Twenty-sixteen was called many names. The year of voting dangerously. The complete meltdown of humanity. The age of post-truth politics. A year of terror, war, and political turbulence. A horrifying look at Satan’s Pinterest board. 

There are lessons to be learned from an exceptionally troublesome year. The global wave of populism showed us the beasts unleashed by years of neglecting the voices of disaffected publics. We learned that democracies are fragile. We learned how easy it is to normalize the language of hate. We learned that turning a blind eye is an option, whether it is the state-sponsored murder in the streets of Manila or the slaughter of civilians in Aleppo. 

We can’t keep going like this. While 2016 was the year of exposing the harsh truths about our society, 2017 must be the year of getting things right. 

What did we get wrong? 

To get things right, we first need to recognize what went wrong. A couple of diagnoses come to mind. 

First, civility was 2016’s major casualty. Civility refers to our society’s capacity to disagree while simultaneously uplifting each other. Through civility we perfect the art of living with strangers, whether online or offline. As there are no timeless truths that can bind us together, it is only our commitment to civilized discourse that allows us to preserve the sacred space that makes politics possible. Every time a woman with a strong opinion is told to suck someone’s cock, an inch of our democratic space dies.  

Civility is not just about politeness. There are instances when confrontation, public shaming and harsh language can expose society’s problems. It is why Duterte’s transgressions – from calling out the hypocrisies of the United States to speaking about the powerlessness of the United Nations – have been welcomed by so many. Incivility may be productive in making us take a second look at issues we take for granted. It does not excuse the public from standing by when politics deteriorates to a blood sport.   

Second, this year we have seen the devaluation of reason. From fake news to troll farms, one cannot help but wonder how meaningful conversation is possible when sinister rhetoric has taken over the digital public sphere.  

But even more toxic than fake news and trolls is the promotion of false binaries. The examples are many. To be against the drug killings is to be in league with drug lords. To be a Duterte supporter is not to be disente. To reject the Marcos Burial is to be dilawan. To be critical of the President is to be a traitor to the nation. 

I find these false categories dangerous because they do nothing to add depth to our understanding of our differences. They sacrifice intellectual acuity in favor of easy slogans that promote prejudice than reflection. They vilify dissent and discourage nuanced positions. They devalue the act of listening. There is a greater allure to name calling, over simply asking why. 

Rancorous talk and Manichean thinking cannot be the fuel that makes our society run. We are faced with a regrettable endgame if things do not change. The only ones that benefit from such situations are opportunistic politicians, spin-doctors and unscrupulous business people who are quick to spot opportunities to take advantage of a vulnerable public. Just ask, who makes money out of troll farms? Who earns from fake news websites? What is there to gain with mainstream media’s clickbait headlines? Who benefits from a spiteful and ill-informed citizenry?

We need to get our act together. 

The politics of creative imagination 

The term creative imagination gained notoriety this year when Presidential Spokesperson Ernesto Abella appealed to the public to be cautious when interpreting Mr. Duterte’s controversial statements. “Let’s try to use our creative imagination. Let’s not be too literal,” he said, after the President announced that he would like to “cut ties” with the United States. 

More than serving as framework to interpret the statements of a seemingly unfathomable president, I think there is something with the concept of creative imagination that can deepen the way we practice democracy. 

Getting things right means going beyond the politics of soundbites. The politics of creative imagination is a more demanding version of citizenship. It requires slow thinking over fast. It delays the immediate gratification of telling off someone online, in favor of actively listening to what others have to say. To practice creative imagination is to recognize one’s role in envisioning how things can be better. It is about being clear on what we like and don’t like, while actively considering the perspective of those who disagree with our views. 

For people like myself who have a strong position against the bloody war on drugs and death penalty, the challenge now is to articulate a clear set of alternatives and support programs that show how things can be better. For those who do support the bloody war, 2017 is the time to tell us, the skeptics, what the endgame is.  Does that vision include hundreds of new orphans, and the streets littered with the bound corpses of suspected drug users? Is this what it means to ‘cleanse’ the dregs from society? Can the nation live with its conscience?  

Twenty sixteen was the year of saying what we don’t like about each other. Twenty seventeen must be the year of debating our vision for the future.  And to set the stage for this, we must commit to the virtues of creative imagination. 

We live in a complex world that demands complex answers. Our political conversations must not be conducted in the vernacular of a three-year-old. The next year will be the critical juncture to get things right. We can’t keep going like this. – Rappler.com

Nicole Curato is a sociologist. She is currently based in Canberra as a research fellow at the Centre for Deliberative Democracy and Global Governance. She is a regular contributor at CNN Philippines and tweets at @NicoleCurato. 

2017 New Year's Resolutions of

President Rodrigo Roa Duterte

Delivered at Rizal Hall, Malacañan Palace | 1 January 2017

I’d like to just tell you a story. I was a small-time mayor and I never wanted to be president. Kung alam ko lang 'yung salary, umayaw na ako simula pa lang (If I only knew about the salary, I would have refused from the start).

But I’m here now and it’s been something like 7 months already? I made a solemn promise to the Filipino people: itong sa droga (this drug war), eradicate corruption in government, and bring peace to our land.

But I’ll make another promise, or maybe a little more than one. 

Baka itong bunganga ko linisin ko na muna (I think I'll clean this mouth first). I already made that promise to God and to the Filipino people. Itong new year, hindi na kayo makakarinig sa akin (This new year, you won't hear anything from me).

These curse words, these epithets are causing so much aggravation lalo na diyan sa mga yawa, mga human rights (especially those fools, the human rights advocates). You know I was the whipping boy of the human rights?

I’m tired of this foul mouth. I hear nothing but "putang-ina," pati 'pag natulog ako diyan sa Bahay Pagbabago, even when I ride the barge, 'pag tumutsugtsugtsugtsug, narinig ko na rin mga "putang-ina, yawa, ulol, gago."

(I hear nothing but "son of a whore," even when I sleep in Bahay Pagbabago, even when I ride the barge, when it goes chugchugchugchug, all I can hear is "son of a whore, fool, idiot, crazy.")

So huwag na muna 'yan (So, I'll stop that first). Maybe I’ll just focus on the day-to-day demands of the presidency. Maybe, not dwell on my anger so I can focus on 'yung mga kailangan pagdesisyunan (things that need to be decided on). 

Isa pa itong (This is another thing), extrajudicial, extrajudicial. We are not into it. 'Yung magpatay ng nakaluhod, nakatali, we are not into the business of making mummies. Sa Egypt lang 'yan. Pero itong mga yawang gumagawa ng mummies dito, bantay kayo.

(To kill a kneeling person, someone tied up, we are not into the business of making mummies. That's only in Egypt. But those making these mummies, you wait.)

I am declaring the creation of a task force to investigate these extrajudicial killings. Para tumahimik na itong mga bleeding hearts (So these bleeding hearts will shut up). I told you I’m not into it. So I’ll prove it.

Kayong mga pulis, makinig kayo (You policemen, listen). I am changing my order to shoot to disable, not shoot to kill. Kung manlaban 'yung drug pusher (If the drug pushers fight back), just shoot him in the foot so he won’t run away. Kung may baril, birahin mo lang sa kamay (If they have a gun, shoot them in the hand). They should see their day in court, mga yawa. My god, I hate drugs. 

I’ll make a sacred promise to the Filipino people. I will stop extrajudicial killings in 3 to 6 months. I will continue the campaign until the last killer is out of the streets and behind bars.

Dito naman sa (When it comes to) United Nations, European Union, Obama, I’m sorry about my insults. I have my beef with you but we should talk things out. I don’t like what you’re saying but I should respect your right to say it. So, let’s talk. Walang santo sa atin so mag-aminan tayo (None of us our saints so let's admit it to ourselves).

Ito pa, yung media.Lahat ng sinasabi ko ginagawan ng istorya (And on the media. They make a story out of everything I say). Don’t think you’re exempt from punishment just because you’re a columnist. Pero 'yung mga hindi nagsisinungaling (But those not lying), they’re just doing their job.

Sa mga ibang supporters ko, kung hindi na ako mang-iinsulto, dapat kayo rin. Huwag kayo mambastos, mga yawa. (To some of my supporters, if I won't insult anymore, you should stop insulting also. Don't be rude, you fools.)

Don’t tell lies. Kundi papakainin ko kayo ng papel. Hindi nga (If not, I'll make you eat paper. It's true).

Kay Ma’am Leni naman, Robredo, I don’t want to pick a fight with a lady. Next year, maybe we can build back the bridges. Tutal, I always talk about unity in this country. Alam mo, lolo ko Chinese, lola ko Maranao (You know, my lolo is Chinese, my lola is Maranao). I am a President so I have to make peace, not war. 

Ganito ‘yan, Ma’am Leni (It's like this, Ma'am Leni), maybe we can start anew. Kaibigan ko man si Bongbong (Bongbong is my friend) but I need to follow the law. There’s no decision yet on your electoral protest just like there is no court decision that your father is guilty of moral turpitude. I need to respect the will of the people.

So I’ll extend an olive branch. Mag-usap tayo (Let's talk) Ma’am Leni. I don’t know if you can still be in my Cabinet but there could be areas where we can, I don’t know, help each other for the good of the Filipino people. 

I will put at stake my life, my honor, and even the presidency on these New Year’s resolutions.

Any questions? I’m good until 3 am. 

– Rappler.com

I am sharing my 12-month journey of triumph, failures, and self-discovery.

Last year, I experienced having cardiovascular problems, such as chest pain, easy fatigability, and abnormal ECG tracings. At such a young age, I started to take BP pills. I was advised by my doctor to rest for a month. I then decided to take the challenge of losing weight. 

But more than the medical reasons in making such an immense lifestyle change, I was greatly challenged by this particular social issue. For a 6-foot guy like me, being obese is quite uncommon. Because of this, I was fat-shamed. 

I was shamed. All 250 pounds of it.

I became a outcast from society's penchant for a slender image. I became a victim of social ridicule as I was equated to either an eating machine or a lazy Snorlax.

I would always distress PUV drivers, especially pedicab and tricycle drivers who would lament my heavy load. I cannot forget the dismayed stare of jeepney passengers whenever I board the vehicle, especially when there is only one vacant seat left.

Just when I thought that I should only live through awkward social situations, my work became affected as well. People would tell me, "Nurse ka pa naman, ikaw pa 'tong obese (You're a nurse and yet you're obese)," or "'Di ba dapat alam mo pa'no mag-healthy living (Aren't you supposed to know healthy living)?" In fact, I almost did not pass my medical exam as part of the employment process partly because of my weight. 

But the greatest impact of this crisis was in my personal life. Mockery was everywhere, even from my own family and friends. I have been boxed in this weak and irresponsible persona.

I was judged by society. All 250 pounds of it.

Since when did we start to equate weight with personal capabilities? Since when did we associate obesity with liability?

I remember my college professor say, "When you're down, there's no way but up!" Depression was converted into motivation. So, I enrolled myself in a gym wherein I would work out 3 to 4 times a week. I joined 3 fun runs and 2 hiking activities this year. My diet was also monitored, having to reduce my rice intake.

In all of these restrictions and exertions, I painstakingly persevered, on top of my toxic nursing career and hectic college student life. It was a daunting task, as I slowly changed my lifestyle, but I persevered.

I persevered. All 250 pounds of it. 

After 10 months, I exceeded my goal of losing 50 pounds, as I breached the 65-pound mark come second week of October. Triumphant as I was, I strived to lose more. The desire to satisfy society's norms fueled my late-night workouts. I did not mind the draining work and school days. I literally pushed myself to the gym, though my body told me to rest. 

Boy was it a treat! I disposed of my loose clothing as I now only wear slim-fit shirts. I had numerous trips to the tailor for size alterations. Rejection rates on dates became very dismal. Shoulder bones began to reappear. Everyone in the office started to notice the weight loss and I was commended for it. I even became the envy of many who would want to lose weight.

For a very long time, I felt happy inside. The mental gratuity for each compliment gave me the drive to push myself to the limit. I thought sky is the limit! But I was so wrong. I am my own mortal limit.

'I lost my identity in the process'

My body took its toll. All 250 pounds of it.

My blood pressure started to rise again. I had tension headaches. I would feel tired, dizzy, and haggard, even though my work day was just beginning. Concentration levels dwindled. I would sleep through meetings, conferences, and even movie dates.

In turn, my work and schooling became affected. My expected outputs were either poorly or not delivered. Sick days, tardiness, and absences set in. I showed up late on my dates, much to the dismay of my partner.

In order to satisfy a sensationalized slender image, I had put my health in danger. I became blinded by a Herculean idea of reinventing myself into a fitter and more muscular guy. I reduced my worth into someone who is Instagram-worthy of gym selfies.

I completely ignored the reason why I sacrificed a lot – to be healthier. I was blithely unaware of the fact that I lost my identity in the process.

I have abused myself. All 250 pounds of it. 

I may have lost a lot of pounds, but I still did not gain confidence and self-acceptance.

I may have achieved my goal, but I failed to learn my lessons.

I failed to learn that loving myself is much more important. 

I failed to learn that body-shaming should never be the reason for people to reinvent themselves. 

I failed to learn that we can never please everyone, no matter how much we try. Trust me, whether I gained or lost a few pounds, people will still say something.

I failed to learn that motivation should start from within, not from the people around.

Sure, I simply cannot immediately eradicate this culture in our society. But what I can do is to create a culture of acceptance and contentment within me. I intend to focus on what's more important – me, myself, and I.

To you who read this, my mesage is simple: Don't "weight-in-vain." Love yourself first. 

You are valuable. And you can do this. – Rappler.com

Jerland Casilan is a registered nurse. He first posted this piece on X, Rappler's free self-publishing platform.

Congressional debate on martial law has suddenly taken public attention when President Duterte expressed strong disappointment in the way it is provided for in the 1987 Constitution. He cannot understand why the 1935 Charter's provisions for Martial Law – which gives the imposition of martial rule exclusively to the Executive's hand – are now changed to suit the 1987 Constitution.

Under the current Constitution, ratified by 76% of the electorate, the declaration of martial rule can be imposed only upon the threat of invasion or rebellion, when public safety requires it, and must be accompanied by a written or oral report to Congress within 48 hours. 

The limits of martial rule cover 60 days and Congress has to determine whether or not to extend the law, based on evidence of fact. Further, any citizen can petition the Supreme Court to exercise its power of judicial review to determine the validity of martial rule. Mr Duterte sees this as added argument for charter change the soonest time possible. 

In supporting the Executive's concerns, the solons are now faced with the dilemma of rushing Charter Change to restore the powers of the Executive in the 1935 Charter with respect to the imposition of martial rule. Some would even argue that the pendulum swung too much to the opposite side in reaction to the experience of Marcos and Martial Law. 

Instead of bickering with each other on whether or not the framers "swung the pendulum too much to the opposite side," perhaps it is time we face the music and recognize what really matters to the people. 

As earlier pointed out, there are more than 75,000 reasons why the 1935 provisions on Martial Law were changed by limiting executive action through the democratic principle of checks and balance by both the Congress and the Judiciary.  The gross abuse of power committed by Marcos as dictator resulted in thousands of human rights abuses ranging from illegal arrests, unlawful detention, torture, rape, and summary killings which are all on official record by the Claims Board. The board was created by Republic Act 10368 to compute how much compensation and reparation should go to the individual claimants.  This law is, like the martial law provision in Article VII, Section 18 of the 1987 Charter, the collective legislative response of the people's representatives to redress grievances committed by Marcos and his martial rule. 

RA 10368 made Marcos, through his arbitrary rule as dictator, accountable and liable for all the human rights abuses committed against the people under martial rule. In other words, the rule of thumb should be to direct the entire machinery of government to the full implementation of the law for past crimes committed. Also, under present rule, to make sure that the people, especially those in the margins of society, be given protection and safety against the abuses that Marcos committed; in fact, to be able to live securely against the atrocity of crimes currently committed against the poor under the guise of implementing the war on drugs.  

Yet what we witness today is a gross and morbid climate of violence and impunity that is tolerated by the Duterte administration when it admits to more than 6,000 summary killings in its 6-month term – 2,000 legitimized under police operations and 4,000 under mysterious circumstances.

Is it not the height of hypocrisy for the PNP to declare that crime has declined when there are more than 6,000 extrajudicial killings (PNP operations included) that have yet to be investigated? Most of these killings have been suspected drug users and drug pushers whose problems are mainly derived from conditions of poverty and poor health.  The solution is not to kill them but to cure them. As the year ends, Mr Duterte, his PNP chief, his loyalists in Congress and the Cabinet should take a long hard look at what they have accomplished in these 6 months – before it is too late. 

When poor people, helpless and hungry die by the thousands under the power of the police gun and private hands without justice and the President is not bothered but is concerned solely with restoring for his use the powers Marcos had as dictator, then it is time for us all to wake up and take collective action. – Rappler.com

The author headed the Commission on Human Rights from 2010 to 2015 and served represented Akbayan party list in the House of Representatives from 1998-2007.

The Americans have never had a ruder and unlikelier awakener than Donald Trump: he has done it with antithetical values – he is sexist, homophobic, and xenophobic. And he is taking over as their president this New Year.

The Philippines has its own Donald Trump, Rodrigo Duterte, an unlikely awakener himself. In fact, Duterte's assumption precedes Trump's, by 6 months, and he is proving very rude indeed – and worse. (WATCH: Duterte: The Wartime President)

But first, Trump.

As president of the self-proclaimed greatest nation on earth, a claim he disputes but has promised to make good during his four-year watch, Trump intends to reexamine its political and economic paradigms and presumptions.

Perhaps the last sleep from which the Americans awoke afraid and sweaty in any comparable way was the Vietnam war – the 9/11 attacks by Arab terrorists crashing hijacked US airliners into New York's Twin Towers may have itself caused a great shock, but not one as deep or fundamental as Trump's election, which has struck at America's very psche and culture.

The US had done well with its postwar policy of containment toward communist Russia and China until it was drawn in the late 1950s into the Vietnam conflict, which was to end in its defeat in 1975 and the surrender of its South Vietnamese client to the northern-based communist regime. 

Meanwhile in the Middle East, the age-old row between the Americans' traditional partners, the Israelis, and the Arabs had broken out into a full-blown war. And, during years of confusion, frustrations, and political realignments among the Arabs following an Israeli victory, they ended up shooting at each other in sectarian and civil conflicts, and the Americans finding themselves taking unfamiliar sides. That is precisely the one foreign-policy posture Trump is reconsidering. In fact his rhetoric betrays a swing toward the opposite extreme – isolationism.

He has framed his campaign outside global engagements, and largely owes his victory to voters who rue investments being lost to countries where it is cheaper to operate, and jobs lost to both foreign and immigrant workers.

Like Trump, Duterte rode to the presidency on a populist vote, and has his own deviant tendencies. In fact, he identifies with Trump and hopes to hit it off with him, although, with his isolationist bent, there's no telling where the Philippines would land in his hierarchy of concerns.

Duterte is sexist and homophobic, too. But the tendency that has defined his presidency, only on its 7th month in the New Year, is authoritarianism, a tendency to operate not just outside the norms of civility – not even US President Barrack Obama or United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki Moon or Pope Francis have been spared his cussing – but outside the rule of law. 

He has been roundly warned about that by local and foreign watchers in regard to his war on drugs. That war has claimed the lives of over 6,000 drug dealers and addicts, some of whom were mistaken targets and others victims of vigilante summary executions. But Duterte cares nothing of critics; he once even declared, "Nobody tells me."

His authoritarian streak betrays itself in both rhetoric and predisposition. He put the whole country under a "state of lawlessness" when two bombs exploded in a night market in his native southern city of Davao in September, killing 14 people and wounding 70 others. The suspects in the bombing have long been in custody, but the emergency, which gives him the power to deploy the police and the army anywhere anytime, remains in effect.

And, with no new extraordinary threats to peace and order to justify arrests without warrants, he has yet threatened to suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus. He has also asked Congress to amend the constitution and do away with the legislative and judicial checks on martial law, itself predicated on rebellion or invasion, neither of which is a present threat; the amendment will not only give the president the unilateral decision to impose it but allow him to go on ruling as a dictator indefinitely, as did his professed idol Ferdinand Marcos. – Rappler.com

Do not attribute to 2017 qualities it – or any year for that matter – does not have.

It is no bundle of pre-determined events just waiting to be unraveled.There is really nothing to foresee, foretell or divine, because 2017 is what we will make out of it.

Time is the human soul distended -- said Augustine, echoes Ricoeur. It is both retention and "protention": We account for ourselves by narrating what has been in view of what we want to be.

So while 2017 does offer us a new set of possibilities, it cannot constitute oblivion of the past.

But instead of regretting what has been and rueing what could not be, accept what has been as part of the story of your life -- for everything fits into the plot of that great narrative called: "My life".

Time is ultimately what it means to be.

To be human is to bring about possibilities and to be responsible for the possibilities I bring to pass, fully cognizant of the fact that choosing one door often means having to close others.

To be human is to exist without illusions that I shall be around forever.  And therefore, it is to be more thoughtful about things that really matter, and what I really want to do with my life. 

Time is the birthing of eternity.

Eternal life will not start when we die, unless it starts now. That is why we start the New Year with the solemnity of Mary, the mother of God, for she who became Mother of God, became mother of life, and mother of all those who live because of him.

So, even now, eternal life must start, and it is as much a gift as it is a project. To live unselfishly, to live with generosity, to keep less and give more, to be more regretful about people I hurt than about possessions I lose, to be more caring about those who live from day to day, than for the cash I get on each pay day, to place myself in God's hands and thus courageously go about making this world more beautiful and less cruel -- that is the birthing of eternity.

That is what can make a year truly New. NOT REALLY "Happy New Year", but "Happy New Me", "Happy New You"...for that is the gift of God and the wonder of human freedom: our capacity to take the story of our lives down a different, hopefully better turn, and to realize the possibility of joy amidst pain, kindness amid harshness, generosity in the midst of so much selfishness.

Happy New Me and You... Happy 2017 to all my family members, relatives, friends in three-dimensional space and cyberspace...sincerely.– Rappler.com

The author is a Vice-President of Cagayan State University and Dean of the Graduate school of Law at San Beda College

Fascism, someone wrote, comes in different forms to different societies so that people expecting fascism to develop in the “classic way” fail to recognize it even when it is already upon them. In 2016, fascism came to the Philippines in the form of Rodrigo Duterte, but this event continues to elude a large part of the citizenry, some owing to fierce loyalty to the president, some out of fear of what the political and ethical consequences would be of admitting that naked force is now the ruling principle in Philippine politics. 

Why Duterte fits the 'F' word

At a panel I was part of in August of last year, one month after Duterte ascended to the presidency, there was considerable hesitation in using what panelists euphemistically called the “F” word to characterize the new Executive. There is an understandable reluctance to use the term fascist, undoubtedly because the word has been applied very loosely to all kinds of movements and leaders that depart, in some fashion, from liberal democratic practices, such as their propensity to resort to the use of force to achieve their political objectives.  

However, there would probably be considerably less objection to the use of the word to describe Duterte if we see as central to the definition of a fascist leader a) a charismatic individual with strong inclinations toward authoritarian rule who b) derives his or her strength from a heated multiclass mass base,  c) is engaged in or supports the systematic and massive violation of basic human, civil, and political rights, and d) proposes a political project that contradicts the fundamental values and aims of liberal democracy or social democracy.

If one were to accept these elements provisionally as the key characteristics of a fascist leader, then Duterte would easily fit the bill.  

A fascist original

Having said that, one must nevertheless acknowledge that Duterte is a fascist personality that is an original.

His charisma is not the demiurgic sort like Hitler’s nor does it derive so much from an emotional personal identification with the people and nation as in the case with some populists. Duterte’s charisma would probably be best described as “carino brutal,” a volatile mix of will to power, a commanding personality, and gangster charm that fulfills his followers’ deep-seated yearning for a father figure who will finally end the national chaos.

Duterte is not a reactionary seeking to restore a mythical past. He is not a conservative dedicated to defending the status quo. His project is oriented towards an authoritarian future. He is best described, using Arno Mayer’s term, as a counterrevolutionary. Unlike some of his predecessors, like Hitler and Mussolini, however, he is not waging a counterrevolution against the left or socialism. In Duterte’s case, the target, one can infer from his discourse and his actions, is liberal democracy, the dominant ideology and political system of our time. In this sense, he is both a local expression as well as a pioneer of an ongoing global phenomenon: the rebellion against liberal democratic values and liberal democratic discourse that Francis Fukuyama had declared as the “end of history” in the early 1990s.

Counterrevolutionaries are not always clear about what their next moves are, but they often have an instinctive sense of what would bring them closer to power. Ideological purity is not high on their agenda, with them putting the premium on the emotional power of their message rather on its ideological coherence. The low priority accorded to ideological coherence is also extended to political alliances.  Duterte’s mobilization of a multiclass base and his ruling with the support of virtually all of the elite is unexceptional. However, one of the things that makes him a fascist original is that he has brought the dominant section of the left into his ruling coalition, something that would have been unthinkable with most previous fascist leaders.  

But perhaps Duterte’s distinctive contribution to fascism as a political phenomenon is in the area of political methodology. The stylized paradigm of fascism coming to power has the fascist leader or party begin with violations of civil rights, followed by the power grab, then indiscriminate repression. Duterte turns this “Marcosian model” of “creeping fascism” around. He begins with impunity on a massive scale, that is, the extra-judicial killing of thousands of alleged drug users and pushers, and leaves the violations of civil liberties and the grab for absolute power as mopping up operations in a political landscape devoid of significant organized opposition.

A Product of EDSA

Duterte’s ascendancy cannot be understood without taking into consideration the debacle of the EDSA liberal democratic republic that was born in the uprising of 1986. In fact, EDSA’s failure was a condition for Duterte’s success.  

What destroyed the EDSA project and paved the way for Duterte was the deadly combination of elite monopoly of the electoral system and neoliberal economic policies and the priority placed on foreign debt repayment imposed by Washington. By 2016, there was a yawning gap between the EDSA Republic’s promise of popular empowerment and wealth redistribution and the reality of massive poverty, scandalous inequality, and pervasive corruption.

And the EDSA Republic’s discourse of democracy, human rights, and rule of law had become a suffocating straitjacket for a majority of Filipinos who simply could not relate to it owing to the overpowering reality of their powerlessness.  Duterte’s discourse – a mixture of outright death threats, basag-ulero language, and frenzied railing coupled with disdainful humor directed at the elite, whom he called “coños” or cunts – was a potent formula that proved exhilarating to his audience who felt themselves liberated from the stifling hypocrisy of the EDSA discourse.

Fascism in power

Probably no fascist personality since Hitler came to power in Germany in 1933 has used the mandate of a plurality at the polls to reshape the political arena more swiftly and decisively than Duterte in 2016. Even before he formally assumed office, the extra-judicial killings began; the elite opposition disintegrated, with some 98% of the so-called “Yellow Party,” the Liberals, joining the Duterte Coalition; and Duterte achieved total control of both houses of Congress.

The Supreme Court, shying away from a confrontation, chose not to challenge the president’s decision to have the former dictator, Ferdinand Marcos, buried in the Libingan ng mg Bayani. A traditional bulwark of defense of human rights, the Catholic Church, exercised self-censorship, afraid that in a confrontation with a popular president who threatened to expose bishops and priests with mistresses and clerical child abusers, it was going to be a sure loser.

A novice in foreign policy, Duterte was able to combine personal resentment with acute political instinct to radically reshape the Philippines’ relationship with the big powers, notably the United States. What surprised many though was that there was very little protest in the Philippines at Duterte’s geopolitical reorientation given the stereotype of Filipinos being “little brown brothers.”  What protest there was came mainly from traditional anti-American quarters which evinced skepticism about the president’s avowed intentions. 

Here, Duterte again showed himself to be a masterful instinctive politician. As many have observed, coexisting with admiration for the US and US institutions exhibited by ordinary Filipinos is a strong undercurrent of resentment at the colonial subjugation of the country by the US, the unequal treaties that Washington has foisted on the country, and the overwhelming impact of the “American way of life” on local culture. One need not delve into the complex psychology of Hegel’s master-servant dialectic to understand that the undercurrent of the US-Philippine relationship has been the “struggle for recognition” of the dominated party. Duterte has been able to tap into this emotional underside of Filipinos in a way that the left has never been able to with its anti-imperialist program.

The anti-American comments from Duterte supporters that filled cyberspace were just as fierce as their attacks on critics of his war on drugs. Like many of his authoritarian predecessors elsewhere, Duterte has been able to splice nationalism and authoritarianism in a very effective fashion, though many progressives have seen this as mainly motivated by opportunism.

What surprises are in store for us?

So what other surprises should we expect from this fascist original?

Perhaps the best way to approach the question of what is likely to come is to ask the following:  What are the chinks in Duterte’s armor? How would they affect the pursuit of Duterte’s program? What are the prospects for the opposition?

There are chinks in the Duterte armor, and one of them is the health and age of the president. Duterte has been candid about his medical problems and his dependence on the drug fentanyl, reportedly a strongly addictive substance that is 50 to 100 times stronger than morphine and has the same effects as heroin. The age factor is not unimportant, considering that the president is turning 72. Hitler became chancellor at 44 and Mussolini became prime minister at 39. For the successful pursuit of an ambitious political project, one’s energy level is not unimportant.

More problematic is the issue of institutionalizing the movement. The force driving Duterte’s electoral insurgency has not yet been converted into a mass movement. Duterte’s key advisers have recognized this, their analysis being that the reason Joseph Estrada was ousted in 2001 was because he was not able to fall back on an organized mass movement to protect him. Jun Evasco, the secretary of the cabinet and a long-time Duterte aide, is the key person the president is relying on to fill the breach by forming theKilusang Pagbabago (Movement for Reform) that was launched in August 2016.

Evasco’s vision is apparently a mass organization along the lines of those of the National Democratic Front, where he cut his political teeth. This won’t be easy since, as some analysts have pointed out, he would have to contend with competing projects from Duterte’s political allies, like the Pimentels, the Marcoses, and the Arroyos, who would prefer an old-style political formation that brings together elite personalities. Needless to say, a political formation along the lines of the latter would be the kiss of death for Duterte’s electoral insurgency.

A bigger hurdle would be failure to deliver on political and social reforms. Practically all of the key political and economic elites have declared allegiance to Duterte, so that one finds it difficult to see how he can deliver on his political and economic reform agenda without alienating key supporters.

The Marcoses, who still have their ill-gotten wealth stashed abroad, the Arroyos, who have been implicated in so many shady deals, and so many other elites, many of whom have cases pending before the Ombudsman, are not likely to be disciplined for corruption, especially given their very close links to Duterte. Nor will the Visayan Bloc, that has come in full force behind Duterte, agree to a law that will extend the very incomplete agrarian reform program. Nor will the big monopolists like Manuel Pangilinan and Ramon Ang, who have pledged fealty to him, submit without resistance to being divested of their corporate holdings.

This is not to say that Duterte is a puppet of the elites. Having a power base of his own that he can easily turn on friend or foe, he is beholden to no one.  Indeed, one can argue that most of the elite have joined him mainly for their own protection, like small merchants paying protection money to the mafia. The issue, rather, is how serious he is about social reform and how willing he is to alienate his supporters among the elite.

The same goes for economic reform. Ending contractualization (or ENDO, for “End of Contract”), one of the president’s most prominent promises, is currently bogged down in efforts to arrive at a “win-win” solution for management and labor, and all the major labor federations are fast losing hope the administration will deliver on this. 

As for macroeconomic policy, any departure from neoliberal principles on the part of orthodox technocrats like Budget Secretary Benjamin Diokno and National Economic Development Authority Director General Ernesto Pernia is far-fetched. Again, the question lies in how convinced Duterte is that neoliberalism is a dead end and how willing he is to incur the technocratic and bureaucratic displeasure and loss of confidence on the part of foreign investors that would be elicited by adopting a different economic paradigm.

Social and economic reform is Duterte’s Achilles heel, and the president himself is aware that popularity is a commodity that can disappear quickly in the absence of meaningful reforms. Dissatisfaction is fertile ground for the build-up of opposition. This spells danger for the country in the medium term.

Even if he is able to quickly create a mass-based party, Duterte, to stay securely in power, would find that he would need to resort to the repressive apparatuses of the state to quell discontent and opposition. This may not be too difficult a course to follow. As noted earlier, having led a bloody campaign that has already claimed over 6,000 lives, the suspension of civil liberties and the imposition of permanent emergency rule would be in the nature of “mopping up” operations for Duterte. It would be a walk in the park.

The opposition

Does the opposition matter?  The elite opposition is extremely weak at this point, with most of the Liberal Party having joined the Duterte bandwagon out of opportunism or fear.  An opposition led by Vice President Leni Robredo, who resigned from Duterte’s cabinet after being told not to attend meetings, is not likely to be viable. 

While undoubtedly possessing integrity, Robredo has shown poor judgment, receptiveness to bad advice, and little demonstrated capacity for national leadership, and is, in the view even of some of her supporters, largely a political creation of Liberal Party operatives who wanted to convert the name of her deceased husband, former Department of the Interior and Local Government head Jesse Robredo, into political capital. 

Moreover, her continuing strong ties to the double-faced Liberal Party and the former administration lend her to becoming easily discredited among both Duterte supporters and opponents.

The Left in crisis

This brings up the left.  

Duterte’s coming to power created a crisis for the left. For one sector of the left, Akbayan, the social democratic left that had allied itself uncritically with the Aquino administration, Duterte’s ascendancy meant their marginalization from power along with the Liberal Party, for which they had, with their leadership’s eyes wide open, become the grassroots organizing arm.  

For the traditional, or what some called the “extreme left,” Duterte posed a problem of another kind. While the National Democratic Front and Communist Party had not supported Duterte’s candidacy, they accepted Duterte’s offer of 3 cabinet or cabinet-level positions, as secretaries of the Department of Agrarian Reform and the Department of Social Welfare and Development and chair of the National Anti-Poverty Commission. They also accepted the president’s offer to initiate negotiations to arrive at a final peace agreement.

For Duterte, the entry of personalities associated with the Communist Party into his cabinet provided a left gloss to his regime, a proof that he was progressive, “a socialist, but only up to my armpits,” as he put it colorfully during his victory speech in Davao City on June 4, 2016.

It soon became clear that Duterte had the better part of the bargain. As the regime’s central policy of killing drug users and pushers without due process escalated, the left’s role in the cabinet became increasingly difficult to justify. This dilemma was compounded by the fact that no new land reform law was passed that would allow agrarian reform to continue, there was little movement in the administration’s promise to end contractualization, and macroeconomic policy continued along neo-liberal lines.

The left, however, found it hard to shelve the peace negotiations, from which they had already made some gains, and to part from heading up government agencies that gave them unparalleled governmental resources to expand their mass base.

Duterte had again displayed his acute political instincts. Knowing that the traditional left was at ebb in its fortunes, he gambled that they would accept his offer of cabinet positions. And having accepted these and agreeing to open up peace negotiations from which it could get many more concessions than it would have gotten under previous administrations, the left, he knew, would find it extremely difficult to part from the positions of power it had gained. 

The price, the leaders of the left realized, would be high, and this was their association with a bloodthirsty regime. The Communist Party and its mass organizations tried to alleviate the contradiction by issuing statements condemning Duterte’s bloody policies. But this only made their dilemma keener, since people would ask, why then do you continue to provide legitimacy to this administration by staying on in the cabinet? Unlike Hitler and Mussolini, Duterte brought the left into his regime, but in doing so, he has been able to sandbag it and subordinate it as a political force. So far, that is.

Whether he is fully conscious of it or not, Duterte’s ascendancy has severely shaken all significant political institutions and political players in the country, from right to left.

Civil society mobilizes

Where opposition to Duterte has developed over the last 6 months has been from civil society. A leading force is I Defend, a broad grouping of over 50 people’s organizations and non-governmental organizations that has waged an unremitting struggle against the extra-judicial killings. Another is the coalition against the Marcos burial at the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

While Malacanang has painted these formations as “dilawan,” or yellow, the reality is that most of their partisans are progressives that are as opposed to a “yellow restoration” as they are to Duterte’s policies, as well as newer and younger forces drawn from the post-EDSA and millennial generations that have become alarmed at Duterte’s fascist turn.  

This growing opposition does not seek a reprise of 1986, perhaps heeding Marx’s warning that “history first unfolds as tragedy, then repeats itself as comedy.” It is increasingly realizing that the fight for human rights and due process must be joined to a revolutionary program of participatory politics and economic democracy – to socialism, in the view of many – if it is to turn the fascist tide. There is no going back to EDSA.

What the opposition still has to internalize though is that opposing fascism in power will not be, to borrow a saying from Mao, “a dinner party,” that it will indeed be exceedingly difficult and demand great sacrifices. Moreover, there is no guarantee of success in the short or medium term. Fascism in power can be extraordinarily long-lived. The Franco regime in Spain lasted 39 years, while Salazar’s Estado Novo in neighboring Portugal went on for 42 years.  

Like the anti-Marcos resistance 4 decades back, the only certainty members of the anti-fascist front can count on is that they’re doing the right thing. And that, for some, is a certainty worth dying for. – Rappler.com

Walden Bello made the only recorded resignation out of principle in the history of the Congress of the Republic of the Philippines in 2015 owing to what he saw as the Aquino administration’s double standards in dealing with corruption, failure to deliver economic and social reform, and subservience to the United States. An anti-dictatorship activist, he was principal author of Development Debacle: The World Bank in the Philippines, which exposed the Marcos-World Bank alliance in forging the export-oriented capitalist development model. A retired professor of sociology at the University of the Philippines, he is currently senior research fellow at Kyoto University and professor of sociology at the State University of New York at Binghamton. 

This article is an abbreviated adaptation of a much longer piece that has been solicited by and submitted to the Philippine Sociological Review and is published by Rappler with the permission of PSR.

In December, President Rodrigo Duterte set alarm bells ringing when he said he wanted the Constitution amended so that a president should be able to declare martial law without the approval of Congress and review by the Supreme Court.

What more, he called the martial law provision in the 1987 Constitution a “reckless reaction” to the Marcos regime.

But that was the entire point. To avoid a repeat of our descent into authoritarian rule, which has deeply scarred the nation, the framers of the Constitution injected safeguards.

While Section 18, Article VII, says that the president, as commander-in-chief, may “in case of invasion or rebellion, when the public safety requires it,” suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or place the entire country, or parts of it, under martial law, Congress can revoke it, if they see fit. And the Supreme Court can review it should a case be filed with them.

Even before Duterte ran for president, he was already enamored with martial law. In January 2014, he said he was “frustrated by the slow wheels of justice in the country,” and added that he would only agree to become president of the country “if people will allow him to declare martial law to address the crime situation.”

This is the first time, though, that he openly advocated revising the Constitution to make it convenient for one man to put the country under martial law.

This year, Duterte is expected to appoint 25 men and women to sit in a committee that will propose changes in the Constitution. The consultative body has 6 months to finish its work, after which Congress deliberates on the proposed amendments.

Will the President’s appointees and Congress heed his martial law wish?

This is not the only warning sign that Duterte is endangering our democracy. In his first 6 months in office, he has flouted the rule of law and encouraged impunity in his war on drugs.

He weakens institutions, treating them like his little minions.

• He is making the Philippine National Police dismissive of the law in his campaign to have them exterminate suspected drug users and traffickers.
• He undermines independent bodies like the Commission on Higher Education, by threatening to replace its tenured head, and the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas and the Anti-Money Laundering Council by threatening to file criminal charges against them without basis.
• He has been using the justice department and a separate branch of government, Congress, to go after his arch-critic Senator Leila de Lima.

We expect all this to continue in 2017, pushing our democracy to the edge.

The times call for vigilance. We shouldn’t let our guard down, ever. – Rappler.com 

The Department of Health’s plan to distribute condoms in public high schools may stem from good intentions. But with all due respect, it is unlikely to achieve the goal of reducing the incidence of HIV/AIDS among our youth nor in the reduction in teenage pregnancies.  On the contrary, it may even backfire. 

For sure the statistics are alarming: As early as 2013, a survey done by the  University of the Philippines Population Institute showed that 1 out of 3 Filipino youths aged 15 to 24 has had pre-marital sex. More alarming than this is the fact that 78% of those who had pre-marital sex for the first time in this age bracket did not use any protection against pregnancy or sexually transmitted infections (STIs or STDs).^*       

Not surprising then is the significant rise in incidence of HIV among the same age group as well as a rise in teenage pregnancy noted from 2014 to 2016. In the month of March 2016 alone, there were 736 new cases of HIV reported. Of these, 28%  were in those between 15 to 24 years of age.  Ninety-nine percent (99%) of these adolescents and young adults got their HIV through sexual contact broken down as follows (8.3% from male-female sex, 53.9% from male-male sex, and 37.2% from sex with both males and females).  Only 1% got their HIV from needle sharing among Intravenous drug users. **

The increase in teenage pregnancy also reflects the increase in unprotected sex at an early age.

Yes, we have a problem. In fact, the Philippines is rightly described as a country at risk for a “full blown” HIV epidemic. As reported by the DOH, in the month of March alone, 736 new cases of HIV were reported. This translates to around 26 new cases a day as compared to only 1 a day in 2008, 4 a day in 2010, and 17 a day in 2014. And as these are just the reported and documented cases, this number is, in all likelihood, a gross underestimation of the true number of HIV cases in the Philippines. Indeed, while other countries are now slowly bringing the incidence of HIV down, ours is rising very quickly. Time to grab the bull by the horn.

But is distributing condoms to public high schools the solution? I think not. Rather than this knee-jerk reaction, I believe we can adapt some aspects of the documented successful programs in Latin American countries, particularly in Mexico, that utilized social marketing to bring down the incidence of HIV and pregnancy among the youth. These Latin American countries, Mexico in particular, are very similar to us in many ways, both demographically and culturally.  Like us, Mexicans are predominantly Catholic. Like us, there is a very big divide between rich and poor.  Yet despite the widespread poverty, Mexico, like the Philippines, has a very high literacy rate, and many have access to technology.  

What did they do right? They targeted the young males in the equation. They utilized social marketing to educate the young men and try to change their attitudes, their outlook, and their behavior.    

All too often, and in most countries including the Philippines, the efforts at reproductive health and gender sensitivity and education are directed toward women. But real life tells us that in societies like the Philippines and Mexico, where machismo is part of life, where certain  “rules” of what it “means to be a man” are so ingrained in our culture, our young men often find themselves pressured to behave in ways that are potentially destructive to themselves and to their partners. Addressing only the female part of the equation will not get us far.  

Take, for example, some traditional attitudes about masculinity found to have been prevalent among the Mexican youths surveyed:  

• Men have more sexual urges than women
• Men (not women) have the right to decide when and where to have sex
• Sexual and reproductive issues are women’s concerns
• Men have the right to outside partners or relationships while women do not.  
• Child care or parenting is primarily a woman’s issue

Do these sound familiar?  

These attitudes sustain and support behaviors of men that include:

• Not using condoms (many actually get angry when their girlfriends ask them to use one)
• Not seeking health services
• Relegating reproductive health issues to women
• A propensity for casual sex
• Not taking an active role in caring for children they father 

Redefining manhood

The Mexican and Brazilian programs, through the help of Promundo and other international and national NGOs, targeted these young men aged 15-24 and sought to redefine “what it means to be a man" to include “responsible, monogamous relationships, safe and loving sex, and respect for women.”

These programs were combined with the on-going programs for women that sought to improve their perception of themselves and to expand their sense of self-efficacy. 

And to a large part they succeeded. Altered attitudes translated into new behavior. For one, condom use went up from 58% to 87% after the program. As a young man so simply said: “Before the workshops I had sex with a girl, I had an orgasm, an then left her. If she got pregnant, I had nothing to do with it. But now I think before I act.” ***

So encouraging have been the results that at least 15 countries, including India, have adapted the program and modified it for their own countries. In fact the manual and guide for teachers and facilitators, complete with workshop activities,  is downloadable through the Promundo website.This may be of great help to our Department of Education and Department of Health. It is a 6-month program that may be piloted easily for our second year high school students so that they may be educated and their attitudes molded somewhat before they become sexually active or even after they have been initiated into sex.

Social marketing is not social networking. And while social networking can be a part of social marketing, it is but one small part of the multi-sector approach to the problem. For the Philippines, where there is an abundance of talent and creativity, where volunteerism is growing, where technology abounds, the possibilities are limitless and the prospects are bright that we can successfully address the HIV and pregnancy issues among our youth.  

I’m sure that we will not lack celebrities willing to act as spokespersons so that our youth may finally realize that it is ‘cool’ to be a loving, sensitive and responsible male. Our DepEd and DOH can train core groups of male facilitators from among men in the community who can also serve as role models and with whom our young men can be more open about their feelings, their concerns about their sexuality, the pressures they have to go through. I have no doubt that our universities and our survey companies can come up with simple surveys for baseline and post-program studies on the prevailing attitudes of our youth. I am certain that our brilliant filmmakers can come up with movies or teleseryes that can be used hand in hand with the workshops, posters, and even internet blogs, that will help deliver the message in order to change the landscape and give our youth a chance to evade the bleak future that likely awaits them if we don’t act correctly today.

Distributing condoms to public high schools will not cut it. Condoms should be available at health centers where those who need them or want them can avail of them for free. Or they can be distributed through LGUs at targeted places where the likelihood of people engaging in sexual activity is highest, such as clubs and bars. They should not be indiscriminately distributed in schools where doing so may actually give the wrong signals to hormonally charged teenagers and have a negative effect, especially in the absence of properly trained personnel to guide our youth through the tricky and tumultuous path of becoming responsible, loving adults.  

There is no quick fix to the problem of HIV and unwanted pregnancy among our youth, but we must start quickly on the path toward the right solutions.– Rappler.com

* 2013 Young Adult Fertility and Sexuality Study (YAFS 4), University of the Philippines Population Institute (UPPI) and Demographic Research and Development Foundation, Inc.  

** HIV/AIDS and ART Registry of the Philippines, DOH, March 2016

*** Social Marketing for Public Health: Global Trends and Success Stories. H.Cheng, P. Kotler, N. Lee.   Jones and  Bartlett Publishers, LLC. 2011 

Dr Maria Dominga B Padilla (Minguita) is a clinical associate professor at the University of the Philippines, Manila, an active consultant at St. Luke’s Medical Center, Global City, and founding president of the Eye Bank Foundation of the Philippines.

[On December 12, 2016, Miguel Syjuco, the novelist, posted on Facebook his agreement with Herbert Docena's December article on Rappler saying: "Though we must of course march alongside Robredo in her opposition to Duterte’s fascist measures, we must refuse to march behind her unless she breaks decisively with both the pro-Duterte and anti-Duterte elites and denounces neoliberalism and elite rule." Mila D. Aguilar, the poet, wrote the following letter in her FB timeline to disagree with the judgment. We are republishing it with her permission.]

Dear Miguel Syjuco,

I read your FB post of December 12 together with the December 11 article of Herbert Docena on which it was based and would like to take exception with your analyses. (READ: Neither Duterte nor Robredo: End elite rule)

Marcos did something during the 13 years of martial rule that no one seems to know or admit: He disenfranchised a significant section of the ruling class not only politically, but economically: he confiscated their properties, including banks, radio and television networks and lands. You have heard about all these, of course.

Now, any thoroughgoing Marxist will tell you that when a person loses his property and almost loses his life besides, his class consciousness changes. He begins to see things he didn’t heretofore, and thereafter acts on it.

This is what Marcos did to the landlords, compradors and bureaucrat capitalist class of 1972 and the succeeding years. 

In short sweet terms, he SPLIT THE RULING CLASS OF THE PHILIPPINES.

In their place he raised up a NEW BUREAUCRAT CAPITALIST CLASS whose only raison d’être in life was to make money on government via corruption, cronyism, commissions and cuts. Quite a few of this new class came from those among the middle classes who were prone to be bought.

Except for less than a handful of compradors who managed to survive due to their extremely low political profile at that time, most compradors, and almost all landlords, were deprived of their previous wealth.

The few compradors whom Marcos entrusted with our national wealth mostly squandered it, taking after their master. Only two or three managed to build up the capital handed to them on a silver platter.

So Marcos, in splitting the ruling class, almost totally erased the old Philippine compradors and landlords from the face of the earth, and put in its place pure bureaucrat capitalists who would continuously milk the national treasury and budget.

EDSA, therefore, was a revolt of the disenfranchised sections of the ruling class, together with the broad masses who had been affected by the Marcoses’ greed and impunity.

While it is true that some of these disenfranchised sections of the ruling class regained their properties, quite a few never did. Some bank owners, for example, are still bankless up to now. And neither did a a great number of landlords, for land reform either effectively did them in, or they had to sell off their lands to real estate developers who reaped the most benefits from the sale.

As I pointed out earlier, “any thoroughgoing Marxist will tell you that when a person loses his property and almost loses his life besides, his class consciousness changes. He begins to see things he didn’t heretofore, and thereafter acts on it.”

This is why you had attempts at reform in 1986, and in the years thereafter, most especially in the last six years. Feeble as those attempts were, neoliberal as they turned out to be, sorely lacking in socialist perspective as Docena says, they were attempts at establishing good government and political if not economic democracy.

At the same time as the Marcos-disenfranchised elites tried to change the political and economic landscape of the nation, however, the bureaucrat capitalist class nurtured and grown by Marcos worked in the background, increasing their share of the commission pie up to a harrowing 60 percent in the time of Arroyo and getting rich off jueteng, smuggling, and the drug trade.

This is the background against which you must place the “yellows.” There is no doubt that their efforts to establish good government and economic and political democracy through economic development and entrepreneurship are genuine and sincere. 

But they were and still are subject to the vagaries of the corrupt who simply could not be wiped out, not even if they were all killed off (because 1, they breed; and 2, you can’t kill the idea of corruption).

Now you see the “yellows” out of power again. And you know why? Because as early as 2013, in fact right from the start of the Aquino administration, the corrupt — the bureaucrat capitalists of the Marcos mould — were already plotting to unseat them and take over.

The rest, as the trite would put it, is history. The corrupt found Duterte, their perfect gambit, and projected him to the hilt, with not a little help from their planted social media machinery.

Everybody already knows that Duterte is no reformer. Many have said he is the most dangerous man in Asia if not the world — with a little help from his friends in China, Russia and the Trump empire, of course. 

But he is also the trump card of the corrupt, the bureaucrat capitalists of the Marcos mould, whose aim is to divvy up the country via Warlord Federalism.

He is their man. HE IS IN FACT ONE OF THEM.

Now, in light of this, I cannot imagine equating him and his fellow bureaucrat capitalists with the disenfranchised classes you call “yellows” who never really regained their previous economic standing, and whose limited view of governmental reforms are so much better than the mess we find ourselves in today.

With Trump at the helm of the United States, can the “yellows,” will the “yellows” even hold on to their neoliberalism? Even now they are already balking at the prospect of January 2017, when he takes over.

And will not this development further radicalize, rather than cow them into submission or make them cooperate with the New World Order?

For that matter, will continuously alienating them result in your dream of social democracy, or for that matter my dream of national democracy, much less so Herbert Docena’s socialism?

Should we not now start to think in terms of as broad a front as possible against the D(ut)A(rroyo)M(arcos)ned Alliance that promises to ruin our country?

And should this front not include both the yellows and the reds in all the splendor of their colors?

It may be our only chance. 

Miguel's first response:

Thank you, Mila, for taking time to converse and explain this perspective to me. I really do appreciate it.

I think we actually broadly share the same values and perspectives. My post was admittedly born out of frustration with the entire system, but I do maintain that I feel we need some sort of renewal/reinvention that would allow for a united front against the D-A-M alliance. Especially now, given the undeniably successful rhetoric, binary narrative, and legitimate anger that all together ushered in Duterte and is allowing the Marcoses to take advantage and return. 

Can we reject the yellow movement and its past and present contributions? Of course not. But I fear it will take a really long time, and risk a disastrous defeat at the next election (which will likely include a Marcos), if we insist on pushing its rehabilitation in the eyes of Filipinos as the only alternative. I fear, too, that it will only further play into the Marcos propaganda as well. These narratives are deeply rooted, and clearly used with great efficacy. 

And I do think we must  somehow break that. I don't quite know how – often one's posts are thinking aloud, while comments conversations are forming ideas amongst other people's. (Which is why I'm grateful to you for hearing me out and engaging with me in this civil discourse.) I wish I knew the way forward, but I do suspect that now is the time for some sort of revolutionary realpolitik thinking, to somehow rally people, regardless of the color of their banner, against this brutal false savior.

Mila Aguilar's answer:

No, we aren't rehabilitating the yellows, Miguel, all we have to do is state the facts about what they've done and failed to do. And even those statements of truth will not constitute the only alternative.

What we do have to do is to break the Duterte binary narrative making the Yellows the enemy of the people, thereby deflecting ire from his own person and deeds. Because in truth they are not. He is, and his DAMned Alliance is. THEY – the Duterte-Arroyo-Marcos axis – represent the epitome of greed and impunity, no one else.

That is "the way to rally people, regardless of the color of their banner, against this brutal false savior."

(You said that so well, I can't help but quote it.) 

Miguel's second response:

Mila, what then shall we do to break that binary narrative? Beyond stating the facts, which we keep doing again and again, to no avail?

Mila Aguilar's answer:

In stating the facts again and again, we have already succeeded in drawing the millennials to the fight for truth, Miguel. That is a very big step in a matter of five months.

We have already taken the fight for truth to the streets. Kalampagin pa more! The fact is that our enemies are bots, literally and figuratively, and it's only a matter of time before their novelty wears off.

We must expect the worst, of course. There will be martyrs among us. Martyrdom is no small price to pay for the liberty of the nation from greed and impunity. But it is a price that must be paid in the name of truth, justice and righteousness.

Miguel, it took us more than 15 years from the rallies of the First Quarter Storm of 1970 to oust the Marcos dictatorship. We had to suffer the underground, the mountains, jail, torture, rape and all manner of indignities (I personally, the killing of my husband) to get to where we are now. Only to get to where we are now, ironically. But it was worth it. We have learned a lot, and now allow me to impart my main lesson to you.

You see, we fought the Marcos dictatorship then with our own minds, hands and feet. It was karipas all the way. We shall not, we should not, fight the DAMned Axis of Evil that way anymore. 

Today, we should fight it with God instructing us all throughout.

I don't know if you believe, Miguel, but I do. Many of us do, and an increasing number are crying out to God from sheer helplessness. This will be the greatest ingredient of our success.

It is what will put all colors together.

Miguel's third response:

I believe in the Filipino people, Mila. I believe we will ultimately find out way, because we always have. But I don't believe our enemies are bots – I know that many Filipinos legitimately back Duterte and his allies, out of legitimate anger and impatience and frustration. I've gone to their rallies, interviewed them, chatted with OFWs around the world, and heard them out. They parrot the same propaganda they're all being fed, but their hunger for change is very real. There's something very human and un-bot-like in that. And I sure hope we can reach them somehow. 

But I will stand with you in this fight. I think you know you can count on that.

Mila Aguilar's response:

Yes, Miguel, I know we can. I know many of the discontented too; in fact I count relatives and friends among them. I can feel whereof you speak. 

But we shall be able to work this out. The coming terror will convert the yellows much more radically than it did during Marcos' martial law. We shall all overcome.– Rappler.com

Mila D. Aguilar was head of the National United Front Commission of the Communist Party of the Philippines in the last years of her 13 years underground. She was imprisoned from 1984-1986. Her nom de guerre was Clarita Roja.

It was around Christmas time in 2012, then President Benigno Aquino III quietly signed the Responsible Parenthood and Reproductive Health (RH) Act into law. It was the fulfillment of Aquino’s promise to give every Filipino the RH information and services they need to plan for their families.

The passage of the RH law was the gift of the right to choose. Its triumph was the result of decades of tireless lobbying by women’s groups and grassroots leaders. But as far as victory celebrations went, it was a short-lived one.

Opposition groups that tried to block the passage of the law continued to try stop its implementation. While we were distracted by the distressing events of 2016, the Supreme Court issued a temporary restraining order (TRO) preventing the Department of Health (DOH) from procuring and distributing contraceptives, effectively blocking the full implementation of the RH law.

According to the Philippine Legislators’ Committee on Population and Development (PLCPD), the “TRO is based on a petition alleging that all contraceptives are abortifacient; it is aimed at having these vital commodities totally banned from the market. (READ: Lift the TRO now, SC urged)

The unkindest cut of all

Of all the wounds inflicted on the RH law, the unkindest cut of all was a literal one. In January 2015 – almost a year ago – the Senate cut the P1-billion (then equivalent to $21 million) DOH budget allocated for the purchase of contraceptives for poor communities and public health centers as mandated by the RH Law.

The budget cut effectively stripped the DOH of its mandate to service the RH needs of an estimated 13.4 million Filipino women. At least 6.1 million of these women currently use contraceptives, while 7.3 million have an unmet need for contraception.

Since the Supreme Court’s TRO and the budget cut only applied to the government, NGOs and civil society organizations had to pick up the slack and stretch the already limited resources to fill the family planning gap.

Now, while the DOH and other health advocates continue to push for the lifting of the TRO and the full implementation of the RH Law, we can all do our part in helping Filipino women meet their family planning needs.

You can support the following organizations that have been empowering Filipino families to exercise their RH rights even when the health department could not.

1) Roots of Health

Roots of Health (ROH) is one of the few RH organizations in Puerto Princesa, Palawan. It's headed by Ami Evangelista-Swanepoel and husband Marcus, but it is not surprising to see Ami’s mom, Susan, and dad, Oscar, helping out.

The poverty incidence in Palawan is more than 60% and you become aware of this once you venture out to the rural areas outside Puerto Princesa.

In the 7 years since they started ROH, one incident remains foremost in Ami’s mind when she thinks about the gap in reproductive health care. In 2015, ROH joined the Philippine Navy on a medical mission to Balabac in southern Palawan. The team traveled 6 hours by land, another 6 hours by boat, and hiked another 2 hours before they finally got to Sitio Melville in Balabac. 

People had been waiting for them for about 5 hours already. “The team’s very first client who decided that she wanted an implant was only 30 years old yet had 11 children. Another girl, only 17, came carrying her four-month-old while her three-year-old walked behind her. She wanted an implant, but when she took the prerequisite pregnancy test, it came out positive. She is, for the fourth time in her young life, pregnant,” Ami wrote in an ROH blog post.

“It’s so easy to say that people can buy contraceptives at the drugstore, but that is not the reality for many poor women especially in the rural areas,” Ami added

You can support ROH by clicking this link.

2) Likhaan Center for Women’s Health

In 2000, when Mayor Lito Atienza issued what was effectively a contraception ban, the women could not get contraceptives in any of the Manila Health Clinics (READ: Imposing Misery). 

Only natural family planning methods were taught and made available. Women had to depend on the Likhaan midwives and barangay health care workers who went door to door to check on them, keeping track of those who were pregnant or had just given birth to make sure they were getting the medical attention they needed.

Likhaan and their barangay health workers serve as the link between women and the rural health center. They are health clinics on foot, going to the women where they are so they don’t have to worry about who will take care of their children just to get to the clinic.

(Read about Likhaan’s Lina Bacalando and the work of other Barangay Health Workers here.)

Donate now to support Likhaan and the women in the communities the group serves.

Democratic Socialist Women of the Philippines (DSWP)

Democratic Socialist Women of the Philippines (DSWP) services the communities in Payatas and Bagong Silang, Caloocan which is the biggest barangay in the Philippines with a population of more than 200,000.

In a Facebook message posted by DSWP head Beth Angsioco, the group said it needs medical supplies.

Women in poor communities need your assistance for their RH needs. Perhaps you would like to help those who want to access contraceptive implants free of charge.

This contraceptive method is quite popular because it is effective for 3 years. Imagine the relief we can give to those who want and can avail of this.

The implant is quite expensive to get from private providers. We are told that costs can run from P 6,000 to P 12,000, depending on the doctors and facilities that provide it.

My group, the Dswp Federation, has supplies of implants and this is among the methods we provide to poor women. We also have doctors and nurses who provide family planning services. As you know, because of the Supreme Court TRO, the DOH and all its "agents" are prevented from offering this as a contraceptive method. Thus, only private service providers and civil society groups are able to provide the service.

To meet the big demand from women in poor communities, we need help for the ancillary supplies necessary to do the work.

According to Angsioco, DSWP particularly needs pregnancy test kits. Before women are administered implants, a pregnancy test is needed to verify that the patient is not pregnant.

Contact DSWP through their Facebook page.

If you think the Supreme Court should lift the TRO on contraceptives, make your voice heard by signing this on-line petition to lift the TRO. – Rappler.com 

Ana P. Santos is Rappler’s sex and gender columnist. In 2014, she was awarded the Persephone Miel Fellowship by the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. Santos is not a member or part of any of the women’s health organizations mentioned here.

This is the first of a series of articles  the authors (and other collaborators) will be writing on constitutional change. The intent of the series is to influence the process of amending or revising the Constitution that is about to be launched this January.

President Rodrigo Duterte has laid the foundations for this process with the issuance of Executive Order No. 10 last December 7, 2016. The order creates a 25-member Consultative Committee that is tasked to “study, conduct consultations, and review the provisions of the 1987 Constitution including but not limited to the provisions on the structure and powers of the government, local governance, and economic policies.” The President is expected to appoint the chairperson and members of the Committee that has a 6-month deadline to submit its recommendation to him. Eventually, their work will be submitted to Congress that is expected to convene as a constituent assembly.

This article is on the implications of federalism, as distinguished from a unitary system, on our legal and judicial systems. It will be followed by articles on the economic provisions, human rights, public accountability, social justice, and on the debate between a parliamentary versus a presidential system of government.

Legal consequences of federalism

Equitable development and genuine, lasting peace. These are among the positive outcomes envisioned and often cited by advocates of a shift from the country’s current unitary system to federalism. Advocates argue that these outcomes will be realized as a result of more power and discretion placed in the hands of the states or "federal regions" (according to one proposal by Congress, the 2008 Joint Resolution No. 10), rather than being concentrated in distant "imperial" Manila. Indeed, a key feature of a federalist set-up is the sharing of sovereignty and jurisdiction between a national/federal/central government and the governments of individual states or regions. Presumably, similar to other federalist jurisdictions, the national government will retain control and authority over defense and foreign affairs, including trade.

Beyond these areas specifically allocated to the central government, the state/regional governments are supposedly granted greater power, discretion, and resources to independently determine the fates of their own units and constituencies. Moreover, the people are theoretically enjoined to greater participation in political life as they are brought closer to their elected leaders, and in turn, the latter are made more accountable to the citizens.

One significant consequence of this sovereignty-sharing arrangement is the likelihood of having discrete legal and judicial systems within the Philippines. In other words, while still sharing the same citizenship and a common set of national or federal officials, Filipinos could be subjected to different laws (and, to a certain extent, moral codes), depending on which state/region they are residing or conducting their activities in. Hence, there is a myriad of questions that need to be asked – and eventually answered – in terms of the changes in the way that people would perceive and interact with the law and with the courts.

The more obvious and certain differences will be readily observed in the statutes relating to fiscal matters and regulatory concerns, since the shift to federalism is precisely rooted in the belief, among others, that the problems of unequal income and development, as well as of social unrest and armed violence, are best resolved by granting the various parts of the country (regions) broader autonomy in their decision-making and making them more "in-control" of their own resources. There is indeed much to be said about this proposition and the possible consequences of having tax rates differential and distinct regulatory policies across the states/regions. This article focuses, however, on the less expected, or at least less discussed, effect of a shift to federalism, namely, the emergence of multiple legal and judicial systems within the country.

Assuming, for purposes of this piece, that the Bill of Rights enshrined in Article III of the 1987 Constitution will subsist in the shift to federalism, there remain a number of possible variations in the civil, criminal, and administrative laws that each state/regional legislature can formulate on its own.

For instance, under a federalist system, the minimum ages (i) for criminal responsibility, (ii) for marriage, and (iii) for access to work may be altered, lowered, or set differently by each of the states/regions. It bears to ask in this regard whether or not the country is prepared to treat each Filipino child differently, and whether or not such resulting disparate treatment would be consistent with Philippine international obligations under relevant treaties, particularly the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC).

Relatedly, the requisites for marriage might vary across states/regions, such that same-sex marriage may become allowed in the more "liberal" jurisdictions. Restrictions might likewise be loosened in some states/regions, enabling the legalization of divorce. How these changes in laws/statutes governing persons and family relations would affect the provisions in the present Constitution – treating the family as ‘the foundation of the nation" and marriage as "an inviolable social institution… [to be] protected by the State" – is a question that Congress (acting as a constituent assembly) or members of a constitutional commission have to contend with.

As in other countries that have a federalist system like the United States of America, France, and India, certain activities may be legalized or decriminalized in various parts of the Philippines, but remain to be criminal acts in others. On the upside, in the light of the present lacuna in the law, online harassment can be properly defined and made punishable – perhaps at a faster pace – by some state/regional statutes. This would largely depend on the attitude of the population in a given state/region towards the balance between the exercise of the right to freedom of expression in cyberspace vis-à-vis the perceived governmental duty to protect victims of harassment in any form or medium. In connection to this, some states/regions may finally heed calls made in the past to decriminalize libel and to impose prohibitive monetary fines instead.

Conversely, there is also the possibility of declaring legal in particular states/regions the use of marijuana and other addictive drugs for medical purposes. Indeed, given the greater capacity of different sets of peoples, through their respective governments, to determine what activities are objectionable, and therefore punishable, the country would possibly have to deal as well with the reality that citizens of the Philippines have differing or conflicting opinions and moralities. A grave concern in this regard is whether such realization would affect the people’s sense of national unity, which is said to be a foundation of national security.

The judiciary in a federalist system

Concomitant to these foreseen changes in the statutes and the legal system as a whole, one also ought to ask how these would affect the way that courts work.

Critically, much thought has to be devoted to the reorganization of existing courts, the creation of new ones, and the determination of the hierarchy and relationship amongst them. Should judges in the state/regional courts become elected officials, or should they still be appointed like their peers in the federal/national courts? Can state/regional courts motu proprio refer cases to, or request opinions from, the federal courts, and vice-versa?

Additionally, although not a natural or necessary consequence of the shift to federalism, this might likewise be an opportune moment to deliberate on the pros and cons of establishing a constitutional court in the Philippines. This constitutional court would sit alongside the current Supreme Court, and would adjudicate only on cases involving constitutional questions. The existing Supreme Court may be replaced by or renamed as the Federal Supreme Court, and would continue to act as the court of last resort for all types of cases. The appellate jurisdiction of the Constitutional Court and of the Federal Supreme Court will thus have to be clearly delineated.

In connection to this, there exists a potential agency problem: why should a federal court, which presumably is not directly constituted by the people of a specific state/region, be granted authority to pass upon the proper application and construction of a law crafted by the state/regional legislature that the said people themselves have elected? Relatedly, should a federal court’s interpretation of a state/regional law prevail over the interpretation of a state/regional court? The problem might also be framed in a conflict-of-laws perspective: would it be proper for a federal supreme court, in its appellate jurisdiction, to apply state/regional law, instead of federal law, which is theoretically the only law that the federal court is authorized and competent to interpret?

Federalism and the legal profession

With the creation of distinct state/regional governments, including judiciaries, another critical aspect to consider is the impact of these changes on the legal profession, i.e., the lawyers. With the shift to federalism, will there then be separate bar associations to be formed per state/region? Will existing lawyers authorized to practice law in the entire Philippines be required or compelled to “re-take” the bar examinations in each state/region? To recall, the present Supreme Court has traditionally been the sole entity constitutionally mandated and authorized to regulate the practice of law in the country. With the shift to federalism and the creation of discrete state/regional courts, would it then become acceptable for the supreme courts in each state/region to independently determine the qualifications for admission to the bar, thereby opening up the possibility of having divergent or inconsistent bar admission and ethical rules? In turn, how would these affect legal education in the country? Are the existing law schools adequate in number (per state/region) and sufficiently prepared to train would-be lawyers and to teach the newly-enacted state/regional laws?

A related situation that needs to be addressed is the possibility of having a dearth of lawyers in one state/region and a surplus in another. This can potentially impact on the people’s constitutional right to competent and independent counsel. All of these clearly require careful deliberation, inasmuch as these are quite delicate matters riddled with important constitutional implications. The debates and discussions about whether or not to pursue the shift to federalism should therefore include these issues/questions.

A charter that unites us

As a final note, without refuting or discounting the advantages of adopting a federalist system, one should still ponder the potential harms of such a shift, including an increased divisiveness or a diminished sense of unity among Filipinos, as a result of having distinct/discrete legal and judicial systems to govern their everyday lives. This raises an imperative for crafting a fundamental law, i.e., a constitution, that would continue to highlight, and serve as reminder of, the subsistence of our shared and common experiences and characteristics as one Filipino people, in spite of the admitted existence of particular idiosyncrasies (cultural, religious, political) among the population and which idiosyncrasies are made manifest in the content of laws.

Law, being a potent instrument of social change, as well as a product or expression of human nature and creativity, has a critical role in steering a nation to the people’s desired destination. Accordingly, reforms in the law or laws, not to mention in entire legal and judicial systems, especially those as far-reaching as the ones mentioned in this piece, would most likely bear significant consequences not only on the manner by which government is organized, but more importantly, with respect to the very way that people live their daily lives, perceive their roles within a society and a country, and deal with political, economic, and social institutions that the law has shaped as well.

The policy choice to shift to federalism, if thoroughly studied and prudently executed, will probably bring about significantly positive results, including those that advocates are expecting and rooting for. Foremost of such results must be that many Filipinos would begin to reap benefits that they desire but could previously not enjoy due to, among others, the undue concentration of power and resources to the "center." However, the recognition and accommodation of differences and discretion that lie at the heart of a federalist system should not jeopardize more than a century’s worth of nation-building efforts, which were based on finding sufficient common and shared interests among a people of different views and backgrounds.

The emergence of separate and distinct legal and judicial systems within the country need not necessarily divide Filipinos, but it bears to recognize that such a threat does exist, and it should at least cause one to think though the consequences of shifting to a federalist system, or urge one to explore all possible means to avoid the potential dangers accompanying such shift and to design a federal system that unites and not dviides. – Rappler.com

Tony La Viña is former dean of the Ateneo School of Government.

Johanna Aleria P. Lorenzo is a doctoral candidate in Yale Law School, where she also obtained her Master of Laws (LL.M.) degree. She currently works on the subjects of international development and global administrative law, and previously served as Legal Specialist for an anti-corruption and good governance project with the Ateneo School of Government and the Department of Finance (DOF).

Combating social inequality is hard in itself. But the recent debacle over the proposed SSS (Social Security System) pension hike highlights the even tougher task of redressing inequality across generations: that is, balancing the welfare of current and future Filipinos.

This is already the second consecutive year that Congress has pushed for a P2,000 across-the-board pension hike. Proponents say that the hike will improve the living conditions of the 2 million or so current pensioners of the SSS.

But the Duterte Cabinet’s economic managers – Secretaries Ernie Pernia, Ben Diokno, and Sonny Dominguez – are persuading the President to reject the bill in its present form owing to the negative repercussions it will have on the financial sustainability of the SSS. In particular, the Cabinet members warned that the P2,000 hike will drastically reduce the lifespan of the reserve funds of SSS.

Naturally, such claim was questioned by some of the bill’s proponents, who recently dared the 3 secretaries to live on P40 per day to “feel” the plight of SSS pensioners. Some of them even called for the Cabinet members’ ouster at one point.

In this article we try to evaluate the competing claims by arriving at our own back-of-the-envelope estimates of the hike’s effect on the lifespan of SSS. We then use these figures to show the different scenarios that future beneficiaries face.

How to fill a leaky bucket

First, it may help to review the basics. The SSS is a social insurance system run by the government. It maintains a “reserve fund” from which it can provide financial assistance to its members in times of sickness, disability, maternity, old age, or death.

Maintaining a large-enough fund lies at the heart of the business model of SSS. The fund grows when contributions from its members grow, or when returns on the investments of SSS grow. Meanwhile, the fund contracts when benefit payments to members grow, or when operating expenses grow.

Think of the task of trying to hold as much water in a leaky bucket. As long as there’s more water pouring into the bucket than is escaping through the cracks, then water will be present inside at all times.

Analogously, if inflows of money always exceeded outflows, then the SSS reserve fund can theoretically provide benefits in perpetuity.

However, this typically isn’t the case: outflows have historically exceeded inflows.

This shortfall is worsened by the fast growth of the elderly population (around 3 times the annual growth of the working population), which means that the SSS will have to make larger pension payments in the future.

As a result, there will come a time when more funds will leave the SSS reserve fund than will replenish it, thus depleting the fund eventually.

Back in the 1980s, this so-called “fund life” of the SSS reached 70 years (the international benchmark). But since then, such fund life has gone down significantly (see Figure 1). As of 2016 the fund life is projected to last for only 26 years (up to 2042 or thereabouts).

One key reason behind the diminished fund life is that pension hikes have happened much more frequently than contribution hikes. Data show that between 1980 and 2014 there have been 22 pension hikes versus only 3 contribution hikes.

Indeed, pension hikes not accompanied by contribution hikes only raise the chances that future SSS members will have nothing to enjoy once they get to retirement age.

Effects of yet another pension hike

Today we’re faced with yet another request to hike SSS pensions – one so large that it threatens to drastically cut the fund life of SSS by 10 to 17 years.

I tried to look for the data behind these figures, to no avail. To get around this, I did my own back-of-the-envelope calculations using past data and some reasonable assumptions. (I myself am not an actuary, and formal studies to project the lifespan of SSS funds use much more complex models.)

Figure 2 below shows 3 possible scenarios about the SSS fund life.

First, if no pension hike occurs, the reserve fund will still continue to grow until the mid-2030s, but will be depleted just before 2040. This is within the neighborhood of the government’s current projections.

Second, if a P2,000-pension hike occurs in 2017, the fund will shrink until it becomes depleted by 2025. This drastically cuts the SSS fund life, corroborating the statement of the Cabinet secretaries.

Third, an alternative P1,000-hike is not much better: the fund will be depleted by 2031, a postponement of just 6 years.

Options moving forward

Remember that the international benchmark for the fund life is 70 years. Hence, the proposed hike – holding other things constant – does nothing but imprudently shorten the fund’s lifespan away from this goal. It’s like deliberately shortening the life of someone who already has a few years to live.

To be sure, there are ways to extend the SSS fund life to accommodate any pension hike.

But as things stand, the SSS is supposedly working at an 88% collection rate. Hence, a contribution hike may be a more effective way to augment revenues. Indeed, the Cabinet members recommended a commensurate increase of SSS contribution rates from 11% to 17%. But lawmakers are likely to see this as a tough sell to the public.

Yet another possibility is to raise the retirement age from 60 to 70. By extending the working life of the elderly, this will increase social security contributions and cut benefits, thus extending the life of the SSS reserve fund. But this is a highly contentious issue requiring careful and extensive study.

Conclusion: We need forward-looking, sound economic policies

There’s no denying that today’s retirees enjoy pensions that are too small to cover their daily expenses, especially on food and medicine.

But the SSS fund life is too far away from the ideal lifespan of 70 years. Hence, the proposed P2,000-pension hike (without any accompanying increase in contributions) would only drain the SSS fund much faster and make it more difficult for society to provide for the future of Filipino pensioners.

The issue also showcases yet another important tradeoff between politics and economics. In this era of global populism never has it been more crucial to demand forward-looking and sound economic policies.

Arguably the best thing that came out of this pension debacle is President Duterte’s surprising willingness to listen to advice from his economic managers.

Moving forward, the President ought to maintain this openness to reason. After all, he is responsible for policies that will affect the well-being of not just the current – but also the future – generations of Filipinos. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD student and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. His views do not necessarily reflect the views of his affiliations. Thanks to Chris Monterola (whose earlier analysis helped inspire this article) and Kevin Mandrilla (for very valuable comments and suggestions).

It doesn't look like Edgar Matobato, the whistleblower on President Rodrigo Duterte, is going away. He's prepared to hang for his crime, he maintains, but Duterte should go first.

Matobato remains in hiding, but he has made himself secretly accessible to news hounds. Most recently he gave interviews to the American network CNN and the Philippine Daily Inquirer, but mostly he only retold his story: He had been an assassin, notching around 50 kills, in a death squad for Rodrigo Duterte when he was mayor of Davao City; after deciding to quit, he was picked up and tortured, but he managed to escape; he began to be processed for state-witness protection, but, when Duterte became president, he preferred Church to state sanctuary.

The only thing new that I noted in his retelling to the Inquirer was that Duterte actually had had 8 kills on his own, and the only common piece of detail he recalled was that all 8 had been shot while seated, helpless, execution-fashion.

In the first telling, at a senate hearing, he had spoken of only one Duterte kill he witnessed. Unlike the other 7, it had been well detailed, and that may have to do with its memorable circumstances.

The victim, by Matobato's account, was an agent of the National Bureau of Investigation who, captured wounded after shooting it out with the death squad, was finished off by Duterte.

Matobato’s testimony at the senate was cut short in October after a single appearance, on some technicality at first – supposedly he had left the hearing before he was properly dismissed – and, more determinedly later, for being an unworthy witness, the same reason that the chairman of the hearing committee, Sen. Richard Gordon, and a member, Sen. Panfilo Lacson, now gave when asked for comment on Matobato's Inquirer interview.

The “inconsistencies” in Matobato’s senate testimony “were ridiculous,” said Attorney Gordon, trying to justify his committee’s decision to stop listening to Matobato. “If I presented him as a witness, I’d be the laughingstock of the courtroom. I don’t want the senate to be the laughingstock of the nation.”

Lacson agreed that Matobato had “a serious credibility problem,” and suspected that CNN had been put onto him by his manipulators.

Actually Gordon and Lacson don’t come out very reliable themselves. At some point during the hearing Gordon was caught himself not paying attention. Beginning to rebuke Motabato for supposedly withholding a critical piece of information, he was shown the minutes of the
hearing, thus proved wrong.

And Lacson, self-importantly insisting that an office he had once headed had disappeared after him to show Matobato mistaken to have found himself in it, was revealed as the one in fact mistaken.

Here are two senators of the republic unable to go past a witness who appears without a counsel and tells his story without a prompter or notes – he can neither read nor write.

I would not be surprised if CNN and the Inquirer (and possibly other media organizations I fail to credit here through no default but my own) decided to revisit Matobato because they thought he had got a bad deal, not only from Gordon and Lacson and their committee, but from their entire house; the senate is a Duterte-dominated Upper House, and so is the Lower House of Congress.

Apparently the Inquirer did not ask Sen. Manny Paquiao for his own, comment; if it had done so he’d have spoken for the whole senate majority, being its designated parrot.

By its own nature, Matobato’s story is precisely the sort that bears repeating as new circumstances arise and inform it or provide a new or added context to it, thus lending it increased credibility.

President Duterte’s autocratic words and ways tend themselves to validate the character of the boss mayor Matobato has described. And the challenge Duterte brings to the rule of law by the brutal manner in which he has been pursuing his war on drugs is a running case in point; it has claimed the lives of 6,000 drug dealers and addicts and provoked suspicions of summary executions.

But no instance has been more self-incriminating, and jolting, than Duterte’s admission that, indeed, he has himself killed 3 people.

Five more kills, and that would exactly match the score Matobato kept. – Rappler.com

For Justice Secretary Vitaliano Aguirre II, the Anti-Money Laundering Council (AMLC) has been a prickly thorn in his side. Last year, Aguirre lashed out at them for not sharing financial information on supposed drug lords.

President Duterte took the cudgels for Aguirre and threatened the AMLC officials. “Until now, there's no report of this AMLA (sic)," Duterte said in December but he was not specific about the “report” he was referring to. (AMLA stands for the Anti-Money Laundering Act.)

“I'm going to charge all of you there, criminally. I'll count one to three, and if you don't resign, I will treat you as a drug addict,” he warned severely.

This was an escalation of what Duterte said in November last year, addressing the AMLC: "Better go to the Secretary of Justice or I will go to you. I will call for you and you have to answer so many questions. You choose. Do not make it hard for us otherwise I will make it hard for you." 

Aguirre has been after the bank documents of drug traffickers detained in the New Bilibid Prison. But, as of November 2016, these had not yet reached his office. So far, lamented Aguirre, only the documents for the supposed “narco-generals” were submitted by the AMLC to the justice department.

Something is amiss here. What use is the information if the holders of these bank accounts can freely withdraw their stashed wealth? 

Duterte and Aguirre do not appreciate the potency of the AMLC and how it can cripple the drug supply by turning the financial faucets off.  

It is vital that the AMLC file cases with the Court of Appeals (CA) to freeze suspicious bank accounts. Doing the groundwork takes time and is cloaked in secrecy—and the AMLC doesn’t do this alone. It works with the Office of the Solicitor General.

In a Senate hearing, former AMLC executive director Vicente Aquino explained: "Before the AMLC can get a freeze order from the CA, it has to go to its statutory counsel from the Office of the Solicitor General before a petition to freeze is filed with the CA. By time of filing, many eyes have seen the petition.” (READ: Fast facts: AMLC)

The CA has 24 hours to act on a freeze-order case. A freeze order holds for 6 months, giving the AMLC time to probe further.

The freeze order is a “provisional remedy while we’re completing our investigation,” AMLC executive director Julia Bacay-Abad has told Rappler. “If it is established that these accounts are related to unlawful activities, then we refer the cases to the OSG which files a petition for forfeiture.”

Instead of these loud and high-profile harangues of Duterte and Aguirre versus the AMLC, demanding “documents,” it would be more productive if AMLC gets all the support in going after the financiers quietly. Surprise is a key element.

In the end, the AMLC will make an important and bloodless contribution to Duterte’s war on drugs. – Rappler.com

It’s that time of year again.  People are awash in the usual new year articles and discussions. A new year is about hope and new beginnings.

Coming from well-needed vacations, many are also coming from conversations with the self. Ensconced in families and catching up on old and new ties (so valuable in a country that has had decades of diaspora),  many are able to revalue what is important.

Then there is the relieving and sometimes successful undertaking of organizing desks and cleaning out cabinets and shelves.

And so, as part of this impetus for renewal, many make new year’s resolutions. 

Cynicism

However, for those who enjoy looking at life from behind shattered and multi-colored glasses (me! me!) there is also the flip side. It is a time also to take into our hearts those who are having a tough time this season: the depressed, the lonely, the grieving, the hungry, the poor, the oppressed. I especially sympathize with the families of more than 6,000 and more Filipinos who were killed in the ongoing drug war and who were spending their first Christmas and New Year without a father or a mother or a sibling or a child.

There is also the cynicism that comes from knowing that many of us were at the exact place of hopefulness at the start of 2016. I do not know about you, but 2016 was a very bad year for me. As far as I am concerned 2016 was annus horribilis for the Philippines and the world.

As for New Year’s resolutions, we all know that many do not succeed. As for new learnings, sometimes we grow wiser because of just making it through life. It is also in taking on the quotidian that we become wiser. This imperceptible and long process isn’t really marked by the start of one year and its end 365 days later.

Still, the cup is never truly empty. And there is virtue to having a season when we are encouraged to see it as at least on its way to being half full.

After all, some New Year’s resolutions do get fulfilled. And some take us all the way to the next week.

Resolutions

And so, without further ado, here are some of my resolutions that I believe are worthy of sharing with others.

1. Work only eight hours a day and do not work on weekends. For me this includes health behaviors like exercise and meditation. I usually enjoy exercise and mediation after a lot of self-encouragement and discipline. One gets into a rhythm. But my favorite pastime, what would really be leisure, is lying in bed and gathering wool. So I am classifying self-improvement as work. Call me self-indulgent, and I will call you a capitalist overlord.
2. Reduce social media exposure to 30 minutes in the morning and 30 minutes in the evening. I have noticed that social media is full of hateful and stupid people who don’t go to pro-Marcos rallies despite their avowed love for that family.  Also I like interacting with real people, not fake accounts and bots. I could write a whole different article on that cesspool called social media. But I will just add that I am in danger of losing the ability of formulating a simple grammatical statement because of too much exposure.
3. Refuse to say,  “I told you so.” On election day last year, I wrote an article about the incoming Duterte administration. I predicted 9 outcomes, 6 of which have come to pass. The other 3 may still happen. I got trolled for making those predictions. “Give him a chance.” “He has just started.” “We need unity.” “Yellow tard.” Yadda, yadda, yadda. Six out of 9, baby! I told you... oops!
4. Do my bit to expose fake news articles and sites. This is what I will prioritize in my limited social media time. Ensure that those fake statements from dubious sources, like the Department of Justice or the President’s spokesperson, will be shown up for the lying idiocy that is contained there. Repost real news instead.
5. Never take the President’s pronouncements seriously unless he is threatening to kill addicts. (And maybe a little bit about liking China and Russia.) No, truly. They almost always spin it or take it back. And it is not good for one’s mental health to allow oneself to be gaslighted.
6. Refuse to close my eyes to the ongoing extrajudicial killings. Denounce it at every turn. Refuse to justify it. Call out those who are peddling the lie that this is somehow a form of justice and human rights protection for the victims of drug crimes. Refuse to accept that progress, any progress, is worth this price.
7. Help to stop the polarization in the country by engaging and encouraging in respectful and sincere exchanges of opinion. Stomp on any trolls that say I should engage them as a form of being respectful. It should be self-evident that cursing, personal attacks and repeating the same tired argument over and over isn’t respectful. It should be self-evident that engaging so you can get paid for every comment isn’t respectful. It should be self-evident that muddying the waters of that crucial tool for democracy and progress, the free exchange of ideas, makes trolls scum. If I close my mind and heart to those who sincerely disagree with me, however, it is a step toward the hard-heartedness that can minimize and rationalize and trade-off on extrajudicial killings. If I allow the trolls to polarize it falls with the agenda of those who are moving toward authoritarianism and fascism by riling up people’s prejudices and hatreds.
8. Believe that this madness will come to an end. That the killings will eventually stop. That the rule of law will return. And that all those who have despoiled themselves by participating in the lies and the murders will be called to account.

Happy New Year, y’all. – Rappler.com

Often, if feels like President Duterte and his most fervent supporters like Mocha Uson are playing a political game that his critics are still trying to figure out.

It's as if the former are playing some kind of Virtual Reality video game while the latter are still stuck with a crude version of Donkey-Kong.

Duterte with his late night rambling speeches laced with jokes and obscenities, comes across as Dionysian, a kind of trickster figure running circles (with the aid of Mocha’s dancers) around his more Appolonian liberal critics. 

His critics think they’re staking the high moral ground, drawing on historical precedent and laying out the legal basis for their opposition, while Duterte and company deploy tactics that are as extra-legal as they are amoral while flaunting the lessons of history (hence the embrace of Marcos and the constant flirtation with martial law).

Liberal opponents are concerned with recovering classical notions of truth (that is, truth as the unveiling of and correspondence with reality; facts as objective and settled representations of truth). Mocha and her troops, however, treat truth and lies as mutually constitutive rather than opposed, turning both into instruments with which to pursue an endless war. Her detractors are outraged at fake news and trolls. But Duterte’s supporters embrace these as tools to further their cause. 

While the mainstream media seeks to set the record straight on the President’s words and deeds, the DDS media are intent on protecting the President from his detractors by any means necessary, usually resorting to ad hominem attacks, gossip and innuendo.

Witness, for example, the game between Senator De Lima and Secretary of Justice Aguirre and Duterte’s allies in Congress. Whereas the latter sought to defend herself by getting at the facts of the case against her, the latter were far more intent on destroying her reputation in order to silence her criticism of the President. Guess who won that game, at least for now?   

His more liberal critics call for tolerance, fairness and open debate, which his followers see as signs of "elitist" decadence and naiveté. The former continue to be invested in conventional notions of education and proper behavior, while the latter dismiss such ideas, setting up new techniques to educate their followers and cultivate new norms of conduct that claim to be more "democratic." Memes replace critical education and trolling substitutes for debate. 

The ongoing phenomenon of extrajudicial killings of suspected drug dealers and users is perhaps the most important issue that separates critics from supporters.

The former regard the nightly executions as gross violations of human rights and clear evidence of the coming specter of a police state. The latter, on the other hand, see such killings as stern measures needed to assure peace.

For this reason, they are scornful of the discourse on human rights as figments of the imperialist imagination designed to repress national sovereignty. They insist, instead, on a notion of selective rather than universal rights. 

Tactics vs principles

In this way, Duterte supporters are still in campaign mode. They are all about tactics.

His opponents, however, like to think that they are wedded to principles. Hence, while the latter endlessly worry about the ethical link between means and ends, the former have thoroughly instrumentalized ethics as a means to accomplish a singular end.

Whenever his critics go left, Duterte goes right, only to suddenly swerve left, forcing his opponents to the right. And when liberals try to stake the middle, they find that position to have been taken away, leaving them out of balance and out of sync.

See for example the political vertigo triggered by Duterte's geo-political moves, attacking the US while befriending China and Russia. Similarly, his release of political prisoners and peace talks with the communist party has its evil twin in the unleashing of the police on poor communities.

He is the self-proclaimed socialist who has a Cabinet full of neo-liberals, lauded by both the lefties at UP and by the tycoons from Makati. He is the drug abuser who is the scourge of drug addicts, the serial womanizer who claims to be for women’s rights.

Inconsistency vs authenticity

His critics deride Duterte's inconsistencies: the yawning gap between pronouncements and policies, the steady seizure of power and use of conspiracy theories to quash dissent. But his followers regard the same inconsistencies as proof of his authenticity.

They use his off-the-cuff remarks about women, about his own drug use, about killing others, etc. as ways of poking fun at what they regard as the sanctimonious posturing of the "elite." They spawn conspiracy theories, nurturing rumors of coup plots hatched among wealthy Filipino Americans conspiring with the Vice President, using these as tools for eviscerating the opposition while muting serious debate.

Both Duterte and Mocha are adept at making virtues out of vices, repurposing mendacity into candidness, criticism into conspiracy. They excel in converting sinful pasts into narratives of redemption, thereby outmaneuvering the Church and civil society alike.

Indeed, this regime has sought to erase the difference between the state and civil society, making one into the extension of the other. 

Thus do critics of Duterte find themselves faced with, for want of a better term, a post-modern authoritarian populism that hits them on all sides: from above, from below, from the left, from the right, from the front, and from the back.

It is a style of rule that presents itself as insurgent and counter-insurgent at the same time, or better yet, that uses an insurgent art to push a counter-insurgent agenda (shades of Trump!). 

Unable to fully discern the rules of the game, it is small wonder that critics of Duterte are consistently outflanked and disorganized, further emboldening the likes of Mocha and other supporters. But for how long? That remains to be seen. – Rappler.com

Vicente L. Rafael teaches history at the University of Washington. 

Consider this a work of speculative fiction.

It is 2032, ten years after Rodrigo Roa Duterte successfully ended his term as president, and with it, the lives of the estimated 4-5 million "drug personalities" in the Philippines, plus change. A Marcos or two may have succeeded him as head of state. Maybe not. But somehow, conditions have made it so that the Sovereign People of the Philippines are calling out for "transitional justice and reconciliation," a term first bandied about in the wake of Martial Law, and later popularized as part of the convoluted Bangsamoro peace process.

The United Nations—Tatay Digong’s favorite international body—defines transitional justice as the "full range of processes and mechanisms associated with a society’s attempt to come to terms with a legacy of large-scale abuses committed in the past, in order to achieve accountability, serve justice, and achieve reconciliation." The word "abuses" remains hotly contested, of course, triggering accusations of bias and various political colorings and retardations from all sides. But on a more concrete level, it asks two questions. First, what makes people deeply hurt and angry? And second, what will it take to address that hurt and anger?

These questions become relevant because despite overwhelming popular approval, particularly from men and the working class; despite plummeting crime rates and rising murder rates; not to mention then-Justice Secretary Vitaliano Aguirre II’s assertion that the President could not be charged in the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity because "criminals are not humanity,"—by 2032 it reaches a point that the droves of dead and orphaned could no longer be ignored.

'Tokhang' bodycount

By January 2017, barely six months after the start of the Duterte Administration, the PNP’s Anti-Illegal Drugs Campaign Plan Oplan Double Barrel and its components of "Tokhang" (Bisaya shorthand for toktok-hangyo, or ‘knock-and-plead’) and "Project HVT/LVT" (high-value targets/low-value targets) bore fruit of over six thousand deaths, a number that grew with the waxing and waning of the moons.

Arguably, extrajudicial killings and other human rights violations were not limited to the Duterte Administration, having been a regular occurrence since Martial Law and even after the nominal restoration of democracy in 1986. But the time they were done, the Tokhang bodycount was numerically comparable (by the President’s own estimation) to the Holocaust of six million Jews. It far outstripped the Khmer Rouge’s genocide of 1.7 to 2.5 million, Rwanda’s 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus, not to mention the estimated 3,240 deaths under the Marcos dictatorship (not counting the casualties of the war in Mindanao), and the paltry seventy-five-thousand-odd that claimed reparations under the beleaguered Martial Law Human Rights Victims Claims Board.

And then there were orphans. Young men and women now, some roving in packs, some turning to criminality and drugs, others far worse. Of course, there were never any official admissions of criminal culpability from the Philippine Government (save for the President’s sporadic televised statements of throwing criminals off helicopters and such), but it was enough. If one digs into the archives, one could recall the early gestures.

As early as December 2016, then-Philippine National Police chief Ronald "Bato" dela Rosa wore a cheap Santa suit and gave out toys to a crowd children whose parents were killed in the name of or surrendered to President Duterte’s ongoing war on drugs. After handing out plastic police cars and stuffed animals in a supermall in Ortigas, De la Rosa was interviewed saying, "Since most of these children ay namatayan ng parents, ng father dahil sa ating ongoing war on drugs, we want to compensate this loss, their sadness with somehow little feeling of happiness…" Similarly, then-Senator Panfilo ‘Ping’ Lacson, former PNP director-general and no stranger to extrajudicial killing allegations himself, also called on President Duterte to compensate the orphans of the drug war by providing burial assistance and scholarships.

It took more than ten years and not a few vengeance killings, maimings, and bombings after Tatay Digong for people to widely admit (and not retract) that maybe, they were in the wrong, and maybe, some healing was truly in order.

Angry orphans

By this time, the 140-million citizens of the Philippines are haunted by a generation of angry, wounded children whose formative images were of their fathers, mothers, siblings being gunned down by police operatives or bonnet-clad "riding-in-tandem" motorcycle vigilantes, their death shrouds nothing more than packing tape and a piece of cardboard proclaiming their status as drug pushers or users, and therefore, expendable. Collateral damage.

At first they were poor, and therefore invisible and silent. And then even the middle class started to bleed…

So given those conditions, what could a transitional justice program for Tokhang victims, particularly for orphaned children and youth, possibly look like?

Alternatively formulated as dealing with the past or "restorative justice,’ the concept of transitional justice and reconciliation is built on the premise that the State has a responsibility to provide redress to victims of past abuse in accordance with legal obligations under international human rights law and international humanitarian law.

Its origins root in the post-WWII Nuremberg Trials that prosecuted Nazi and Japanese soldiers; the trials of military juntas in Argentina and Greece in the 1970s and 80s; and the democratisation processes of the 90s. The most popular mechanisms include the post-apartheid truth commission in South Africa, and reparations programs for indigenous peoples in Canada and Australia. Indigenous forms of restorative justice exist: blood payments, rituals, peace pacts, particularly for warring between tribes and clans. However, Western constructs of transitional justice and reconciliation become relevant due to the sins of an equally Western construct: the modern Nation-State.

While transitional justice has been traditionally associated with the investigation of human rights violations after authoritarian regimes or in the "post-conflict" environment after the signing of a peace agreement, its power lies in the radical political and economic transformations that are possible in moments of instability and flux. Changes that, if done right, can promote social integration and trust, strengthen institutions, and enable the participation of citizens who have been excluded and marginalized.

Dealing with wounds of the past

Thus, despite Duterte loyalists’ stance that the ICC and the United Nations have no jurisdiction over domestic affairs of the Philippines—and why didn’t they investigate the Americans over Iraq, those fucking hypocrites—healing the wounds of the drug war could not help but be a domestic priority in the year 2032. Not with 5% of the population killed by the State, at least 20-30% directly or indirectly affected, as victims or as perpetrators. The final kill lists showed that the majority of those executed were poor, working-class. High-profile drug lords mostly walked, scot-free.

International experience suggests that any serious transitional justice effort should be dealt with in a holistic manner and constructed around four inseparable rights:

• the right to know, entailing the establishment of facts and an accurate historical record;
• the right to justice, where culpable individuals are investigated, judged and sanctioned in a judicial process by a competent tribunal;
• the right to reparations, whether through financial or non-pecuniary compensation ; and
• the right to non-repetition.

The assumption being that those affected do have rights, and these programs do not mean that peoples’ forgiveness is being bought off. As if they ever could. Reconciliation is not a substitute for justice, as the revenge killings done with little more than icepicks and barbecue sticks would attest. No such thing as forgiving and forgetting. To do transitional justice means to deal with the wounds of the past and its ramifications on the present, to ensure that communities and families can begin to move towards building a viable future.

Operationally, this means:

• Information. Securing basic, comprehensive, accurate and unbiased information on the numbers of people killed, widowed, orphaned, injured, disabled, abducted, disappeared under Tokhang and related policies, including those who suffered the stigma of being put on community drug lists and being forced to ‘surrender’. Engaging families and groups that survived similar pain and experiences, and treating them with dignity and respect. This can be done through truth commissions, studies, reports—not only on the killings, but on the relative advantage and pitfalls of policies and programs related to drug trafficking and abuse. Ensuring that this information can never be forgotten or erased through the setup of archives and continuous communications and education efforts.
• Acknowledgment. Publicly and formally acknowledging the pain and suffering caused to victims and their families, though public apologies/statements, monuments, symbolic acts. Not dismissing peoples’ humanity or saying "joke only." Similar to what has been done globally, there must be admission that the war on drugs has harmed more children and families than it has helped, and therefore institutions and policymakers have a deep moral responsibility to help the communities ravaged by the killings.
• Reparations. Securing resources to provide appropriate forms of reparations depending on type of loss and trauma incurred, but focusing particularly on vulnerable children, widows, and elderly. Options include direct cash payments, scholarship programs, income generation, employment or sustainable livelihood schemes, and appropriate forms of compensation for the few cases of property rights violations, especially towards the bloody end, when more than a few things burned down. Reimbursing for the high costs of embalming and burial that less-than-solvent families had to pay for, their loved ones’ corpses held hostage. There is no lack of formula. After all, the Philippines’ various ethnolinguistic groups all have their own traditional forms of reparation–blood money, diyya, rituals, peace pacts–social forms that soothe both the gods and the rage simmering in peoples’ chests when their loved ones get shot in cold blood. At the end of the day, however, the final design of reparations schemes must be tailored to victims’ needs and expectations, and appropriate resources must be secured. The experience of the implementation of RA 10368 or the Human Rights Victims Reparations Act of 2013 is a benchmark for both what to do and what not to do. Was the point system—which gave the full ten points to victims who died or who disappeared and are still missing, six to nine points for those tortured and/or raped or sexually abused, and so forth—appropriate? Was the 10 billion budget secured by the Presidential Commission on Good Governance from the Marcosian ill-gotten wealth quite enough? As the discourse evolves to the legalization of marijuana, models for possible study include California’s Equity Permit Program, which acknowledged that black impoverished citizens had been disproportionally punished, and therefore allocated half of its medical dispensary permits to people who have served time for marijuana violations in the last ten years, or lived in zones with a high number of arrests for marijuana possession. Small comforts, but a powerful economic and political signal.
• Policy reform. Dealing with the structural problems associated with the war on drugs, and putting in policies and programs that will ensure that the killings never happen again. This can include investing in drug rehabilitation facilities, medical assistance and counselling. Studies on decriminalisation of soft drugs such as marijuana. Targeted economic, health, and psycho-social programs addressing the socially-excluded that make up the bulk of Tokhang’s dead. Security sector reform. Addressing impunity, and the rampant use of extrajudicial measures against drugs and criminality that encourage rather than deter violence. Locking in a strong implementation and monitoring setup and enough technical and financial resources to carry out comprehensive programs that are gender-sensitive and inclusive in nature, covering both State and non-State actors.
• Education and memorialization. The large-scale release of reports, films, radio programs, public art, and other knowledge and education products in local/regional languages.
• Building cases against the direct killers and those responsible for ordering the deaths of the victims, through prosecutions or criminal trials. The body responsible for doing this should be empowered to conduct public hearings and possess the full power of subpoena to secure testimony and documentary evidence, as well as the ability to protect the identity of witnesses. Although Tatay Digong spoke of granting amnesty to policemen and others involved in the summary executions (‘Shoot him and I’ll give you a medal’), no blanket amnesty was granted (surprise!), the growing prevalence of revenge crimes make these judicial process necessary, especially as Tokhang’s children grow older and more vengeful.

Ad nauseam.

One might argue that thinking of transitional justice in a post-truth world is nothing but a pipe dream, as the Philippines has had its own share of attempts. There were two separate presidential commissions created after the Martial Law era, one to pursue accountability for large-scale corruption (tracking down x billion in ill-gotten wealth across x countries), and another to pursue accountability for human rights).

The younger Aquino attempted to create another two: one to investigate corruption under Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court) and a Transitional Justice and Reconciliation Commission created under the Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro signed with the Moro Islamic Liberation Front. One could argue that these institutions were largely top-down, technocratic, and did not fully capitalize on existing cultural models and mechanisms despite their best efforts, and so had limited traction on the ground. Perhaps the right approach has yet to be found.

Nevertheless, there must be spaces for dealing with crimes and wounds that are not writ in the language of violence (as in putang ina obosen na ang mga hinayupak na yan, hinayupak being either the State, or the killers, or the original drug addicts and pushers themselves, as you choose) but instead, can give a chance for something a little more fair. The experience of multiple countries highlights how there is no such thing as "post-conflict"—only "post-violent" or "post-traumatic."

In that sense, we hapless mortals are bound to enter into more cycles of conflict and violence and trauma until the sun winks out. But for as long as society sees value in acknowledging the worth of a life, and the pain and suffering of families and communities when such lives are snuffed out, regardless of socio-economic status, drug use history, or creed, then perhaps there is space for things as transitional justice. – Rappler.com

Maria Carmen "Ica" Fernandez belongs to the 2015-2016 batch of British Chevening scholars in the Philippines. She has an MPhil in Planning, Growth and Regeneration from Cambridge University. She studied transitional justice in the Philippines for her dissertation. 

 Later this month, the government and the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP) enter their third round of talks under the Duterte administration. Foremost in the agenda is the second substantive agreement - the Comprehensive Agreement on Social and Economic Reforms (CASER).

NDFP Peace Panel chairperson Fidel Agcaoli has labeled this the “crux” of the peace process. Indeed, the resolution of the age-old problems of chronic poverty, gross inequality and underdevelopment is at the heart of the 48 year old communist-led revolution. An agreement that addresses these issues will be the agreement that will shape all past and future agreements. It will be the key to resolving the armed conflict.

In this round, the burden of proposing alternative solutions to the country’s myriad of social and economic problems falls on the NDFP. They are, after all, the ones who have been fighting for radical socio-economic reforms to the extent of taking up arms against the government. More than providing a critique of past and existing economic policies, the NDFP is  expected to present a set of concrete and doable policy reforms that will lead not just to a prosperous but a just economic system for the country.

NDFP’s robust proposal

A peek at the NDFP’s draft agreement certainly points to this effort. It is a truly comprehensive document, 84 pages long and counting, covering practically all aspects of the economy. It is composed of a preamble and six main parts, the most substantial being Part III on “Developing the National Economy,” Part IV on “Upholding the People’s Rights,” and Part V on “Economic Sovereignty for National Development.” 

The document paints a stark assessment of the current socio-economic situation, traces the worsening problems of underdevelopment, mass poverty and social inequity to the neoliberal economic framework of the last three and a half decades, and proposes a radically different, nationalist and socialistic model of development to be jointly pursued by both sides.

Among the key reforms proposed by the NDFP are: 

1. An agrarian reform and rural development program premised on the free distribution of land, cooperativisation, farm mechanization and the development of agriculture-based rural industries;
2. A Filipino-first industrialization program based on agriculture but directed towards the building of heavy industries, with light industries as the bridge. The program includes provisions on nationalizing strategic industries, integrating regional and sectoral development, developing local industrial science and technology, development financing, and even the participation of the New People’s Army (NPA) and mass organizations in industrial development.
3. An environmental protection policy that heavily restricts large-scale mining and marine wealth extraction, prohibits the exports of logs, bans the patenting of life, and ensures the wide participation of local communities in ecological protection and management.
4. A comprehensive and rigorous policy of protection for the social and economic rights of the working people and other vulnerable sectors, namely: peasants, farmworkers, fisherfolk, workers and semi-workers, professionals, OFWs, women, LGBTs, children, the elderly and persons with disabilities. Also included are guarantees for the public’s right to basic services and utilities like social services, education, health, housing, water, energy, mass transport, communications, waste management and disaster preparedness and response.
5. Policies to promote Filipino culture, including the promotion of the arts and literature, advancing the rights of educators, media practitioners, artists and cultural workers.
6. Greater guarantees for the rights of the national minorities to their land and culture, including the right to self-determination, economic development and non-discrimination.
7. A whole set of policy reforms on trade and investments as well as on finance, monetary and fiscal policy aimed at ending the country’s colonial trade relations and establishing a relatively independent and self-reliant economy. This includes rejecting harmful neoliberal economic policies imposed by the International Monetary Fund (IMF), World Bank (WB) and World Trade Organization (WTO) and establishing better ties with neighboring countries in East Asia as well as the BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) countries. 

The robust proposal from the NDFP actually adopts a number of proposals from the National People’s Summit held in June 2016 that presented a 15-point “People’s Agenda for Change” to both the GRP and the NDFP.

Sure to applaud the NDFP’s proposal are the marginalized and impoverished classes and sectors in Philippine society who stand to gain from such sweeping policy changes. Expected to vehemently oppose are those tied to oligarchic and foreign interests who have much to loose in terms of economic and political clout.

The GRP’s desired outcomes

In contrast, the GRP has proposed a generalized set of “Desired Outcomes” to include the following: 

1. Rural equality and development to achieve food self-sufficiency and security;
2. A sovereign, self-reliant and industrialized national economy;
3. Protected and rehabilitated environment, just compensation for affected populations, and sustainable development;
4. Social, economic and cultural rights of the working people upheld and discrimination eliminated;
5. Sustainable living for all;
6. Affordable, accessible and quality social services and utilities;
7. Sovereign foreign economic policies and trade relations supporting rural development and national industrialization; and
8. Monetary and fiscal policy regime for national development.

No details were given as to how the desired outcomes would be achieved. These could very well have been lifted from any policy paper churned out by the neoliberal-oriented technocrats in the National Economic and Development Authority (NEDA) or undergraduate students in the UP School of Economics.

The great debate

In the last round of talks last October, both panels were able to come up with a common outline for CASER which basically merged the outline of the NDFP’s draft agreement with the GRP’s list of desired outcomes (see Annex A of the October 9, 2016 GRP-NDFP Joint Statement). But there is much work to be done and acrimonious debates are expected before a final agreement is forged, hopefully within the year. Even as the talks progress, both sides are expected to continue consulting with stakeholders to further refine their proposals at the same time generate public support for their positions.

The government side will, of course, insist that there is nothing inherently wrong in its existing social and economic policies and that problems of poverty, inequality and underdevelopment can be solved by simply implementing current neoliberal, market-oriented policies at a faster and more efficient manner. The government’s official response to any challenge to its economic dogma is to say that on the contrary, we liberalized our economy too little and too late. 

Just like previous governments, the Duterte administration aims to further open up the economy to foreign trade and investments, privatize public assets and utilities, and remove all constraints on private businesses. In other words, allow private (ideally foreign) capital to rule and relegate government's role to keeping the peace, ensuring the rule of law, and providing safety nets for the poor.

The NDFP, on the other hand, rejects neoliberalism, repeatedly points out its failures even in advanced capitalist countries, and offers a diametrically opposed framework for development. It will insist on developing local, Filipino-owned industries, massive public spending for development, greater government control over the economy, and comprehensive programs for wealth redistribution and social welfare.

The GRP will probably concede on some items – like increasing wages, ending contractualization or lowering income taxes. But they will resist key proposals on limiting foreign investments, the nationalization of key sectors, genuine agrarian reform and the re-establishment of state-run enterprises and utilities.

Many may not be aware of it, but what is at stake in the peace talks is the economic future of the country. The implications of CASER will be felt not only by constituents of the NDFP but by all Filipinos. – Rappler.com

Teddy Casiño served as the partylist representative of Bayan Muna for 3 terms, from 2004-2013. Prior to his stint in Congress, he was secretary-general of the Bagong Alyansang Makabayan and was a columnist for BusinessWorld. He earned his degree in sociology from the University of the Philippines at Los Baños in 1993.

Shortly after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship, the nation’s leaders embarked on a reform that would reverse the over-centralization of power and finance. Launched in 1991, the Local Government Code reflected the country’s collective aspirations towards greater decentralization. 

Decentralization was expected to bring government closer to the people by empowering local government units to respond to the needs of citizens, with policies and interventions that best fit their local conditions. It would recognize the country’s diversity in socio-economic and development contexts; and more importantly, it was seen as part of a grand effort to unshackle development in the countryside. It would finally allow local governments – their leaders and citizens – to chart and execute much of their development policies.

Spending, taxing and borrowing powers among other functions were to be devolved to LGUs; and their challenge would be to match resources with spending priorities. They would be incentivized to grow these resources over time to be able to match the growing ambition of their citizens. Many saw this as the key to stronger governance and accountability. It would end the fiscal dependence (and political vulnerability to) Manila-based politics. 

Imperial Manila

Fast-forward to today, over 2 decades later, our malfunctioning democracy continues to reflect weaknesses in both the center and the periphery. 

“Imperial Manila” continues to dominate over the economic and political affairs of local governments. Among the main complaints are that imperial Manila benefits disproportionately from both public and private sector spending and investments; that it controls public spending allocations to LGUs; and that it also passes on unfunded mandates to local government units (LGUs), further shrinking their elbow room to finance and craft their homegrown development strategies. 

Why did Manila remain imperial? There are many factors, but one fundamental one is that the Philippine Presidency remains a “winner-take-all” contest that hands over the country’s still largely centralized public finances to Malacanang’s occupant. Roughly 80% of tax revenues are collected by central government agencies – and about the same share in terms of public spending is allocated through central government budget processes. 

In large measure, this concentration of authority over public finance and the subsequent inequality in economic development outcomes has fueled the view regarding “imperial Manila.” Regardless of whether the government is reformist or predatory, federalist proponents contend that this over-concentration of fiscal power breeds bad center-periphery politics, and it also undermines the spirit of decentralized political power in the country. 

Dynastic periphery

On the other hand, the Philippines’ geographic periphery – supposedly the antithesis of imperial Manila – also faces intense governance challenges. Political dynasties dominate local politics. When expressed as a share of total local government leadership, the latest calculations suggest that dynasties are expanding at an average of about 4 percentage points per election. At this pace, dynasties may comprise almost 70 percent of all total local government leadership by around 2040. 

Some people still ask: what’s wrong if all our leaders come from a small number of powerful families? 

Based on the evidence, dynastic expansion is linked with weaker political competition, deeper poverty and much lower human development outcomes. Recent studies also emphasize how dynastic leadership patterns are associated with distortions in public finance – curbing local public finance allocations in favor of family ties rather than economic development and poverty reduction objectives. This is one of the factors that blunt the development impact of what the country spends for the poor. 

Thus the present system is characterized by a perverse center-periphery relationship. The periphery depends heavily on the central government for resources, while showing very mixed results on the implementation of policies and laws. On the other hand, the central government fails to support decentralization, and often ends up consolidating power by maintaining control over public resource allocations. For the corrupt, control over public funds is seen as a prize – to be won after every election, generating rent-seeking opportunities for cronies and family members who benefit from government projects.

In the end “imperial Manila” and the dynastic periphery are often found in collusion – witness how each and every post-EDSA President has been accompanied by a pliant Congress. Many members of Congress often switch parties to ally themselves with the newly elected leader holding the purse strings. Even the many decent leaders who genuinely fight for their constituents’ welfare have no choice but to align themselves, if only for the good of their constituents and their own political survival.

This situation has not produced stronger accountability and fiscal autonomy despite well over 25 years of decentralization in the country. While a variety of factors come into play, there is little doubt that malfunctioning public finance was one of the key reasons behind what ails decentralization in the Philippines. 

And since decentralization was supposed to figure prominently as the basis of post-EDSA politics and economic development policy, it is no wonder that the country failed to realize the promise of EDSA both politically and economically. 

Preconditions for success

One way to view the present federalism initiative is that it allows the country to press the “reset button” once again – similar to the effort after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship in 1986. Here there are different views on the expected benefits and risks.

On the one hand there are those who point out that the country is essentially “federal” in structure already – we only fail to implement our laws and policies effectively. As noted by Dr Paul Hutchcroft of Australia National University: “If I had 100 pesos for every time a Filipino said that it’s not the policy design but the policy implementation that’s the problem, I would already be a billionaire.”

Some also emphasize that the risks of unintended consequences are great if the country appears unprepared to take on the herculean task of restructuring public sector governance and finance under a new political structure. (Let’s not call this structure necessarily “federal” because as noted earlier, some believe we already are. The point here is that there are different forms of federalism, and we might embark on an entirely new one, entailing many more reforms and considerable cost.)

On the other hand, there are those who believe federalism could address some of the key malfunctions that plagued our democracy since EDSA (and perhaps even prior to it). Being a former politician from the periphery, President Duterte could open the door to dismantling the central government’s excessive control over much of our public finance. This is the same control that causes many dynasties and oligarchs to try and influence leadership selection in the country so they could benefit from the largesse of public investments. Somehow disciplining or mitigating this control should create an opening for genuine decentralization to take root – even as many other reforms will be necessary to make sure unintended consequences are minimized. 

With great power comes great responsibility

Ceding some fiscal control from imperial Manila could result in better outcomes if reformists are empowered in the countryside rather than warlords and traditional elites. Alex Lacson, one of our country’s young leaders points out: “After the fall of the dictator in 1986, he was replaced by many mini-dictators.” Hence, with great power transfer should come greater accountability as well. 

Such a grand bargain on reforms should probably include longstanding political and economic reforms that could put the country on a path away from political and economic inequality – including political reforms that help build stronger political parties and regulations on anti-competitive dynastic politics; as well as economic reforms that open the country to stronger domestic and foreign investments. 

Ideally, these accompanying conditions for more effective decentralization should have been put in place already. The challenge was the apparent lack of political will to overcome vested interests and introduce reforms that would be good for the vast majority of Filipinos (and future generations). It is now arguable whether the influence of these vested interests were somehow mitigated by marginal reforms in the past few decades. Many citizens and leaders seem to think that marginal reforms on the existing framework have not been and will not be enough. 

There is no silver bullet

Thus the answer to the question posed in the beginning of this article is: “Federalism is no silver bullet – but it can make a big difference if done right.” 

The results will largely depend on how many deep governance reforms will be incorporated into the federalist initiative. The very same reforms that should have been introduced to strengthen decentralization in the country since the EDSA revolution in 1986. 

Much of this should probably focus on building stronger meritocracy and accountability in leadership selection, as well as unleashing the full potential of the countryside through more inclusive public investments and dramatically increased foreign and domestic private investments. Federalism is actually not a necessary component for these reforms—but, politically, federalism appears to be the feasible vehicle for pushing them.

If federalism is to bring fundamental change, then the dynasties and the oligarchs should face greater competition. Otherwise, simply changing the rules while preserving the same small set of players will probably not fundamentally change the political game between the center and the periphery. Our citizens will continue to be caught in between unless this perverse co-dependency is ended. – Rappler.com

The author is Dean of the Ateneo School of Government. The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of the Ateneo de Manila University. This article draws from the study: Mendoza, R.U. and J.Ocampo, “Caught between Imperial Manila and the Provincial Dynasties: Towards a New Fiscal Federalism”.