A Tale of Two Dutertes

Last week I wrote about Arthur Koestler's efforts to get inside the headquarters of the fascist rebels in Spain in 1936. He believed that it was the only way anyone outside Spain would ever get a clear understanding of what was happening, since none of the liberal newspapers in  Europe did. The role of a foreign journalist inside such places of conflict and confusion can sometimes be vital. Since the election of President Rodrigo Duterte in the Philippines in 2016, I have sometimes felt like a foreign correspondent observing the extraordinary events that have taken place here. But, unlike Spain in 1936-38, or Germany after the election of Hitler as Chancellor, it seems that observers outside the Philippines have a far different, and clearer, view of events than ordinary Filipinos do.

Like the 2018 midterm elections in the U.S., which was branded as a referendum on Trump (and Trump lost), the election on May 13 here in the Philippines is a referendum on the current president, Rodrigo Duterte, whether or not anyone dares call it that. Duterte's six-year term in office is only halfway over. And if it is true that all of the congressional, gubernatoral, and mayoral races around this far-fung archipelago were a referendum on Duterte, the Philippine sitting president, unlike his American counterpart, achieved a resounding mandate. Despite a significant drop of more than twenty per cent in the president's public approval rating, it is still at a healthy 60 percent. A majority of Filipinos are convinced that Duterte, or "DU30", is the best man for the job. But they are not exposed to foreign media coverage of Duterte's performance, which is overwhelmingly negative. Which brings me to the central puzzlement: which of the two widely divergent interpretations of Duterte's performance in office is closer to the truth - the one in the Philippine domestic media that paints him as a bold and courageous champion of the people or the one in every international news outlet that paints him as a thug and a virtual dictator?

There is a long tradition of press freedom in the Philippines, but as vocal critics of Duterte's murderous drug war over the past three years have gone down, one by one, both political rivals killed in "ambushes," and elected officials, like Senator Laila de Lima, being arrested on manufactured charges and placed in "detention," it has become increasingly clear that the Philippine press is playing it safe. On any given day, camera crews from the nightly network news dutifully follow police engaged in "buy-bust" (aka sting) operations in the streets of Manila, nabbing tiny amounts of methamphetamine (called "shabu") or marijuana (both classified as "dangerous drugs") and a handful of pesos, and putting the pathetic faces of those arrested (when they aren't killed outright) on national TV. Meanwhile, Maria Ressa, one of the most distinguished Filipino journalists and editor of the online news organization known as Rappler, has been arrested on one charge after another, including libel and embezzlement, but they have not stopped her open criticism of Duterte's strong arm political tactics. Shelley named poets the unelected legislators of the age, because they alone have the freedom to tell the truth. Journalists, belonging to the Fourth Estate, have the same freedom and bear the same responsibility.

Who is Rodrigo Duterte? Now 74, he comes from a prominent provincial family in the far south of the country. He was educated as a lawyer and became a prosecutor for the city of Davao, a sprawling city on the southern coast of Mindinao, the largest of the Philippine islands, was elected vice mayor and then mayor of Davao. He served as mayor an unprecedented 22 years. Like most provincial politicians, Duterte ruled Davao with absolute impunity. We were given a terrible glimpse of such impunity in 2009 by what is still called the "Ampatuan Massacre," in which more than 50 people, mostly journalists, were gunned down when someone other than a member of the ruling clan challenged their monopolization of power and tried to file a certificate of candidacy in an upcoming election. He sent his wife to file the certificate and she was among those killed, along with her unborn child. Ten years later, the people who ordered the massacre, as well as those who carried it out, have never been prosecuted. One pathetic member of the Ampatuan family, named Zaldy, was tried and convicted. He was likely singled out because he drew he shortest straw.

Duterte organized "death squads" and even took part in their patrols of Davao City, randomly gunning down perceived lawbreakers. Human rights groups documented 1,400 deaths from 1998 to 2016. Despite Duterte's claims that he made Davao the safest of Philippine's major cities, it still has the highest murder rate and rape rate in the country. When he was elected president in May 2016, confident in his prowess as an enforcer of the law, he told followers he would make the Philippines drug free in six months. When six months had passed, he said he need another six months. Now, after three years have failed to see the Philippines made drug-free, questions are being raised about the success - or lack thereof - of Duterte's drug war.

What astonishes me is how clearly ignorant of foreign affairs Duterte has revealed himself to be, that he could think he could get away with his killing squads in Manila while the whole world was watching. Whenever Duterte and his tactics are criticized by foreign governments, as they were when Barack Obama was the American president, Duterte's reaction exposed his total ignorance of the proper role of a world leader when basic human rights are violated anywhere on the globe. But, of course, the Philippines is not in any position to judge the human rights records of any other nation. The International Criminal Court in The Hague initiated an investigation into Duterte's Drug War, that has accounted for as many as 5,000 deaths since he took office. He responded to their investigation by withdrawing the Philippines' membership in the ICC, but the investigation, we are told, will continue. Clearly, foreign pressure has demonstrated to Duterte that Manila is not Davao, and that he can no longer continue his "slaughter" (his word) of Filipinos, users and dealers alike, involved in the drug trade with impunity.

Clearly, what has happened is that the murderous methods of Philippine provincial politics have been visited on the national government. Soon after taking office, a "hotline" was set up for people to call to report "government corruption." Except it sounds like life in Nazi Germany, in which ordinary citizens were encouraged to inform on one another if they noticed they were doing or saying anything that was critical of Hitler. And once the "extra-judicial killings" (EJK) of drug dealers and users was underway, Duterte promised every policeman that he will protect every one of them from prosecution for violations of the law. Rumors ("tsismiss" in Tagalog) suggests that the primary motivation of voters last month was fear of the EJKs. Drug use has declined because dealers and users don't want to be slaughtered.

Despite his tough talk, the president is now visibly frail and barely ambulatory. He can't exit or enter a vehicle without assistance. Rumors have been flying for months about his health problems. Despite his failing health, his party's gains in the May elections will probably embolden him to double down on his drug war tactics. His foolish promise to eliminate the drug trade in the Philippines (which he couldn't do if he lived a thousand years) is bound to end in failure. As long as he doesn't address the causes of drug use and addiction, he is doing nothing but stand on the roof of the presidential palace and piss into an oncoming typhoon. And his piss is being blown right back in his face.

It is easy to remind oneself that the Philippines is a small, poor, and insignificant country. Duterte is counting on international indifference to the slaughter of Filipinos by Filipinos. He is counting on our "compassion fatigue" as well as our notoriously short attention span. Justice within the Philippines is next to impossible. It must come from without.