The election of Rodrigo R. Duterte from local mayor to the country’s highest position was founded on the notion of change. With assurances that he will solve the nation’s problems at the quickest time possible, he was able to garner the votes and trust of the majority.
However, as the second year of his presidency approaches, the significant changes he promised to fulfill at the shortest period of time has not been fully accomplished. From the traffic gridlock to the most controversial war on drugs, the problems seem to have even gotten worse. Today, as he is confronted with lower trust ratings, particularly among the poor, and the ire of the international community, Duterte has raised the possibility of a revolutionary government. As concerned citizens, we now ask what has brought us to this situation.
Implicit in Duterte’s administration was the idea that the state institutions have failed the country. While the economy was much improved, the gains of the administration of former President Benigno S. Aquino III were not felt by the majority. In fact, Duterte seems focused on denigrating institutions, starting from the Aquino administration to the church. In the campaign, Duterte positioned himself as the “last card” for change. Recently, the government has accused independent constitutional bodies, including the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) and the Ombudsman, as disruptive of progress. President Duterte and his loyal associates have initiated threats to weaken these institutions and consequently incline the state toward a dictatorial regime.
Consider the case of opposition Sen.Leila M. de Lima. Based on information that may have been fabricated, the Supreme Court (SC) through a vote of 9-6 upheld the warrant of her arrest issued by a regional trial court (RTC). While the law presumably protects citizens from mere allegations and while cases in the nature of bribery fall mainly under the jurisdiction of the Sandigan, not the RTCs, the majority of the SC justices, through its force of numbers, maintains the legality of de Lima’s detention without privilege of bail.
This is only one of many cases where de facto political power debunks de jure political power. Other cases include the extrajudicial killings from the war on drugs, the impeachment initiative on Chief Justice Maria Lourdes A. Sereno and the Marcos burial. Under this system, the only protection a dissenting or an accused citizen could hope for is dependent on governmental whims, not laws. (At the local level, suspects were at the mercy of the local police.) In fact, political parties, except the one in power, have limited influence. The rule of law is replaced by the rule of lawyers, or to be exact, the rule of the majority SC justices. These conditions undoubtedly existed even before Duterte’s presidency. Throughout history, the state has the power to capture rents that emerge from any social transaction. Our experience under the Marcos regime is replete with cases of state corruption and violence.
Constraining the state from exploiting social conditions—sometimes even using violent means—is precisely the reason common law has been established. For this reason, the constitution organized the structure and functions of independent agencies like the Ombudsman and the CHR. However, even after martial law, despite the efforts of these institutions, the state remained corrupt as the elite and those in power used their positions to intervene in various private and public transactions. As Stanford economist Avner Greif argues, if public institutions reveal information about the location and amount of private wealth, the state (or its functionaries) may be tempted to steal it.
Under the Duterte administration, the use of de facto political power has been blatant as political will is the basis of his governance program, reflective of the strongman image he projects. From our history, we know from the outset of its bad consequences.
Nevertheless, it was forced into our lives with so much grief and horror. The chief weakness of the Duterte program is its strict defiance of our human nature, particularly our sense of justice and fairness. Surely, Duterte’s followers consciously knew the contradiction almost at once; but their response was to ignore it and change their true nature.
Paraphrasing English novelist Martin Amis, this is what “totalitarianism” really means: On their followers such regimes require a total surrender, and on the state a total claim on their citizens.
As the abuses of the Duterte’s program, particularly the war on drugs, escalated, the CHR and the Ombudsman have been relentless in restoring order. For many of us, this is the normal function of a democratic state, but for Duterte and his followers, these moves are part of destabilization, hence their call for a revolutionary government. If this trend continues, we will realize the destruction of our democracy sooner than we think.
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Leonardo A. Lanzona Jr. is a professor of Economics at the Ateneo de Manila University.