43 was killed as an NPA member in an armed encounter in Bulacan, while another died on June 4, 2020, in an encounter in Oriental Mindoro. A few years later, security officials said some of those who were arrested resurfaced as active NPA fighters, surrendered, and admitted that they were indeed active CPP-NPA cadres at the time of the military raid in Morong, Rizal.
Meanwhile, a better fate seemed to favor those who chose to speak their truth. While on a resupply mission for their guerrilla unit, Job David, Peter Delmonte, and Alia Encela were arrested by the police and the military on September 23, 2023, in Bongabong, Oriental Mindoro. National democratic groups quickly demanded that the "indigenous people's rights advocates" be "surfaced."
However, after a week in detention, the three surfaced publicly, admitting they were in fact NPA fighters who had surrendered and were undergoing the government’s Balik-Loob reintegration process. The three later wrote to Southeast Asia-based rights group Forum-Asia to correct a report about their arrest that described them merely as "human right advocates."
Andre explains why the "Surface!" phase is considered decisive: “Whether they admit or deny their membership [to the NPA], the CPP operatives will twist the story. Either way, it becomes propaganda against the state, and will score points with sympathizers.”
Donate!
In the digital age, Andre notes, calls to “surface” quickly move from the streets to social media platforms. And before long, crowdfunding begins. Digital wallets and online payment systems have made it easier than ever to solicit funds. Appeals are directed at local supporters, church institutions, and even foreign NGOs, often framed as humanitarian aid, legal defense, or solidarity with “persecuted activists.”

Andre explains that while the CPP provides seed support for these campaigns, Party organs across the country are expected to raise their own funds to sustain operations, including running “Free-so-and-so” movements. This compels them to be resourceful, tapping every possible means of fundraising for their campaigns.
The convenience of digital platforms has been a game changer. Crowdfunding sites, online wallets, and QR codes allow national democratic groups to mobilize donations within hours. According to Andre, the CPP-NPA-NDFP exploits these tools by framing captured combatants as “civilians” or “community workers,” thereby transforming sympathy into cash.
Take the recent case of eight NPA remnants arrested in Agusan del Sur, identified by former rebels as part of the only remaining NPA unit of the Southern Mindanao Regional Committee. Despite records and testimonies confirming their combatant status, campaigns under the banner Free Agusan 8 portrayed them as “peasant organizers.” The narrative, however, is unraveling: from the original eight, the group has shrunk to six, with Karapatan Southern Mindanao scrambling to contain the fallout.

“Every peso raised in these campaigns is part of the political, and even military, war chest,” Andre says.
He recalls how during the stronger years of the movement, “we used to write quick proposals for international NGOs that immediately provided assistance for so-called ‘distressed or under attack’ human rights defenders.” This is why the Abducted-Surface phases are so crucial, he explains—they establish a narrative that can be packaged in a way acceptable to funding agencies.
A rushed proposal, sometimes completed in just a few days, could secure anywhere from ₱50,000 to ₱200,000, depending on the gravity and complexity of the case. These funds were not only used for legal defense; much of it went to the CPP’s “central fund,” shorthand for forwarding money directly to Party leadership.
Due to compartmentalization, no one single cadre knows exactly how much of these donations actually reach the detained cadres or their families, and how much is funneled into underground operations. One thing is certain, Andre says: they help cover the expenses of legal organizers, bankroll rallies and political campaigns, and in some cases, directly bolster the CPP-NPA-NDF’s war chest.
A Proven Cycle
The names and circumstances may change, but the pattern remains strikingly consistent. Arrested NPA fighters are recast as activists, sympathy is mobilized, and donation drives soon follow. What appears to be humanitarian work forms part of a deliberate machinery that sustains an insurgency responsible for thousands of deaths over the past five decades.
Andre, once a cog inside this machinery, minces no words: “Sympathy is weaponized, outrage is manufactured, and charity is siphoned into conflict.” He warns that behind every rallying cry lies a system designed not just to protect individuals but to feed the Party’s political and military needs.
The concern is not theoretical. Former rebels point to recent acquittals and dismissals of cases involving senior CPP-NPA leaders such as Tirso Alcantara, Renante Gamara, and Benny Mendoza. They argue that these legal reprieves embolden the network to replicate its playbook. The Jaguar 8 (former rebels reject the misnomer 'Agusan 8'), currently detained in Agusan del Sur, remains at the center of current fundraising campaigns by the Free Agusan 6 Network, even as cracks emerge within their ranks after three of their members opted to surrender.
As for Alexa Pacalda, the court saw through her lie and, in March 2023, sentenced her to up to 40 years in prison for the charges filed against her. Meanwhile, the Free Alex Pacalda Network continues its donation drive on her behalf.





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