weeks before the Philippines approved Dengvaxia
in December 2015, the president had received the
drug company’s executives in Paris. (Aquino had
been in town for the Paris Climate Agreement and
met with many other French executives as well.) He
hammered on the half-truth that the government was giving out Dengvaxia
before its clinical trial had even ended. (Sanofi was conducting long-term
follow-up of trial participants through 2017, but it had completed its study
and registered the product in accordance with WHO guidelines.) Gordon
went after Sanofi, too, pointing to the company’s long history of settlements
with pharmaceutical regulators around the world.
Over the course of the hearings, the media continued to report on sus-
pected Dengvaxia deaths, cases in which children who had gotten the vac-
cine later died. Some outlets—but not all of them—were careful to report
that the link between the vaccine and the deaths had yet to be substanti-
ated. The parents of those children also participated in the hearings, at one
point holding their photographs up to the audience in the room.
Gordon’s committee ultimately produced a report on the Dengvaxia
scandal calling for the prosecution of Aquino, Garin, and other officials,
though some senators refused to sign it and wrote dissenting opinions.
When I met Gordon in July, he was working late in his capacity as the
chairman of the Red Cross in the Philippines. It was past 7 p.m., and he
and his staff were making arrangements to send medical tents to the re-
gions most impacted by the ongoing dengue outbreak.
As for whether or not Dengvaxia caused the deaths of the children whose
photos were displayed in his hearings, Gordon said, “I have no findings suf-
ficient for a belief or a conclusion that it can kill. I just have the finding that
[Sanofi] had been forewarned by everybody and his uncle” that Dengvaxia
had problems.
The Gordon hearings were winding down when it became apparent that
the Philippines had an even bigger but not totally unrelated health crisis
on its hands: measles. The country recorded more than 21,800 cases in
2018, up from 4,585 the previous year. The year 2019 has been even worse:
through Oct. 19, the health department had tallied 42,612 reported cases
and 566 deaths, many of them children under 9 months of age.
The country’s immunization coverage rates have lagged in recent years,
and the Dengvaxia scare made things far worse: a survey from the U.K.-
based Vaccine Confidence Project found just 32% of Filipinos thought
vaccines were important in 2018, down from 93% in 2015.
Despite the sobering public health situation, the health department’s
Domingo says measles just opened up another round of finger-pointing
over which side was more responsible. “When you have two completely
polarized groups, it doesn’t quiet down,” he told me. “It just continues.”
Indeed, the blame game was in full swing when I visited the Philippines
over the summer. Few were spared, but one woman in particular came up
over and over again.
A Dubious Assertion
ACOSTA, THE CHIEF PUBLIC ATTORNEY, occupies a unique role in the Philippines.
As part of the nation’s Department of Justice, the Public Attorney’s Office
(PAO) has a charter to serve the indigent with free legal services. Acosta
has led the office since being appointed to her post in 2001.
On the July day I visited the PAO, which occupies the top floor of a gov-
ernment building in Manila, the tiny foyer hummed with a semi-effective
air-conditioning unit and was crowded with members of the public. A large
photographic portrait of Acosta hung on one wall. People looked busy all
EPIDEMIC
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