Duterte has no qualms that his war on drugs is bloody. He is even proud of it. But when his war kills innocent lives, his administration and supporters have a ready excuse: collateral damage.

The case of Kian Loyd delos Santos is only the latest in a series of official dismissals.  

"Collateral damage" is a euphemism. Any student of ethics would easily recognize this. In any war, the military uses the term to refer to unintended human casualties. Its usefulness thus lies in softening the psychological impact of any war's atrocities on the military, the government, and the wider public.

The idea is useful but it is dehumanizing. By calling these cases collateral damage, innocent lives are transposed into insignificant and heartless statistical data.

Spilled blood, in a manner of speaking, is just a miscalculation.

The bigger problem

The problem though with euphemisms is that they conceal a lot more problems.

First, to frame the death of innocent lives as collateral damage deflects the moral culpability of the administration. Forget the fact that Duterte has in many ways called for the death of every drug user in the country. Forget the fact that the president has thrown his weight behind the police. He has even allowed them to do whatever it takes to eradicate drug addiction: "If he has no gun, give him a gun." 

By invoking collateral damage, the administration cannot be held responsible for the excesses of the police force. 

The euphemism in this light is an essential part of a bigger script. Think about it: Calling the entire effort as a war already preempts the possibility of these unintended consequences. Wars, of course, have collateral damage. 

Second, invoking collateral damage lends itself to the mindset that it is a necessary evil. The killing of innocent lives serves a bigger purpose for the public. On social media, defenders of the war on drugs chant like a well-rehearsed army. They repeatedly point us back to the victims of illegal drug users.

This too is a sleight of hand. It creates a false dichotomy that we either accept the collateral damage or allow illegal drugs to continue destroying the country. Lives must be sacrificed, as it were, on the altar of national cleansing.

In this sense, its defenders are celebrating too the imagined successes of the war on drugs.  

Not just a euphemism

My view is that calling the death of innocent lives as collateral damage is not just an exercise in euphemistic speech writing. It is fundamentally a morally deprived take on murder.

It not only softens the moral impact of the war on drugs that already enjoys massive public support in the first place. It rids the war of any moral obligation to set things right the right way. The euphemism parallels the systematic attack on human rights activists as people who, in Duterte's view, are getting in his way.

Has he not also called for the shooting of these activists? I dread the day when the killing of human rights activists becomes collateral damage too.   

To frame the death of so many young people in terms of collateral damage cannot be a matter of statistical recording that pits losses against gains. This, unfortunately, has become the moral calculus of this administration.

In the final analysis, the collateral damage is not just the loss of one innocent life.

For every life lost is a constellation of dreams forever gone. And a lifetime, no matter how long, can never be enough to count those dreams.

Kian dreamt of becoming a policeman.

But alas, Duterte's devotees keep applauding. They even keep laughing. – Rappler.com

Jayeel Serrano Cornelio, PhD (https://ateneo.academia.edu/JayeelCornelio) is the Director of the Development Studies Program, Ateneo de Manila University.  The National Academy of Science and Technology has named him one of the 2017 Outstanding Young Scientists of the country.  Twitter: @jayeel_cornelio 

The night before her confirmation hearing at the Senate, I prayed hard that Manay Judy Taguiwalo, as she is popularly known, will be confirmed as Social Welfare Secretary by the Commission on Appointments (CA) . That is why it felt like a hard punch in the gut when it was announced that she was rejected by the powerfull body. 

I cried that night. The following day, when I reported for work, sadness pervaded the air. We, Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) employees asked each other: “Why did they reject her? What are their reasons? What will happen now?” (READ: DSWD employees 'confirm' Taguiwalo after CA rejection)

As an advocate lobbying for amendments to Republic Act 8972 or the Solo Parents Welfare Act of 2000 and as an employee at the central office, I felt I had a personal stake in her confirmation. In the history of the department where I have been working since 2003, no other secretary has given solo parents a hundred percent support and recognition as Manay Judy did. I remembered the day I first met and spoke with her. “Ikaw pala ang leader ng mga solo parents dito sa department (So you are the leader of solo parents here in the department," she said. I admitted being nervous at first, not knowing what to expect from her. (READ: The challenges and triumphs of single moms)

My anxiety quickly faded as Manay Judy led the department and supported the advocacy in so many ways. 

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Going out in the streets

Because of Manay Judy, I was inspired to do things I have never done before. This included going out in the streets to join other activist groups in making our voices heard by the legislators and authorities.

“Kailangang dalhin ang laban sa lansangan, hindi ninyo makakamit ang tagumpay kung nandito lang kayo sa opisina. Kailangang marinig ang inyong mga tinig," she would tell us. 

(You must bring your fight to the streets. You cannot achieve success if you just stay here in your office. Your voices need to be heard)

I did this for the first time, together with my co-officers and members of the Federation of Solo Parents Luzvimin-United Solo Parents of the Philippines (FSPL-USPP) and DSWD CO-SPEO, on August 31, 2016 when we showed our support to Gabriela Women’s Party and the Makabayan Bloc in the House of Representatives as they filed House Bill 3398 seeking to amend RA 8972.

It was a giddy feeling to go out of our offices and march in the streets, bearing our placards and streamers. Afterwards, we spoke before dozens of solo parents and our supporters.

That unity walk and rally marked the first of the advocacy activities we conducted as a federation to lobby for the immediate passage of the amendments.

In just a year since FSPL-USPP was organized in April 2016, we had launched several initiatives in coordination with other organizations like Gabriela, Ilaw, Social Welfare Employees Association of the Philippines (SWEAP), and COURAGE. With Manay Judy at the helm, the DSWD fully supported all of our advocacy activities.

I quickly learned the language of activists: "Pagsama sa malawakang kilos protesta, at pakikibaka para sa ating karapatan." (Joining massive protest actions and fighting for our rights)

Before Manay Judy joined the agency, I admit I did not understand the sacrifices that activists make – standing and marching under the scorching heat of the sun for hours, talking and shouting with clenched fists.

I have never been an active street protester. I used social media and wrote articles to drumbeat the plight of solo parents. Occasionally, I would grant media interviews as a resource person.

Manay Judy inspired me to go beyond this and do more to further enhance our advocacy. During the People’s SONA last July 24, solo parents like me marched alongside scores of activists. We also stood for hours, notwithstanding the heat of the sun during the rallies while calling for her confirmation outside the gates of the Senate and the House of Representatives. 

Activisit 

Manay Judy, being an activist at heart, knows the issues not only of solo parents but also those of other vulnerable groups.

As the DSWD secretary, she would go out and join the officers and members of SWEAP,  COURAGE, and other groups during rallies calling for the resumption of the peace talks, the protection of the rights of the Lumad, and the promotion of the welfare of Contract of Service  (COS) and job order workers of the department. 

It is her commitment, passion, and dedication for the ordinary employees and vulnerable sectors which endeared her to us. As netizens said, Manay Judy is “everyone’s favorite aunt.”

For me, she is a friend, adviser, ardent advocate, and champion of solo parents. She gave us hope and helped our advocacy gain ground in our legal battle. 

Manay Judy was also instrumental in putting a spotlight on solo parents when she bravely stood her ground after Senator Tito Sotto’s insulted her with a controversial remark about solo parents during her first confirmation hearing.

That incident, as Sotto himself said, was a blessing in disguise since it opened the doors of opportunity for FSPL-USPP to strengthen our advocacy. I was besieged with media requests for interviews, and Manay Judy encouraged me to accommodate these and “strike while the iron is hot.”  

Milestone

To further show her support, Manay Judy paved the way for the first ever “Solo Parents Day” at DSWD Central Office last June 24.

It was truly a milestone with more than 300 solo parents and their children participating in an array of activities lined-up for that day. The preparations left me and my fellow officers and members of the DSWD CO-SPEO exhausted.

It was, however, definitely gratifying and heartwarming to witness our fellow solo parents from the workplace and communities enjoying that day.

During the forum, Manay Judy said: “Mahirap maging magulang kung dalawa kayo, lalo na kung nag-iisa ka, kaya’t kailangan ninyo ang suporta ng pamahalaan." (Being a parent is already difficult even when you have your partner with you – moreso if you are doing the parenting alone. This is why solo parents need the government's support.)

Memories of that day will stay with me for as long as I live. Now, I wonder, would there still be a repeat of that event? Who will be our champion now in the department?

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A promise

The day after CA rejected her confirmation, some of the solo parent employees at DSWD CO went to her office at the third floor to personally convey their gratitude for everything that she has done for us. I fought back tears as she hugged each one of us.

“I will still be here to support your advocacy. Ituloy ninyo ang laban at magkita tayo sa lansangan.” (Continue the fight and we’ll see each other in the streets.)

These were her parting words. She even told Manuel Baclagon and Ferdie Gayte, presidents of SWEAP National and COURAGE, respectively, to support us in our continued advocacy.

“Huwag ninyong pabayaan ang mga solo parents, suportahan pa din ninyo sila sa kanilang laban sa pagpapa-amyenda sa batas," she said. 

(Do not neglect the solo parents. Continue to support them in their fight to amend the law.)

And so, Manay Judy, as you leave the department which you have faithfully served for the past 14 months, I promise that as long as I am able, I will continue our advocacy.

We at DSWD, FSPL-USPP, and our supporters will go out there in the streets, waving our flag, and raising our clenched fists.  We will continue to hound the legislators and we will not stop until RA 8972 is amended to grant additional benefits to solo parents.

And we will never forget the injustice that has been done to you. And to us.

As you said Manay, “Magkita tayo sa lansangan, tuloy ang laban! Padayon!" (Let us meet in the streets. The fight continues!) – Rappler.com 

Carina A. Javier is the current president of the Federation of Solo Parents Luzvimin-USPP, the umbrella organization of 15 solo parent associations all over the Philippines. She is also the president of the DSWD Central Office-Solo Parents Employees Organization. She is working at the department as an information officer.

Like others who did not assume that the peace talks between the government of the Philippines and the National Democratic Front (NDF) were doomed from the start, I have wondered why President Rodrigo Duterte abruptly called them off. If Duterte saw nothing to gain from the talks from their inception, it is difficult to explain why he bothered with them in the first place. Even if he simply grew exhausted with the process, I suspect there may be other factors that led him to this decision.

The Information Bureau of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) shared its own explanation, saying of the decision: “It is a strongman’s act of bad faith aimed at bullying the NDFP to bow to his terms of surrender.” To the CPP, and by extension the New People’s Army (NPA), Duterte is a servile despot beholden to the whims of the country’s capitalist oligarchy, military, and imperialist American benefactors.
It is easy to dismiss this interpretation as vintage Maoist propaganda written in the rhetorical style made vogue by Jose Maria Sison. Placing aside the conspiracy theories concerning US-Philippine collusion, however, the CPP’s polemic is worth considering. Although I would not agree with the CPP’s assessment of why the talks failed, they do offer a valuable lens for examining the resumption of hostilities.

The CPP’s assertions prompt two important questions: Did the “oligarchs” – big business owners and Mindanaoan political elites – gain anything from the collapse of the talks? What about the national security establishment? The answer, I find, is mixed.

Duterte’s declaration is a boon to local tycoons seeking coercive solutions to land and labor disputes. These practices are nothing new, but counterinsurgency operations under martial law enable human rights violators to act with impunity. Ironically, many of the governors and mayors of Mindanao are in a severely diminished position to take advantage of the situation since Duterte stripped over a hundred mayors and 7 governors of their authority over police in their barangays, cities, and provinces. While governors and mayors continue to support the administration, the resumption of hostilities between the government and NPA has left Mindanaoan elites in a much weaker position compared to their counterparts in Manila.

Through the pursuit of all-out war against the NPA and other violent actors, Duterte is centralizing his administration’s control over Mindanao by upending its local governments. Duterte’s control over local administration may even increase dramatically as he again considers postponing local elections and installing officers in charge in lieu of elected officials. In his consolidation of authority, Duterte is successfully exploiting the threat of the NPA and other real and imagined agents of domestic instability, and is conceivably testing the waters for nationwide martial law.

Commercial elites in Mindanao face a similarly bleak situation. Contrary to the bullish projections offered by the administration, Mindanao is not seeing the growth many have hoped for. According to the Mindanao Board of Investments, investment pledges in Mindanao declined by 63% in the first half of 2017. Key officials do not believe violence was a major cause, as the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM) saw a 181% increase in pledges despite the bloodshed in the ARMM municipality of Marawi City. It is too soon to know how the economy of Mindanao will perform in the long run, and perhaps the third quarter of the fiscal year will exhibit a different trend as the extent and toll of domestic instability becomes clearer.

Regarding the military and national police, the end of the talks comes in the midst of escalating operations against Moro jihadist groups like the Abu Sayyaf Group, the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters, the Maute Group, and their foreign fighters. Faced with the prospect of a war on all fronts, the security establishment evinces select concerns. Throughout the talks, the Armed Forces have downplayed the NPA as mere bandits and terrorists rather than a revolutionary insurgent threat. Defense Secretary Delfin Lorenzana opposed the talks from the get-go, because he was convinced they would only allow the NPA to gather their strength. Philippine National Police chief Ronald dela Rosa appeared more ambivalent towards the talks, reasoning that so long as peace was attained, it did not matter whether it came from talks or fighting. To an extent, Lorenzana’s and Dela Rosa’s perspectives are understandable; the NPA did continue to extort communities and persons of interest, even committing attacks during the ceasefire, albeit at a slower rate than what was seen after the ceasefire.

A lack of faith in the peace process, however, does not necessarily translate into a desire for war. As the siege of Marawi continues, Lorenzana conveys an increasingly sober appreciation of his situation. By his own estimate, the military costs of the siege amount to P2.5 billion to P3 billion alone, without taking into account the costs of sheltering and caring for displaced persons.  Despite this expenditure, Lorenzana believes that operations in Marawi may continue for another month or two. Despite the NPA’s demonstrated ability to inflict considerable losses against security forces and civilians, there are no signs that the military or police are taking more aggressive actions against the NPA, suggesting that the security establishment understands how costly such escalation would be at this time.

Barring a ceasefire resulting from mutual exhaustion and civil society pressure, an escalation is likely. Perhaps Lorenzana and Dela Rosa were prescient in dismissing the utility of talks, but they should not be overconfident in what they can achieve through prolonged counterinsurgency. If local administrations are further enervated under martial law while investors lose confidence in the stability of the region, a protracted campaign against the resilient NPA will likely serve only to compound Mindanao’s misery, and even spread its woes beyond its borders. – Rappler.com

Luke Lischin is an Academic Assistant at the National War College whose work has been published in outlets such as The Diplomat and the Brookings Institution's Southeast Asia View. Luke’s research interests include political violence in the Philippines and the greater Southeast Asian region.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the National War College.

Below is the full text of the speech veteran broadcast journalist Tina Monzon-Palma delivered at the University of the Philippines' Gawad Plaridel awarding ceremony when she received her award.

Maraming-maraming salamat po, sa lahat po ng naging bahagi nitong parangal na ito.

Maraming-maraming salamat sa Unibersidad (ng Pilipinas), at sa lahat po ng mga kaibigan ko, nakatrabaho ko, nagbigay ng inspirasyon para kami ay maging isang mahusay na organisasyon, sa lahat ng istasyon na sinalihan ko, maraming salamat.

I just cry at the start but the rest is going be fun.

I’ll tell you a fun story, going back to the episode that Dr (Mike) Tan was talking about with his father:

I did the newscast in ANC, The World Tonight, at 10 o’clock, so every day, I would go back from the house, after dinner, and go to the make-up room at about 8:30 pm.

So I park the car in the basement and take a long walk and go to the area where they have the make-up rooms, punch my ID in the turnstile. In the corner of my eye, outside the studio of Vice Ganda, I don’t know what number that is, there were 3 musikeros.

Alam mo yung kumakanta na parang Apeng Daldal, yung mga tumatawa, kilala nila. Ito yung mga kumakanta sa mga restawran, ng mga“Yellow Bird”, “Besame Mucho”, those kinds of songs.

May isa doon sa tatlo na may hawak-hawak ng gitara na nakatitig sa akin, so tinignan ko siya, tapos lumapit s’ya,“Ma’am, mawalang galang na po, kayo po ba si Tina Monzon Palma ng GMA7?”

“Dati po,” sabi ko, “Pero nandito na ako.”

“Ay,” sabi niya, “Ang ganda-ganda n’yo pala sa personal.”

‘Di ba? Wala pa akong make-up noon, ha.

I take about 1-6 steps.

He says, “Pare, si Tina Monzon Palma, nandito na sa ABS-CBN, buhay pa pala ‘yon!” (Audience laughs)

That is why I have both feet on the ground, I’m still alive.

To the younger generation here, I am the veteran under the Cory administration of about 7 coup attempts. And my colleagues are here from Channel 7, Marissa Flores, Grace [dela Peña], Jessica Soho, Luz Rimban, and my cameraman.

We were all together.

So one of the things that we did at the little training from the generals then, was that, when there would be an attempt, the first thing you do is take out the exciter.

It is a broadcast piece of equipment that actually, after my talk with retired broadcast engineer Morato, controls the frequencies of the channel. So nilabas ko yon, and Marisa [Flores] who is here, remembers that I told her to bring the exciter home and she brought it to my house.

And there was another incident where I told another PA to bring the exciter. That’s because there were 7 coup attempts.

In between those coup attempts I would talk to the coup plotters, threatening me not to go on the air.

I said, “Sir, I cannot go on the air because I have no exciter.”

So that’s the end of the story. But then the government of Cory would ask me, “Why aren’t you on the air?”

I said, “I took out the exciter for the EDSA studio but the Channel 7 on Broadway Center could transmit, actually.”

“Why don’t you go on the air on Channel 7 Broadway and we will broadcast using that channel for President Cory Aquino to be able to send a message in the afternoon to the public.”

So I said, “Sure, send them here.”

I did not have the facility for a microwave. None of the PLDT guys wanted to go up the tower of 7 to catch the signal of the microwave from Malacañang, so they could go on broadcast.

So those incidents and many, many other incidents have actually made my years really significant, in the life of this country as far as journalism and democracy are concerned.

The story sounds funny to me and to those who were there at that time.

But I look back, I can tell you I was being reckless and silly and foolish, not resourceful and brave.

Talagang mabilis lang akong mag-isip… “Tangalin ‘yan…”

They were even asking me at some point when they found out that there was a group of plotters who could transmit using some makeshift equipment to broadcast on a separate band and be heard on a limited area only.

The military told me to point to them where the elements of the tower of channel 7 and our radio station, so they could harpoon it and tear it down.

But that’s going to be the subject of some other story.

So I admit I was reckless and not resourceful at all sometimes. I did not actually think that anything would come of that stunt I pulled, but I knew I had to do something.

We try to pretend we are brave and somehow that little piece of courage sees us through, but I kept my wits and harnessed all the smarts we’ve learned through the years and I’m still...to this day, proud to remember all of those days.

You’ve all seen that overused, trite, cliché drawing of the candle in the dark? That symbol came to life from that little piece of courage we all try to keep alive.

This is gonna make me cry again. One person carried the strongest flame and she was a friend – unwavering, clear-headed. Letty Jimenez Magsanoc, you know her?

A month ago, I read with sadness that the Prietos had sold a majority stake in the newspaper that started as a “mosquito press.”

I wonder how my dear friend Letty would have reacted. I wonder if it would have happened at all if she was still around at the helm. Sadly, these are not questions I can ever answer.

Thinking about Letty led my mind to wander back to the early year of the 1980s, when media played a key role in awakening a nation from two decades of slumber.

Looking back at Martial Law, people talk about the First Quarter Storm and the events leading up to the February Revolution. I stayed throughout the years of Martial Law.

That episode that was put on the screen about my wanting to ask a question and not letting go of the opportunity was an interview with President Ferdinand Marcos on the eve, or two days before the snap elections.

They had put together all the anchors of the TV stations and I put in Dong Puno to be the representative of Channel 7.

There were others there from Channel 9, from Channel 4 etc, Channel 13, but one day after, they say, “Ma’am they like you to be on the panel.”

I said, “No, I sent already, Dong Puno as a representative.” And so I turned it down.

And then another guy, who I happen to know who works with Marcos said, “Pare makisama ka naman, o.”

Sabi n’ya. “Hinihingi ka, eh. Hinihingi kang maupo.”  

“Eh, nandun na si Dong, anong gagawin ko doon?” I said.

He said, “Pare, pakikisama mo lang, nakikiusap ako.”

So I go there, we’re in this panel, a horseshoe panel.

The first thing that I see is the President of the Philippines who said he was fit, being carried by the PSG. Carried, his feet were not on the floor.

I said, “I will never have this chance again.”

And so I said, “I saw you being carried by your PSG, is there something that you’re feeling that we should know about?”

And then all of a sudden they put on the screen body-building video. Anyway, he was able to give an excuse for that.

So there was another round that went on, and I was the last in that round.

“Sir,” sabi ko,“I’m sitting a few feet away from you and I can see that you have a lot of needle marks.” And I could, I’m looking for that tape, I could not honestly remember what he answered.

But my sister tells me, my dad was watching at home, and he was telling my sister, “Hoy, ano naman ang tinanong ni Christine? Nakakatakot yun! Baka s’ya mahuli!” But nothing of that sort happened.

You talk about the years, but few talk about the years in between, the hard years, the darkest hours, the years, when all hope seemed lost and no silver lining was in sight.

These were the years when almost everything you watched, heard or read were a tepid, timid and whitewashed version of reality.

These were the years, if you were from UP you must know this, there were years when people lived in fear of the knock on the door in the night, which often ended with people dying or going missing to this day.

But wait, this generation IS living through a version of that time. PRE-EDSA 2.0.

I’m talking about the crony press, but you call it fake news.

In many ways those years are uncannily similar today, don’t you think? Nobody’s answering. (Audience: Yes!) Except that everything is on steroids.

During those years, everything was placid above ground but there was groundswell underneath. I’m thinking, “How fast will this generation’s volcano explode?” Everything happens 10 times faster.

The fires of defiance, disobedience, and struggle were lit by a magazine called Mr and Ms. It was a voice in the wilderness. In a way we’re back in the  wilderness – when before we had censorship, now we are in a wasteland of hate and intolerance. Do you feel that?

Why am I telling you this? Because my main takeaway is, it is darkest before the dawn.

As journalists, what role do we play in this new wave of authoritarianism and hate speech?

Do we still matter – as the role of gatekeeper shifts from content producers to curators like Facebook?

Before the advent of fake news, many were saying, the journalist will be replaced by the citizen journalists.

But as truth becomes blurred, our role once again becomes clear. And what is the role of the journalist? To investigate, cut through the white noise, present the situation as clearly as possible and as Vergel [Santos] would always tell us, ask the hard questions.

There was a time when news programs on TV and radio were the number one sources of news.

That has dramatically changed. Increasingly, these programs share the influence over audiences with the internet.

Ironically, as the internet democratized opinion dissemination, media lost its halo.

Fake news and the proponents of the campaign line “media is bias” (without the ED) eroded trust in media. But stress, our trade depends on trust. In the absence of truth, you have no choice but to believe the person in power.

How do we remain relevant in an age when truth itself seems to be under assault?

There is only one answer, my friends, especially the younger generation. The media cannot be timid. Media need not be timid if it sticks to good journalism.

You will never feel afraid if you know what you write about is the truth, you’ve been able to do your vetting and you’ve been able to consult, if you’re writing for a newspaper or producing a newscast with your editors, they would have made sure you do a really good job.

Journalism’s best weapon against lies is to be transparent, thorough and provocative.

When mainstream media descends into unobtrusiveness, it does its audience a disservice.

When media masters the art of camouflage, the people will forget.

When media becomes muted, we let the underlying message behind the trolls and the propaganda machines to dominate the discourse.

What is this underlying message? Edward R. Murrow, does anybody know who he is?

Murrow is a favorite radio-TV personality of ours. Angelo Castro, we always talk about him.

What is this underlying message according to Edward R. Murrow? He named that evil a long time ago.

That is when people equate dissent with disloyalty.

Let me give you a quick example. In one of those coup attempts in 1990, soldiers who took over two military camps, I think in Cagayan or Butuan or Iligan, this is Colonel Alexander Noble.

And Jessica would know this because she was the reporter who was flying in with a bunch of tapes and I was on the phone for 5 hours talking to all the generals and all the people In the Palace.

They were appealing to me, because they had been able to stop the rebellion at that time.

So they had talked to me to say, “Don’t show it anymore.”

I said, “Why not, sir?”

Because there might be sympathizers, and they're unsure that they had actually quelled whatever it was that was there. But I said, “No, Jessica, go ahead write your story.”

She was nearly crying and she said, “Ma’am, i-e-ere ba ito?” I said, “I-e-ere ‘yan. Let me just deal with these people.”

Jose Marie Velez was so impatient and didn’t want to deal with my ordeal of being challenged by all of these people.

This general who was the highest-ranking general at that time said, “Tina, can I just make an appeal to you? We’re in a very delicate situation. We’ve been able to quell.”

Sabi ko, “Sir, ganito na lang, you did a good job, you do your job, and I will do my job.” And I put the phone down. And I was wondering, did you think I was going to be treasonous at that point when I was just airing a story? People had to know that there was this bunch of military guys who wanted to establish the republic of Mindanao. They had even printed their own currency at that time.

So these were difficult times, and every time I remembered the story, that carried me on. You cannot be challenged if you know the truth, if you personally know the truth, you trust the organization and the people you work with. They cannot break it, they can only invent things.

To everyone, especially the millennials:

Wala tayong karapatang manghiya, manindak at magpalaganap ng pagkamuhi.

May karapatan tayong maging-weird, maging kakaiba at magkamali.

May karapatan tayong tumuligsa magtanong at magpahayag.

To all of you my friends, you are in media now, 30 years ago media answered that call. Now it is your turn. Maraming, maraming salamat po.– Rappler.com

On August 22, Tuesday, after pop star Ariana Grande's Manila concert, presidential daughter Kitty Duterte uploaded a photo of herself with Ariana with the captio,n “I’m literally dying.” The backlash was fierce and instantaneous, with memes juxtaposing the 13-year-old’s post with photos of EJK victims, and tons of hateful language spewed toward her.

How dare she not realize the utter insensitivity and tone-deafness of her statement, the angry mob cried. Well, angry mob, the answer is simple. She is a child.

A child exposed greatly to slang such as “literally dying,” meeting an international pop star. I’m fairly sure that when she wrote that caption for the photo, the prospect of spitting on the graves of every EJK victim wasn’t exactly what she was going for, so much as being a ditzy pre-teen spazz. And let’s face it: we were all ditzy pre-teen spazzes once.

Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you know Kitty just didn’t know any better. Let’s say you are harnessing her post regardless to make a statement about her father’s doings, with the reasoning that if a man is a monster, then his family is fair game. If that is your way of reasoning, then how much better are you, really, than the drug war’s supporters, who rationalize that innocents who die in the line of fire are simply collateral damage? If you are willing to twist logic and forego compassion just to get your way, then you don’t seem to be a very upstanding person yourself.

Yes, anger can definitely be healthy, especially at a time like this when we need to be indignant about so many, many wrongs, but if we don’t channel that fury in the right direction, then we’ll just be adding strife to a country that’s overflowing with it.

{source}<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned data-instgrm-version="7" style=" background:#FFF; border:0; border-radius:3px; box-shadow:0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width:658px; padding:0; width:99.375%; width:-webkit-calc(100% - 2px); width:calc(100% - 2px);"><div style="padding:8px;"> <div style=" background:#F8F8F8; line-height:0; margin-top:40px; padding:30.89770354906054% 0; text-align:center; width:100%;"> <div style=" background:url(data:image/png;base64,iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAACwAAAAsCAMAAAApWqozAAAABGdBTUEAALGPC/xhBQAAAAFzUkdCAK7OHOkAAAAMUExURczMzPf399fX1+bm5mzY9AMAAADiSURBVDjLvZXbEsMgCES5/P8/t9FuRVCRmU73JWlzosgSIIZURCjo/ad+EQJJB4Hv8BFt+IDpQoCx1wjOSBFhh2XssxEIYn3ulI/6MNReE07UIWJEv8UEOWDS88LY97kqyTliJKKtuYBbruAyVh5wOHiXmpi5we58Ek028czwyuQdLKPG1Bkb4NnM+VeAnfHqn1k4+GPT6uGQcvu2h2OVuIf/gWUFyy8OWEpdyZSa3aVCqpVoVvzZZ2VTnn2wU8qzVjDDetO90GSy9mVLqtgYSy231MxrY6I2gGqjrTY0L8fxCxfCBbhWrsYYAAAAAElFTkSuQmCC); display:block; height:44px; margin:0 auto -44px; position:relative; top:-22px; width:44px;"></div></div> <p style=" margin:8px 0 0 0; padding:0 4px;"> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYF4B0rlPsQ/" style=" color:#000; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; font-style:normal; font-weight:normal; line-height:17px; text-decoration:none; word-wrap:break-word;" target="_blank">I&#39;M LITERALLY DYING RN @arianagrande</a></p> <p style=" color:#c9c8cd; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px; margin-bottom:0; margin-top:8px; overflow:hidden; padding:8px 0 7px; text-align:center; text-overflow:ellipsis; white-space:nowrap;">A post shared by veronique (@vduterteee) on <time style=" font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px;" datetime="2017-08-22T09:55:29+00:00">Aug 22, 2017 at 2:55am PDT</time></p></div></blockquote> <script async defer src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>{/source}

At the core of it is that fact that this is a kid we’re talking about, and she still has a lot to learn and improve about herself. Maybe, again for the sake of argument, that she is a hardcore defender of killing the poor. While that is very much a horrible thing, she has her whole life ahead of her to realize that she is flat-out wrong. Please don’t tell me that every single thing *you* took for true when you were 13 remains true until now.

It’s the same way, in fact, with Duterte supporters in general. So much blood has been shed, and yes, the country keeps feeling like it’s going to be maimed and mangled for the final, fatal time, but minds can still change, however naive that sounds.

Some, in fact, already have, because of tragedies such as the Marcos burial and the death of Kian delos Santos. And we have to take it upon ourselves to convince the others who remain hard-headed, because we can’t just keep waiting for another terrible, terrible thing to happen to shake up a conscience here and there.

The best way to do that is to be a reminder of why we should value each other. Be the kind of person who does things, big or small, that teaches others that cooperation and respect generates far greater results than causing conflict and inciting hate. So, for starters, maybe you should leave Kitty Duterte out of this. I mean, if you want her to grow up to be good, then show her what it’s like to be good. – Rappler.com

Late in the evening of August 6, the video of Patricia Bautista, estranged wife of Commission on Elections (Comelec) Chairman Andres Bautista, was uploaded on Youtube publicly. She claims that her husband “might” have amassed nearly P1 billion worth of ill-gotten wealth. Few hours after, on the front page of the Philippine Daily Inquirer ran the headline “Wife says poll chief has ill-gotten wealth,” shocking the nation.

While it started as another high-profile marital trouble, sometime after, administration-linked bloggers started connecting it with the 2016 national elections, and claiming that Chairman Bautista’s unexplained wealth was proof that the recent elections had been rigged to favor certain candidates for national posts.

Suspended lawyer and now blogger Trixie Angeles highlighted that Patricia’s counsel mentioned that “Chairman Bautista has links with Smartmatic and personally met with them in Washington, DC.” Another blogger RJ Nieto of Thinking Pinoy came up with a little more complex explanation, linking Chairman Bautista to Mar Roxas of the Liberal Party. He explained that Patricia “suspects” that Chairman Bautista received referral fees from Divina Law and that the “former DND Sec. Avelino Nonong Cruz, a staunch Mar Roxas ally, is (or was) a high profile client of Divina Law,” urging the public after to “connect the dots.”

The question of whether Bautista’s alleged undeclared assets are ill-gotten or illegally acquired or simply the fact of his under-declaration in his Statement of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALN) are of course matters that need to be explained by him convincingly. As a public official and head of one of the most important and sensitive constitutional agencies, he must be above reproach and suspicion.

Connecting, however, this controversy to the 2016 elections and to the whole Comelec is another matter. Now, as insinuated by Nieto, are there enough dots to connect Bautista’s alleged undeclared assets with the integrity of the elections?

Questions on results include Duterte's votes

We need to start by laying out the facts. First, policy questions relating to elections are not just decided by the Comelec chairman. Unlike the executive department, where matters are solely decided by the President, the Comelec is a collegial body, composed of the chairman and 6 other commissioners, voting equally. All decisions relating to elections – from the choice of election technology to the approval of the voting precincts – need to be decided by at least the majority of the 7 members of the en banc.

From the operations perspective, an automated election is ran by a 5,000-strong Comelec bureaucracy in close coordination with the chosen election technology (Smartmatic for the 2016 elections), implemented by more than 300,000 school teachers, secured by the whole manpower of the Philippine National Police and the armed forces, watched over by election watchers, observers, and watchdogs in every voting precinct, and participated in by more than 50 million voters.

To implement a successful nationwide cheating scheme, both these aspects – policy and execution– must be dealt with. Cheating in an automated election system is not as simple as padding numbers as in the days of manual elections. To have a numerical impact in a national contest, a cheating scheme has to be repeated in a massive scale that it can potentially be messy and too risky because it is easily detectable.

It is also not enough that numbers are increased or decreased, any scheme chosen also has to be defensible in an election protest proceeding that maybe filed by losing candidates. The paper ballots and their scanned copies will always be there and can be revisited in an election protest proceeding. There are also security and transparency features embedded at every level, from voting to canvassing, meant to make fraud or attempts to commit fraud easily discoverable. For example, precinct-level election results are printed in 30 copies and publicly distributed before transmitting them electronically, allowing interested parties to run independent canvassing and tallies parallel to Comelec's.

My point is simple: elections are way too bigger to be rigged just by the chairman or even by the en banc. While they make decisions and sets policy that affects the whole automated election system, it will take a massive web of collusion and conspiracy to hack or compromise its integrity.

There is also no incentive for Smartmatic to compromise its own system. It is a global business operating in many countries. What it earns in the Philippines is but a small part of its global election-related business. From the perspective of business, it does not make sense to compromise its global brand, potential business deals, and established goodwill for just a little more income. Any scandal which would put in question the integrity of its election machines is bound to be disastrous for the company. Elections are trust-based and perception is everything. 

In the course of this debate, critics and politicians aligned with the President have claimed that this issue of electoral integrity in relation to Bautista can be surgically confined to closely contested positions, conveniently exempting the President and other elective officials who won overwhelmingly in the last elections.

This is a very poor argument born of a very poor understanding of how automated elections work. This is no longer a manual election, where incidents are severable and fraud can possibly happen in isolation. In an automated election system employing a single type of machine running in a uniform software and produced by the same company, a technological vulnerability in one component indiscriminately affects the whole. 

A compromised automated election system can bear only compromised results. In the same way that a poisonous tree bear poisoned fruits, a poisoned automated election system will only yield poisoned results. No lead is too overwhelming or no amount of votes can cure a poisoned election. A poisoned mandate is no mandate.

The chairman is not the Comelec

Even assuming that a Comelec chairman has that power to compromise the elections and make a particular candidate win, that's not Chairman Bautista.

He came to the Commission in 2015, a total stranger to automated elections. Unlike his predecesor Sixto Brillantes Jr, who is one of the pillars of the country’s election law practice, Bautista is an outsider. Not just an outsider in the sense of not rising from the ranks within the Comelec, but someone who is a stranger in the election practice. He was plucked from the Presidential Commission on Good Government (PCGG), the quasi-judicial agency created by former President Corazon Aquino to recover ill-gotten wealth accumulated during the Marcos regime. While he has past stints with the PPCRV, Comelec’s citizens’ arm, he has zero practical experience in the election practice, election management, or in election technology. 

Perhaps knowing his own limitations, he unloaded right from the very start a huge chunk of administrative work traditionally assigned to the chairman to either the executive director or his fellow commissioners. The same thing happened in Comelec’s preparation in the last election –  Chairman Bautista took a back seat. Apart from presiding regular en banc meetings, where policy directions could have been decided, the only concrete election-related project that Chairman Bautista actively pushed in the last elections was the “mall voting,” which was unceremoniously cancelled at the last minute due to serious questions on its legality and other logistical issues. 

Overall, while Chairman Bautista is seen generous in terms of bonuses and employee benefits, to many close observers, he is a poor and detached manager. His very own office was notorious for delays, tattered with factions and in-fighting, and infamous for its regular stream of resignations. Later, the same organizational mayhem spilled to the Commission en banc. He lost control of its stirring wheel right at the get-go. Some personalities in the en banc were either too strong for him (or he is too weak for them) – a dysfunction which eventually lead to that controversial June 23, 2016, leaked memorandum from all his 6 commissioners castigating him and calling him out for his “failed leadership.” 

It is under this organizational scenario that Baustista has been accused of singlehandedly rigging or influencing the elections or facilitated the victory of some candidates. Many of us immediately dismissed these fanciful allegations not because we could vouch for the integrity of Chairman Bautista, but because of the fact that everyone privy to the preparations know that he neither has the actual power, the influence, or simply the balls to make it happen.

Unfortunately, accusations, regardless of how flimsy or speculative, when peddled in an environment of credulity, may not only be taken as gospel truth, but can easily be twisted by opportunists to advance their political motives.

As much as we are interested in uncovering the truth about Chairman Bautista, we have to be circumspect in dragging the Comelec into the whole mess. Bautista, himself, should have distanced himself from the institution right from the start.

In the end, we must remember that Comelec is way bigger than Chairman Bautista, his wife, and their marital troubles. They will soon fade away in the limelight, forgotten and filed in our consciousness as another marriage gone bad. But institutions like Comelec will still be there, bruised, and limping once again. – Rappler.com 

Emil Marañon III is an election lawyer who served as chief of staff of former Comelec Chairman Sixto Brillantes Jr. He completed his LLM in Human Rights, Conflict and Justice at SOAS, University of London, as a Chevening scholar. He is legal consultant in several election protests, including Vice President Leni Robredo's. 

“One death too many!” This phrase perhaps best captures the sentiment felt by men or women in the streets upon hearing about the extrajudicial killing of another “suspect” in the government’s unrelenting “war on drugs.” 

The name “Kian” is no longer just one in a long list of victims; his killing perhaps marks the “tipping point” that has aroused the people’s proverbial patience. It is no longer the number of victims breaching the thousands that have caused outrage; rather, it is the jarring truth that we have been largely silent for far too long.

The resurgent politics of hate and fear

This phenomenon is not confined to the Philippines alone. The emergence of the politics of hate and fear is a widespread sentiment shared by leaders claiming to be “populist” or “nationalists” be it in Turkey or Hungary, or the USA where Donald Trump’s “America First” crusade has mobilized frenzied followers as well as galvanized relentless resistance.

Oddly, this large “tent” embodying the politics of hate and fear also includes individuals and bands of terrorists spawned by the failed states in Afghanistan or Iraq, Syria or Libya, and Yemen or native-born zealots who seek redemption by spreading their message of hate, demonizing those in their target countries. Cannon fodder in this seeming “war unto death” are legitimate immigrants or refugees, dissidents or members of opposition groups now with muted voices and crushed hopes, instead. 

Long history recalled

The politics of hate and fear has a long history. Consider the tragic events that we cannot erase from our memories such as the inhuman slaughter of innocents in the concentration camps of Nazi Germany to the killing fields of Cambodia, the mute testimonies of the villages awash in blood in Rwanda and Burundi, the cries of pain that echoed in the Estadio Nacional (the national stadium) in Pinochet’s Chile converted into an arena for the torture and elimination of political prisoners, and gunfire mowing down children in the shanty towns of Soweto and Crossroads in South Africa’s shameful apartheid period.

What made these killings, most of which have been classified as “crimes against humanity”, possible was the creation of “enemies” that had to be crushed, killed or annihilated because they were “others” who could not be trusted except when they no longer breathed. 

They had become “objects of hate” and subjects for elimination since they were not fit to walk in step together with others presumed to be their “betters” or those of the superior race. In the same way, drug addicts, drug pushers and drug lords had to be destroyed at all costs lest they “contaminate” the others. They had lost their birthright as citizens as well as their claim to humanity; thus, given the logic of the politics of hate and fear, they had to be “neutralized” and put away for good.

Is there a way out?

Is there a way out of this spiral of hate and fear, of this type of politics consisting of “us” and “them,” of this escalating war that has now touched the lives of people from the towns of Bulacan and Pampanga to the city of Marawi that for the last 3 months has become a battlefield sending hundreds of thousands of residents into “refugee camps”, creating hostile hearts as they witness the devastation of their homes and the destruction of their sacred sites.

It is so easy to despair, to turn one’s back and retreat to a shell of indifference and cynicism: “nothing, nothing at all, can be done!” But my experience in comparative conflict situations in different but somehow similar settings tell me that “Yes” – it is possible to turn back things; transform even the most tragic of circumstances and build something even better than the past. 

The politics of hate and fear does not have to paralyze a people; it can be addressed and it can, in fact, catalyze a sense of common purpose, it can unleash both resolve and resistance; it can engender hope that makes change possible.

7 steps to turn back the politics of hate

Start Where You Are.  Reality dictates that we start where we are. We can acknowledge our situation, our strengths and limitations. We can consider our options, the possibilities, and the priorities. We can reflect on what realistically can be done – beginning with one’s self and thinking of working with others.  

Respect Others, At All Times.  At the core of our endeavors is respect for others, at all times. Respect for others demands a capacity to listen and learn, to dialogue and see the other as a worthy dialogue partner whose “truth” I must value. People who have other or even contrarian views are people worth respecting though we may not agree always; in some ways, we may aim to explore common ground and begin to understand that there is more to what unites us than what divides us.

Show Reverence for Life.  In the spectrum of politics there may be one common denominator: reverence for life. We are all created equal, and we share the same humanity. Thus, we can at least demand from each other an unwavering reverence for life; the intention to do no harm; the willingness to bind the wounds of the other and to redress real or perceived grievances.

Take A Stand, Courage is Contagious.  Politics is the art of imperfect creation. There can be wrong or failed policies; there can also be ill-intentioned actions. The imperative then becomes this: take a stand, and remember that courage is contagious. In fact, courage is a verb and requires the capacity to hold and express principled positions, when called for, and to be brave in the practice of politics.   

Transform Risks into Opportunities.  We are often faced by choices, risks or even failure. The challenge is to transform the risks into opportunities and to learn that failure can be a friend. The task then becomes the ability to draw lessons from our mistakes, and retrieve something positive from the negatives that come our way in the field of public or community service, or the political arena.

Begin with Small Steps in a Marathon Journey.  To achieve worthwhile results in politics requires a marathon mentality. One has to be ready to engage for the long-haul, ready to undertake a marathon journey. But one must understand that long journeys often require the first small steps. Thus, we cannot be burdened with envisioned end-goals unless we are willing to take the first few steps. Begin with small steps, such as making a resolve to undertake daily acts of kindness that sets us up on our way.

Conspire to Keep Hope Alive.  To unleash a new kind of politics, we may have to learn to work well with others. We can conspire to keep hope alive, in the first place, and ensure that we will together harness our energies and resources for the work that will be ongoing, and will, at least in our lifetime, become a continual work in progress.

The task to turn back the politics of hate and fear is joined. It will take time, but now that we have reached a turning point, there is no turning back. – Rappler.com

Ed Garcia was a framer of the 1987 Constitution, he taught political science at the University of the Philippines and the Ateneo de Manila University. He worked previously at Amnesty International and International Alert where he was engaged in peace efforts in countries in Asia, Africa, Latin America, Europe and the Middle East for over two decades. In post-retirement, he serves as a consultant on formation for scholar-athletes at FEU-Diliman.

Restless and disturbed, I went to Caloocan City Sunday night, August 20,  with friends to visit the boy named Kian de los Santos. Waze could only get us onto NLEX and the West Service Road. Beyond that, we had to resort to good, old pagtatanong-tanong to find Kian.

Cecille, sitting in front, must have a lot of faith in the Pinoy "uzi" tradition or ABS-CBN and GMA news reach to ask the first tricycle driver she saw: “Sa'n ho ang burol ni Kian?” To our surprise, the man gave us directions. Googlemap was saying something else, though. We decided to triangulate and found another person to ask. She gave the same directions.

We drove for another 3 or 4 kilometers based on the directions we got. Along the way, I wondered how Duterte’s PSG assessed the way to Barangay 160. Rumor had it that he visited Kian’s wake earlier in the afternoon. There was a long stretch of cogon field, it looked like we were leaving the urban jungle, but then I remembered we were still in Caloocan City. 

The neighborhood we found ourselves in teemed with activities on a Sunday night. A big group, out on an alley, was celebrating a birthday with a karaoke party. A few meters away, we passed Kian’s old school, Libis Baesa Elementary School. And then there it was: Kian’s school supplies and candy eskaparate, and his white coffin. Born: May 26, 2000. Died: August 16, 2017. A true millennial whose life was cut short too soon. So many people in the alley, with neighbors and visitors (huddled or crowding) at tables and on benches, drinking alcohol, playing cards, or just chatting. 

On top of Kian’s coffin was a yellow chick pecking on rice grains. Somebody said the chick’s pecking is meant to supernaturally peck away at his killers’ conscience. One of the women in my group said the chick’s stomach was already bloated and it almost fell off the coffin. My thought was: this chick will die soon and the killers’ conscience will be none the worse for wear. Poor chick. Poor Kian. 

One of the men in the umpukan said he was accosted by policemen in earlier tokhang visits. He was only saved by his smelly, sweat-drenched clothes in his bag, as he responded to questions about what his business was. He was a construction worker. 

Four of us in the group walked through the alleys and traced the path where Kian was dragged. From a narrow alleyway, we came to a wide open space, a basketball court. The time was about the same time as the night Kian was murdered. It was a busy place. There was an internet cafe. Lots of teenagers milling around. I was wondering how witnesses heard Kian pleading for his killers to stop beating him (“Tama na po, may test pa po ako bukas”). I could imagine it more clearly now.

The boys playing basketball must have known what we were looking for; they pointed us in the right direction. From the basketball court, the alleyways went downwards and were poorly lit and slippery. I was a bit nervous, but I could still hear the thudding of the basketballs and the sound of computer games. Two small children were playing and asked if we were there to see where Kian’s body was found. (WATCH: The dark alley to Kian delos Santos' death)

We let the children guide us deeper into the alleys. A man came out and told us to be careful – the path was slippery as it had been raining and mud from the upper alleys had descended in theirs. In hushed tones, he said he only heard the gunshots. He said he only goes home to rest from a whole day’s work. And then he added “umuuwi lang kami para magpahinga”. I was trying to understand what he was saying. I think he was saying he does not know what happens in the community during the day and is too tired when he gets home to even ask what is happening around him. 

We found the spot where Kian breathed his last. Right beside a pig pen, and where a gaping hole in the wall served as a dike off the Tullahan River. As luck would have it, the hole was too small for Kian’s lifeless body to be washed off into the river. I asked the two children to buy candles and matches. Off they went and came back quickly, skipping as they ran. They knew the nooks and crannies and were sure-footed.

We lit the candles and silently meditated about what must have been going through in Kian’s mind as he lay there. Was he still thinking of the school exam the following day? In my experience of working with young people, their sense of “invincibility” is quite strong. Kian must have thought he was just being terrorized and that he would be going home to his family’s small store after the beating. (READ: PNP, PAO agree: Kian kneeling when killed) 

We trooped back to the wake, finding our bearing, looking out for the basketball court and alert to the computer game noise. Life goes on for the teenagers milling around. It hit me hard, how the police brazenly dragged a boy through this public place and busy alleyways. They must have been secure in the knowledge that no witnesses will be brave enough to pinpoint them. Terrifying. 

Another umpukan, this time of older men. They must have been going on for quite some time as the chattering was already slurred. In the chatter I heard one man said, “hindi sila Diyos para pumatay ng tao...due process...” Others were nodding but a few others admonished them with a “ssshhhh”. Martial law crossed my mind. Duterte does not need to declare martial law in this part of the country. Fear has already taken root: fear of being heard and fear of being ratted out.

Back at Kian’s wake, one last gaze on the slightly-built boy inside the white coffin. I put some bills inside the jar for abuloy and signed the visitors’ list. There was a girl sitting beside the coffin, Kian’s younger sister. I asked how she was. She said she was afraid to go out of the house now. 

The tiny yellow chick was still pecking on the rice grains. 

#justiceforkian

We remember. We mourn. We fight.– Rappler.com 

Jing Pura is a social development worker with more than a decade of work in partnering with urban poor community associations to develop self-help social services and rights protection. She is currently working with an NGO that focuses on disaster preparedness.

Patapos na ang latest season ng GoT! While we wait for the next one, sing-along na lang tayo! 1, 2, 3, and...

DUN dun du du DUN dun du du DUN dun du du DUN dun du du DUUUUUUUN 

(dun dun du du dun dun du du dun dun du du dun dun du du dun)

Artwork by Alyssa Arizabal
Text by Marguerite de Leon

#FridayFeels is a cartoon series by the Rappler Creatives Team. Cathartic, light, but relevant, it's a welcome break from your heavy news feed! You can pitch illustration ideas by sending a message to the Rappler Facebook page.

For over a year now, we have been appealing to President Rodrigo Duterte to stop his so-called “war on drugs” – and not because we do not want the drug problem to be solved but precisely because we want it solved and his “kill, kill, kill” approach is not the solution.

We have signed so many petitions. We have issued so many statements. We have marched on the streets. We have called on the other branches of government to intervene and fulfill their duty of checking and balancing the executive.

Not content with simply criticizing, we have pushed for a more effective alternative solution.

We have rallied behind a more comprehensive anti-drug program that would focus more on radically reforming the corrupt legal system, on increasing spending on public health and improving rehabilitation, and more generally, on addressing the roots of poverty.

In line with this, we have called on the President to put an end to “contractualization,” to secure higher wages and benefits, and to ensure job security. We have pushed for progressive tax reform to increase spending on social services and improve our public schools and hospitals while minimizing burden on the poor. We have demanded land and wealth redistribution to increase people’s purchasing power and boost the economy.

More generally, we have tried to make him support our fight for a real democracy – for the kind of democracy that previous presidents promised but failed to deliver, the kind of democracy that many were yearning for by rejecting the Aquino administration and putting him in office.

We have tried to bring him to join us build a new kind of society: a society that does not push the desperate to survive by engaging in the drug trade; a society that does not drive the alienated to seek momentary escape through opiates and narcotics.

In short, while we certainly can and should do more, it cannot be said that we have not tried to make the President listen.

And yet, instead of heeding our calls, Duterte has made it very clear that he has no intention of ending his so-called “war on drugs” – and that despite at least 3,000, if not 13,000, now dead as a consequence of this war, he’d be more than happy if many more were killed.

Though he has belatedly said that he will not necessarily pardon Kian’s killers, he has not said the same of thousands of others’ killers, and he has refused to say what we need to hear: that he is abandoning his brutal but ineffective approach to the drug problem and pursuing a different path.

Instead of addressing the roots of the problem, he has further legitimized contractualization and embraced the very same anti-poor and anti-worker policies promoted by his predecessors (and also supported by those vying to lead the “opposition.”)

He is railroading a regressive anti-reformist tax program which will squeeze the poor more while benefiting the rich.

And he has refused to push for, or has even stood against, more radical redistributive programs that could bring about more equitable development and prosperity.

Rather than leading our struggle for real democracy, he has been creating the conditions for an even more openly authoritarian – if not outrightly fascist – rule.

Instead of helping us build a more civilized society, he is plunging us to barbarism.

And if we allow him, he will continue to deploy all the power and the resources commanded by the presidency to escalate his brutal war on the poor, to establish a dictatorial regime, and to take us to a modern dark age.

We have a moral duty to stop this from happening.

Today, given the President’s refusal to hear our pleas, the only way we can do that is to do the one thing we have understandably been hesitant to do, and would have preferred not to do if he had given us a better choice. 

We are now left with no other option but to assert our inalienable and democratic right to call for his ouster.

Why simple ‘regime change’ is not enough


But simply removing Duterte from office will not be enough to save us from the deep social, economic, and cultural morass from which Duterte emerged and successfully wrested power.


If he resigns and allows his constitutional successor to take over, we may enjoy a welcome reprieve from the killings and roll back the authoritarian threat. 

But since this successor has so far refused to break with the neoliberal dogma (and lately even refused to take a strong position regarding Duterte’s martial law), she is only likely to pursue the same (if slightly "softer") anti-poor and anti-worker policies that both Aquino and Duterte are united behind.


If he is ousted by a military coup – as some military officials are reportedly advocating, we face a different threat: the junta that will replace him is also likely to just continue Aquino's and Duterte’s pro-elite programs – though this time, with even more repressive means at their disposal.

 Neither will result in the alleviation of the widespread insecurity and desperation that drove so many among the middle-classes and the working classes to embrace Duterte and rally behind his fascistic regime in the first place.

Duterte and the elite opposition will predictably insist that these are the only alternatives: either you’re with Duterte – or you’re with the dilawan hacenderos or the right-wing generals.

But there is at least one other better possibility they don’t want us to even imagine: a democratic People Power uprising which ushers in a very different, because non-exploitative and truly radically-democratic and participatory system.

What exactly this new system is – how it will look like, how it will function, and what transitional steps should be taken for it to be established – should itself be the subject of more democratic debates and discussion: its very conceptualization and creation should itself already seek to practice the kind of radical, participatory democracy it seeks to establish.

But one thing is certain: it will be difficult if not impossible to bring this system into being for as long as Duterte is in power – or for as long as fascism gains ground and obliterates all spaces for dissent.

Only by building a broad, united, and democratic mass movement capable not only of ousting Duterte but also of resisting other elites desperate to return to power can we open up a better historic alternative. 

But for that movement to arise, we need to have the vision and the courage to disobey and say what both Duterte and the elite opposition don’t want us to say: not just that Duterte must be ousted but that a new system, a new society must be constructed.

The danger of remaining silent

Many will likely say that to call for this now is foolish, reckless, or even infantile: The conditions, or the “balance of forces,” do not allow for it. Duterte is still too popular. The masa are not ready. We will only further repel or alienate them by making such "extreme" calls.

What we need to do, they are likely to argue, is to further “expose” Duterte and wait until he is already fully “exposed” before calling for ouster. What we need to do is to first “exhaust” all available options to seek relief from the killings and from creeping authoritarianism. To call for regime and systemic change now would only help the elite opposition and/or the coup plotters gain power, they will likely hold.

 Their fears are certainly grounded, but their assumptions and conclusions need to be further interrogated.

The conditions are certainly not favorable. But conditions are not given: they are not going to change unless we try to change them – and the call for ouster and for system change is precisely an attempt to change those conditions. Duterte is still popular precisely because those who are – or who should be – in a position to openly say that the emperor has no clothes still hesitate to do so for fear of being isolated. The masa will be even less “ready” if they see that others – or that we ourselves – are also not ready. 


There is no necessary opposition between further exposing Duterte and calling for his accountability through ouster; on the contrary, it is by calling for accountability through ouster that we can better expose Duterte because only by doing so can we begin to make them ask why he needs to be held accountable and why he needs to be ousted.


There is also no necessary opposition between exhausting all available remedies to stop the bloodshed and counter dictatorship and pushing for regime-plus-systemic change; on the contrary, only by pushing for more radical change can we have a better chance of stopping the bloodshed and countering dictatorship because only by doing so can we exercise more leverage to at least gain some relief.


In this light, to shirk from saying what needs to be said in the hope of avoiding unfavorable outcomes may, in fact, paradoxically bring about those very outcomes.

 That’s because if, or once, the Liberals and/or the military generals do take the initiative and call for ouster – while we ourselves remain hesitant and silent – it is these Liberals and/or these coup plotters who will then be able to define the alternatives and mobilize the masa behind them while we ourselves would find ourselves even more isolated than we feared: unable to offer our own vision, to rally the people behind our alternative, and to build a very different future.

The old warning is timely: those who cannot – or who refuse to – represent themselves will be represented.


And if that happens, then we would have ended up helping the Liberals and/or the coup plotters gain power.


The alternatives

The tasks are definitely daunting and the dangers are certainly real.

But the alternative is even more horrible to contemplate: So many more Kian delos Santoses are likely to die. So many more of the poor are likely to be exterminated. Not just suspected drug dependents or peddlers but even "suspected" activists or critics will likely be silenced next. And millions more will continue to live unfree, inhuman lives.

This alternative need not happen – but only if we muster the courage to say “Duterte: resign or be ousted!” and only if we build a broader movement behind our larger call: Harangin ang diktadura! Baguhin ang sistema!– Rappler.com

Herbert Docena teaches sociology at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. His views do not necessarily represent the views of said institution.

In 2020, the pioneering broadcast network ABS-CBN will lose its franchise if President Duterte gets his way. But what has he got to do with franchising, a purely congressional business? He has none, of course, but that’s true only in theory.

As is only too obvious in today’s practice, collusion, if not outright conspiracy, characterizes the relationship between the President and Congress, two of the 3 supposedly equal and independent branches of government. The third branch – the judiciary – may not be a relevant player at the moment, but, since news-media franchising is intrinsically a constitutional issue – a freedom issue – it’s bound to be dragged into the fray in the end, thus tested for its own sense of independence.

Apparently, the only reason Duterte wants ABS-CBN out of business is he dislikes its journalism. Anyway, with Congress proving itself a consistent colluder with Duterte – he has not lost a vote in it – it is expected to go along with him and deny the news network a new franchise.

In the hands of a political club like Congress, instead of an independent commission, the authority to bestow franchises is always potentially dicey business, and downright dangerous to a democracy where the applicant is one of the press, government’s natural adversary.   

But why does any media enterprise have to be franchised at all? Why does it have to ask for its allocation of freedom?

Effectively, franchising constitutes curtailment of press freedom, therefore unconstitutional. If franchising is conceded at all, it should be as a merely practical function, one akin to that of an arranger, confined basically to assigning places in a public domain for purposes of keeping order – it may be compared with, say, directing air traffic from an airport tower.

But even that function has been rendered irrelevant by the times – anachronistic. If space in that domain seemed limited before, it was only because technology had not advanced enough to disprove the notion; it has since done so. The unfranchised broadcast bombardment we get from all over the world, from all sorts of cultures, and in all manner of tongues should be proof enough.

But, a man observed to be inordinately fixated on power and vengeance, Duterte still wants ABS-CBN silenced. Understandably, a chill has blown across the media landscape; to Duterte, after all, silencing is a standard solution to anything that assaults his ears. Once, when foul-mouthing the media into silence at a press conference failed yet to satisfy his narcissistic longing to be believed as some ordained messenger of truth and wisdom, he decided to bar them. Some reporters are only thankful to not have suffered worse; Duterte’s capability for taking silencing to extremes is legendary. His war on drugs gives a frightening running illustration: it has taken the lives thousands of drug dealers and addicts.

Not a few news practitioners have admitted to me they feel intimidated, and much of the current journalism does tend to betray that feeling: hard questions go unasked and, as a result, reporting shows critical gaps. Opinion writing is itself timid, thus easily drowned out by the loud and savage and unrelenting torrents from Duterte trolls and bloggers online and conscripts from the mainstream media.

There necessarily is a huge price to pay in freedom for all this fear, this timidity, this default. However understandable, it constitutes a surrender of a measure of press freedom and a betrayal, to the same extent, of the public interest. And, with an adversary like Duterte, the situation can only get worse for anyone who values civility and reason, not to mention freedom, truth, and justice.

The more the press, the supposed vanguard for those values, becomes intimidated, the more Duterte tries to intimidate it. It’s simply the nature of the man, as certified to clinically and as now revealed spectacularly in his presidency.

How, indeed, could the elephant in the room be denied? It’s there rumbling in all its “antisocial, narcissistic” glory; it’s there exhibiting “gross indifference, insensitivity...[and a] grandiose sense of self-entitlement and manipulative behaviors”; and it’s there parading a deviancy all too familiar to the press: a “pervasive tendency to demean, humiliate others and violate their rights and feelings.” – Rappler.com

Ser Davos Seaworth is a character in the popular HBO hit series Game of Thrones, a sword-and-sorcery epic set in the mythical land of Westeros. Already running 7 seasons, the series has garnered a huge local following through the years, with fans invariably relating stories and sub-plots to real-life local personalities and our day-to-day travails in Philippine society and politics. Before becoming a valuable lieutenant of two kings, Ser Davos was the most famous smuggler in King’s Landing, the capital of Westeros, and thereabouts.

Ser Davos is also known in Westeros as the “Onion Knight,” since he earned his royal title when he smuggled onions to a besieged castle, thus saving the king’s brother. However, in exchange for a royal title and his enlistment into the king’s service, Davos had to cut off 4 fingers of one hand, as punishment for his years of smuggling and depriving the crown of its rightful tax and duties on the smuggled goods.

Fans of GOT, as the series is popularly abbreviated, may realize that in real life, however, smugglers rarely get punished, especially well-connected ones. Fans of Ser Davos will be right to protest using his story as a segue to the story of Paolo Duterte, and say Davos is nothing like Polong. Supporters of Paolo Duterte, like Malacañang, will claim that stories about Paolo as the smuggling lord of Davao are all lies. My apology goes to the fans of Ser Davos.

PASG report

The recent drug-smuggling controversy where the name of the presidential son was dragged involve P6.4-billion worth of shabu hidden in metal cylinders that took a metal-grinder to open. A broker who stood as a witness in the Senate investigation claimed that a supposed Davao Group rumored to be led by the younger Duterte was pulling strings at the Bureau of Customs on this particular drug shipment.

But the history of Polong, the alleged smuggling king of Davao, did not start here. (READ: FAST FACTS: Who is Davao City Vice Mayor Paolo Duterte?)

Official records of his involvement in smuggling in Davao surfaced as early as 2007, when the Presidential Anti-Smuggling Group under President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and the NBI, using the same source, tagged him as mastermind, together with a certain Glen Escandor, son of a Colonel Escandor.

Colonel Escandor is known in Davao as the owner of the Royal Mandaya Hotel and the DASIA Security Agency, whose armored van was used by the ISIS/Maute group in their attack and occupation of Marawi. Colonel Escandor is also being linked as a business partner of President Duterte. (READ: Paolo Duterte a 'smuggler'? Trillanes releases documents anew)

The official government memorandum stated that Paolo and Escandor were smuggling sports utility vehicles from the USA and Japan, and sold them in a showroom located near SM Davao City. Together with Paolo’s wife, the two also smuggled used clothing (ukay-ukay), rice, and sugar.

Matobato’s testimony

Later on, direct testimony surfaced during the Senate investigation on the Davao Death Squad (DDS) conducted in 2016 and early this year, where self-confessed DDS members Edgar Matobato and SPO3 Arturo Lascañas revealed that in addition to having personal enemies – such as Cebu City businessman Richard King – killed, Paolo was also directly involved in the smuggling of shiploads of rice, oil, and quite possibly, even drugs.

In both his Senate testimony as well as affidavit submitted to the Ombudsman to support the murder charges he filed against President Duterte as the leader of the DDS, Matobato pointed out that Paolo used the DDS in its smuggling operations as a sideline and source of extra income for the group. He said the group mainly smuggled rice from Taiwan. Matobato himself acted as a bagman for the group, delivering P3 million contained in duffle bags to bribe Customs officials at Davao’s Sasa Wharf. The smuggled used-clothing business is also owned by Paolo’s wife.

Matobato added that Paolo is friends with known Chinese drug lords, including the leader of a carnapping syndicate, as he hangs out with them in exclusive night clubs in Davao City.

Recently, in the course of the recent P6.4-billion shabu smuggling controversy, photos of Paolo with a certain Kenneth Dong and Charlie Tan were circulated in social media. The former has already been implicated in the P6.4-billion shabu smuggling and recently testified at the Senate. Charlie Tan, for his part, is a Taiwanese national who owns a KTV bar in Ecoland, Davao City.

Matobato also claimed that a leader of a carnapping syndicate was saved from assassination by the DDS because he was protected by Paolo.

Drugs in Paolo’s furniture

According to Lascañas in his testimony before the Senate, Paolo once sought his assistance in a supposed entrapment operation involving a shipment of smuggled drugs.

His story went that Paolo’s friend, the Taiwanese Charlie Tan, requested that packages containing drugs be concealed in a container van of furniture shipped from China, with Paolo as the consignee. The furniture and other personal effects were supposedly bought by Paolo from China in time for the inauguration of his new house. Charlie Tan was just using the container van of furniture to hitch his shipment of drugs.

The container van was supposed to be delivered to the barangay hall of Catalunan Grande, Davao City, where Paolo was the Barangay Captain. Before Lascañas apprehended the container van containing Paolo’s furniture and Tan’s suspected shipment of drugs, Paolo called him and asked Lascañas to just let him take care of the container van. Paolo said “pa-arbor na lang.” And that was the last Lascañas heard of Charlie Tan’s shipment of drugs concealed in Paolo’s furniture.

Malacañang’s challenge

Amidst the resurfacing of his son’s name in drug smuggling, President Duterte challenged the public to show him the affidavit implicating his son in the smuggling of the P6.4-billion of shabu, and he will resign.

Malacañang spokesperson Ernesto Abella said that Paolo is being tried by publicity, and that the photographs showing him in drinking sprees and other convivial occasions with Charlie Tan and Kenneth Dong don’t prove anything.

Abella challenged the public to file charges against Paolo if the accusations are true.

What Duterte and Abella are not saying is that there is already an affidavit – in fact, two affidavits and recorded testimonies in Senate investigations – and at least one criminal complaint already filed with the Ombudsman against Paolo. These affidavits and testimonies are those of Edgar Matobato and Arturo Lascañas, attesting under oath that Paolo Duterte is the smuggling lord of Davao City, specializing in the smuggling of SUVs, rice, oil, and used clothing, and paying off Customs officials in the amount of P3 million per shipment.

Telltale signs of his involvement in drug trafficking are contained in Lascañas’ testimony about drugs suspected to be hidden in his shipment of furniture from China.

Ombudsman complaint

On December 2016, Matobato already submitted his affidavit to the Ombudsman in support of his criminal complaint for murder, kidnapping, torture, and crimes against humanity against President Duterte, Paolo, PNP chief Ronald dela Rosa, and 25 other members of the Davao Death Squad. The affidavit includes Matobato’s allegations of Paolo’s smuggling activities in Davao City.

As such, in so far as accusations of Paolo’s involvement in smuggling are concerned, there is already a case filed before the Ombudsman. It is now only a matter of further fact-finding investigation left for the Ombudsman to conduct.

Hopefully, before the one-year anniversary of the filing of Matobato’s criminal complaint, and before the retirement of Ombudsman Carpio-Morales early next year, a preliminary investigation is conducted and criminal charges are filed against Paolo before the Sandiganbayan.

'Untouchables'

Of course, it may take a long time before justice catches up with the so-called smuggling lord of Davao City.

Maybe not during the reign of his father, whose first promise was to kill his own son if he was proven to be involved in drugs, a promise which was later on downgraded to him resigning as President.

For the son of the Davao Mayor and now Philippine President who has distinguished himself all over the world with his swift brand of street justice, there appears to be no end in sight for the invocation of due process and presumption of innocence in favor of Paolo Duterte.

All of a sudden, innocence in the absence of proof and no punishment without a fair trial are again the norms, as the extrajudicial killing of 12,000 (and counting) drug suspects who never saw the inside of a courtroom is conveniently forgotten.

There are now two kinds of justice in the Philippines. One for the ordinary scum of the earth, and then another for the untouchable kind of scum. For these people, we would be lucky to even witness the Westeros king’s justice of lopping off the smuggler lord’s fingers.

More often than not, criminals in government eventually find a way to consolidate power in an absolute manner. And when they do, they become what we call "Untouchables." When that happens, neither law nor justice can touch them, not even the Magdalo warriors of the Bureau of Customs. – Rappler.com

Senator Leila de Lima, a fierce critic of President Rodrigo Duterte, has been detained at the Philippine National Police Custodial Center in Camp Crame since her arrest on drug-related charges on February 24, 2017. She is a former justice secretary and chairperson of the Commission on Human Rights.

What is the relationship between fact and fiction? This question has a long history, but in the age of so-called fake news and the manic speed of social media, it has taken on a renewed urgency. What follows are my very sketchy attempts to sort through this question.

Fact and fiction are usually mutually opposed.  We take one to be true, and the other to be false; one to be genuine, authentic and given, the other to be a tissue of lies, a collection of fakes and a pile of deceits.

Yet this opposition is a fairly modern one. It is also pretty arbitrary. Fact is in fact semantically and etymologically related to fiction. The former derives from the Latin root, facere, to make, to do. The latter, from the Latin fictionem , "a fashioning or feigning," which in turn comes from the verb fingere "to shape, form, devise, feign," originally "to knead or form out of clay," suggesting the relationship of fiction to handicraft. Fact and fiction thus entail acts of making and doing, giving shape to events as well as to the makers of such events.

Interestingly enough, both fact and fiction are also related to the word "fetish" which is from Portuguese feitiço, "charm, sorcery," the same as the Spanish hechizo and Italian fattizio: "made by art, artificial, skillfully contrived." All 3 Romance language words are related to the Latin factīcius, "factitious" which again harks back to the twin notions of fact and fiction. In addition, "fetish" suggests something of their potential to awe and inspire, fascinate and fool. As fetish, fact and fiction can have a powerful hold on those who seize and are seized by them.

We can see this potential in the fact that fiction, once believed, can become an article of faith.  It can become true to one who subscribes to it, demanding loyalty to the community of other believers. In this sense, we can think of religion and the nation to be made up of sublime and tragic fictions designed to make sense of fatality and mortality. As Benedict Anderson once said about the nation, it has the magic to transform chance into destiny, providing a narrative for a collective life beyond individual deaths, while providing a moral language with which to distinguish good from evil.* Powerful fictions are powerful precisely to the extent that they furnish the foundations for solidarity and shared beliefs. And to this extent that such beliefs are fetishized – held to be unassailable facts that exercise absolute authority over one’s life – they would also include a belief in the necessity of common sacrifice in face of common enemies and a commitment to their annihilation.

But there is also a sense in which fact is seen as truth only when opposed to fiction. We can see this in European medieval and early modern notions of fact. Facts, for example, are synonymous with what actually, as against what could have, happened. In the context of the law, facts are always the facts of the crime and the guilt incurred in their commission. Hence, the common expression, "after the fact."

Legally then, facts are crucial for establishing the evidentiary basis for ascertaining guilt and innocence. As integral aspects of a juridical apparatus, they are meant to deliver justice while at the same time contain criminality by defining and designating the criminal. Facts are thus an assemblage that furnishes the basis for social redress. For this reason, they are instruments for discipline and punishment of those individuals pronounced guilty by those with the privilege to say so.

Indentured to the law, facts then serve the interests of knowledge and power in the production of the guilty individual and the discourse of "criminal types" – so-called outlaws (like drug addicts) which are seen to be sub-human and thus undeserving of recognition, much less human rights. Thanks to facts, law individualizes crime at the expense of their social context in order to reproduce social order and hierarchy. Fetishizing facts for the sake of justice, the law invests in structures of injustice.

In the wake of Descartes, facts became the prelude to truth.

From this critical perspective, truth is never obvious. It must necessarily submit itself to the doubting subject and so to the processes of investigation and verification. Such processes include the experimentation with and the mathematization of factual occurrences, their qualification from mere sensory phenomenon, their quantification and their application to the world at large.

In the same vein, among modern historians, a fact can never exist in isolation or in an endless series, as in a chronicle. Rather, they are subjected to critical appraisal. Their sources must be verified, their significance contextualized, and their effects and meanings subject to interpretation and re-interpretation. For historians then, facts are not yet the truth, but the necessary building blocks for approaching the truth. But because truth itself changes with the emergence of new facts along with the uncovering of spurious ones (e.g., forgeries), the very act of interpretation is always already a revision of earlier interpretations. Debates over the meaning of facts, much less their provenance is open-ended so that historical truth is endlessly contested.

What does all this tell us? To me, this suggests that fact and fiction are both related not only to the fetishism of power but also to the question of truth. This is really what is at stake: what is the truth? More important: what is our relationship to truth? What does it mean to tell the truth? What kind of practice is truth-telling?

To know the truth is to be enlightened and therefore to be free. But to be free is also to be bound to the duty of truth-telling. Seen from the perspective of truth-telling as a practice with real material effects, writing necessarily becomes a political and ethical act. It is ethical to the extent that it entails governing one’s conduct in such a way as to speak the truth. It is political insofar as speaking the truth entails a certain risk and confrontation with those in positions of power.

The philosopher Michel Foucault has written about the ethical and political task of truth-telling that every act of writing entails. He reminds us of the Greek notion of truth-telling called parrhesia. What is parrhesia?

For the Greeks, it was less a metaphysic of truth, as if truth was something transcendent, but a pragmatics of truth telling that, above all, requires risk and courage. It entails showing and telling everything, holding nothing back even and especially when it is dangerous. Usually this means addressing someone greater and more powerful than yourself, and so incurring the risk of their violent response.

Foucault sums up the concept of parrhesia in the following way:

"So you see, the parrhesiaste is someone who takes a risk… If, in a political debate, an orator risks losing his popularity because his opinions are contrary to the majority's opinion, or his opinions may usher in a political scandal, he uses parrhesia…. Parrhesia, then, is linked to courage in the face of danger …More precisely, parrhesia is a verbal activity in which a speaker expresses his personal relationship to truth, and risks his life because he recognizes truth-telling as a duty to improve or help other people (as well as himself). In parrhesia, the speaker uses his freedom and chooses frankness instead of persuasion, truth instead of falsehood or silence, the risk of death instead of life and security, criticism instead of flattery, and moral duty instead of self-interest and moral apathy." **

From the perspective of parrhesia, the relationship among fact, fiction and fetish raises a number of questions: How do you write truthfully in whatever genre you are writing? What makes for a truthful fiction that exposes the pretenses of power or reveals long-hidden problems? How does it allow for the repressed to return and to be addressed? What makes fictions powerful truths that people risk their lives for? Under what conditions must we confront these powerful fictions? How do we inquire not so much into their veracity as to their effects on our lives?

How can we fashion new fictions and to what ends – for example, fictions that convey the resistant social facts of mutual caring and compassion in the face of dominant political fictions that insist on the need for murderous vengeance and summary executions? What other kinds of fictions can be spun from the contingent, fragile facts of our humanity? Indeed, in the face of capitalist predation and climate catastrophe, how can such fictions put in question the limits and the power of certain ideas about humanity in relation to the non-human and the natural? Finally, how to turn the fetish of violence inherent in the fictions of power into the truth-telling practice of caring for the self and the other in all its otherness? – Rappler.com

Vicente L. Rafael teaches at the University of Washington in Seattle.

*See Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, London: Verso, 1983.

**See Michel Foucault, Fearless Speech, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 15-16. For a fuller treatment, see Foucault, The Courage of Truth: The Government of Self and Others II; Lectures at the Collège de France, 1983—1984, trans. by Graham Burchell, NY: Picador, 2012.

In truth I really wanted to decry the death of Kian Loyd Delos Santos, a Grade 11, 17-year-old boy, who was murdered by police forces last August 16, 2017. I wanted to give my support to groups seeking to end the killings related to the ongoing drug war. But I realized, based on the arguments I have been receiving, that I really have no right. I realized that I am a hypocrite who remains silent on so may other things.

List of sins

Let me list my shortcomings.

When I mention Kian delos Santos, I fail to also mention the suffering of so many others. After all, I have not denounced the ongoing humanitarian disaster in Marawi for some time now. So I was going to do that to gain some integrity. But on second thought, maybe I don’t have the right to say anything because I haven’t really been to the evacuation centers of Marawi and actually given out food and water and clothing. Besides, maybe I really don’t have the right to say anything because I am not from Mindanao, much less from Marawi.

And even if I was from Mindanao and had helped in the relocation areas, I still would not have the right to criticize government over the handling of Marawi because I am not a victim of terrorism myself. And even if I denounce terrorism now, what have I said about it in the past?

But even If I had fulfilled all these requirements for the right to say something about Marawi and I could prove my genuine sympathy for the suffering, I still could not call for justice for Kian delos Santos and all the victims of the war. Not until I prove that I actually am concerned for those who were raped or killed by drug addicts.

Now I have been working with rape victims regardless of whether they were raped by addicts or not, but that is really not enough. After all, I haven’t called for, nor attended a rally for the victims. So I guess that I am not giving equal importance to the matter and therefore I am really biased. And I understand now that the only cure for this bias is to be raped by addicts.

But then even if I could prove to you all that I have had a sterling track record of sympathy and action for the victims of drug addiction, the victims of terrorism, the plight of the people of Marawi, the victims of the drug war – still, I have no integrity calling for justice for all these people. After all, I have common cause with the Catholic Church on several of these issues.

Now why should having common cause with the Catholic Church on certain issues prove that I am an unworthy critic? Because the Catholic Church has a history of sexual abuse.

And more sins

But even if I were to prove to you that I have actually been critical of the priests who are abusive, I still cannot be believed when I denounce the death of Kian, the other victims of the drug war, the miseries of the people of Marawi, the rape and death due to drugs.

Because  what have I done to denounce corruption? So now I wish to denounce corruption with all my might and express concern over the shenanigans at the Bureau of Customs that allowed P6.4-billion worth of shabu to enter the country.

But then I thought, “why only now?” Corruption has been going on in the past so maybe I should first show evidence of my disgust over corruption in past administrations before I criticize.

But even if I were the kind of person who is critical of abusive priests, critical of the current corruption  in the Bureau of customs, critical of corruption in previous administrations, sympathetic to the victims of drug addicts, sympathetic to the family of Kian, sympathetic to the victims of terrorism, sympathetic to the suffering of the people of Marawi, still this would not be enough.

Because who did I vote for in the last election? Did I vote for yet another corrupt elite person or did I vote for the candidate who is trying to do something for the people and who has put his life on the line for the country? What, by the way, have I ever done for the country? Or the environment and climate change or world peace?

Furthermore, I should examine every critical impulse I have because maybe I am being critical because I am just a hater.

I am so unworthy

It is not enough that I am an ordinary citizen, someone who reads and tries to be informed and a professor at a government university who has always thought that it is part of her duty to hold government accountable. Certainly this is not enough.

I apologize for not having a thousand mouths that would scream about all the ills simultaneously. Or should it be a million mouths?

I apologize that my heart is not big enough to have compassion for every suffering human being at every moment.

I apologize for not experiencing all the victimizations for which I was seeking justice.

As a way of repentance I shall henceforth stop all criticism of this government until I am able to achieve moral perfection.

Or perhaps, I shall go in search of that perfect person who has denounced everything that needs to be denounced, worked on everything that needs to be solved. Someone who has never had a single misinformed opinion or shallow motivation in her or his life. I will start by looking among those who keep telling me how unworthy I am for criticizing. That is very likely where I will find this paragon of virtue.

When I find this person I shall tell each and every Filipino to just obey this person.

That would be my real contribution to the nation.

A small P.S.

From what I have said, it is obvious that I have not found the perfect person, not even our President. And I really apologize for saying this because I have no right to criticize. – Rappler.com

Sylvia Estrada Claudio, MD, PhD, teaches Women and Development Studies at the College of Social Work and Community Development, University of the Philippines.

Hindi orig si Pangulong Rodrigo Duterte sa pang-aalipusta at pagtira sa media. Nauna sa kanya si Hugo Chavez ng Venezuela at si Vladimir Putin ng Russia na sistematikong nanggipit ng mga tumutuligsang mamamahayag sa kanilang bansa, 'di lamang sa mga talumpati kundi pati na rin sa mas epektibong corporate takeover.

Bakit galit si Duterte sa media? Sabi niya, korapt at bayaran daw ang mga ito, isang mensahe na umalingawngaw sa social media habang nakaangkas sa state-sponsored propaganda machinery ng Diehard Duterte Supporters o DDS.

Ipinanganak ang taguring "presstitute." Ang dating pinagpipitagan, siyang paboritong i-bully ngayon sa internet. 

Nagbenta ng shares sa pangunahing pahayagan ang pamilyang survivor ng mga atake ni Erap. Ang isang broadcast giant naman ay tila nag-aalanganin sa pagpitik dahil hostage ng gobyerno ang prankisa nito. Ang ilan namang media outfits ay "praise-centers" ng gobyerno at nagmimistulang crony press dahil sa interes ng kanilang mga may-ari.

Ayon sa dean ng Ateneo School of Government, matagal na proseso ang pagtataguyod ng tiwala sa mga institusyon, pero mabilis daw itong maagnas. Isa sa pinaka-pinagkakatiwalaang institusyon, mabilis na nalugmok ang propesyon sa harap ng walang-patid na atake mula nang maupo ang Pangulo. 

Marami sa mga ipinupukol sa Philippine media ay may pinanghuhugutan tulad ng korapsyon at envelopmental journalism. Ang mga mantsang ito ay matagal nang inexpose ng mga kabaro nila at sinipa sa mga prestihiyosong mga newsrooms. Pero patuloy ang pagsisikap na maglinis.

Sa kabuuan, matapos ang diktaduryang Marcos, nananatili ang media sa ating bansa na malaya, nagsisikap maging patas, at higit sa lahat, handang isiwalat ang katotohanan at kalabisan ng mga nasa pwesto ng kapangyarihan. Sa kabila pa ito ng pagiging isa sa mga pinakadelikadong trabaho sa Pilipinas.

Higit kailanman, ito ang panahon upang lalong pag-ibayuhin ng media ang pagrereport at pagiging malaya sa anumang interes o impluwensiyang kontra sa ikabubuti ng taumbayan. Transparency and accountability– yan ang panlaban sa kalawang ng makitid at hindi pulidong pamamahayag.

Sa loob ng isang taong panunungkulan ni Presidente Duterte, malinaw na hindi nagmumula ang galit niya sa media sa umano'y pagiging bayaran nito. Ang pinagpuputok ng butse niya ay kung ikaw ay friendly o hindi. Asar siya sa mga tumutuligsa sa kanyang pamamalakad at nangangahas himayin at suriin ang kanyang kilos bilang public official.

Bakit mahalagang manatiling malaya ang media? Dahil ang tinaguriang "fourth estate" ang nagsisilbing check and balance sa kapangyarihan ng mga hinirang at hinalal na mga opisyal. Dahil kapag hindi na pinagkakatiwalaan ang media, walang ibang magagawa ang taumbayan kundi maniwala sa mga nasa poder.

Sa isang panayam sa Rappler, ipinahayag ni dating Pangulong Benigno Aquino III ang "nakabibinging katahimikan" ng mga peryodista sa ilalim ng administrasyong Duterte. Nakababahala ang kaganapang ito.

At ito ang pinakamatinding dahilan: Kapag nabusalan ang media, lalong lalawak ang espasyo ng awtoritaryanismo. Kapag nanahimik ang mga mamamahayag, mangingibabaw ang fake news, ang pilipit na katwiran, at hihina ang boses ng katotohanan.

Pangulong Duterte, hindi media ang kaaway mo kundi katiwalian at kalabisan. Kaaway mo ang mga pulis na pumapatay ng mga Kian sa ngalan ng giyera mo laban sa droga. Kaaway mo ang mga appointee na nagbibigay ng kahihiyan sa 'yo at nagpapadismaya sa taumbayan. Kaaway mo ang saradong pag-iisip, de kahong mga kokote, at higit sa lahat, ang paniniwalang ikaw – sampu ng iyong mga katoto – lamang ang tama.

Kaaway mo ang mga nagpapalaganap ng kaisipan at paniniwalang ang pagtuligsa sa 'yo ay pagtataksil sa bayan. Kaaway mo ang mga bumubulong na pare-pareho dapat ang ating sinasabi at iniisip. Kaaway mo ang mga nagsasabing dapat na sunud-sunuran lang ang media sa 'yo. Dahil pinapatay nila ang demokrasya. – Rappler.com

MANILA, Philippines – In this episode of Basagan ng Trip, historian and professor Lisandro "Leloy" Claudio invites tech entrepreneur Oliver Segovia to discuss the issues surrounding the Philippine government and ride-sharing companies such as Uber.

Uber's suspension has just been lifted by the Land Transportation Franchising and Regulatory Board.

MORE ON 'BASAGAN NG TRIP'

On using the term 'Filipino'
Is human rights relevant to Filipinos?
Whom to trust – journalists or social media stars?
What liberalism, LP, and yellow really mean 
Is Islam violent?
Why a depreciating Philippine peso might be a good thing

In August, President Rodrigo Duterte signed the Executive Order 183 to abolish the Negros Island Region (NIR).

Former presidential candidate Mar Roxas bemoaned the abolition since he pressured former president Benigno Aquino III to create it in 2015.

I think President Duterte made the right decision.

The Negros Island Region was probably not a good idea in the first place, for the following reasons:

Cost. It would be incredibly expensive to set up – P19 billion or roughly $371,000,000.

Numbers. It would only comprise two provinces: Negros Occidental and Negros Oriental. No other region in the country has only two provinces. What kind of “region” is that?

Contrasts within. The two provinces are completely distinct: Negros Occidental is mainly Hiligaynon-speaking, whereas Negros Oriental is mainly Cebuano speaking. Occidental has a much bigger population than Oriental. Occidental has a much higher income than Oriental.

Similarity with others. Negros Occidental has more in common with the rest of the Western Visayas region, from which it was temporarily severed, than with Negros Oriental. Likewise, Negros Oriental has more in common with the rest of Central Visayas, from which it was severed and now reunited with.

Language. Putting two provinces together that speak different languages is problematic. Regional offices would be forced to recruit people from both provinces, and staff would not be able to communicate effectively in their respective languages. They would form linguistic factions, or be forced to communicate in Tagalog or English with each other.

This situation could erode and marginalize their native languages, as has happened with the merger of Pangasinan province with the Ilocos region. The Pangasinan and Ilocano languages are both threatened by the Tagalog language, as the latter dominates media, education, and now the regional government. India avoided this problem by redrawing state lines along linguistic boundaries in 1956. Mar Roxas wanted to do the opposite, undermining the cultural and linguistic heritage of both provinces. 

Convenience. Supporters of NIR said that it would be more convenient for Negrenses. Their plan was to locate some agencies in Bacolod (capital of Negros Occidental), and some in Dumaguete (capital of Negros Oriental). But would it be more convenient actually? Although these cities are on the same island, they are actually really far apart.

One has to take an arduous bus ride of up to 6 hours and cross a mountain chain to get from one to the other. By contrast, Iloilo (the center of government agencies for the Western Visayas region) is very near Bacolod – less than an hour away by boat! Cebu City, meanwhile, is faster to get to from Dumaguete than to Bacolod. The fact that Dumaguete and Bacolod are on the same island does not mean that they are convenient for one another, especially considering that Negros is one of the biggest islands in the country and sea travel is often more direct than land transport.

Due process. It is ironic that Senator Bam Aquino said, “We are disappointed with the decision to abolish the Negros Island Region amidst the Negrenses' appeal for unification." What appeal? The truth is that Negrenses were largely ambivalent, if not skeptical, of the move to create NIR. NIR was created by Executive Order, not a democratic referendum.

The President was lobbied by powerful politicians, not the populace. These politicians collected signatures from residents to create an impression of public support. I spoke with an education administrator who was invited to one such signature collection drives. According to him, the program consisted of a few speeches, dances, songs, and free food, with no debate or Q&A for the audience. And what he thought was the attendance sheet turned out to be the petition, containing all their signatures!

Given this haphazard and possibly duplicitous campaign, I don’t think we can confidently say that the creation of NIR actually represented the people’s wishes.     

Who benefits? The governors of the respective Negros provinces pushed for the creation of NIR, as well as local congressmen. Did they fully consider the geographic, linguistic, and economic divides between them, or were they more attracted to the power and money that could be gained from the government agencies’ move to their backyard? They would have more influence over official appointments, what government projects were approved, who should be contracted to do them, how much should be spent, and more. 

Viable alternative. Keeping the regional government headquarters in Cebu and Iloilo does not mean poor service for Negrenses. A viable alternative is having provincial field offices established and/or strengthened in both Negros provinces so that more services can be delivered directly to the people.

Not too late. Little has been done since 2015 to make the Negros Island Region a functioning reality. Most government agencies have not yet created NIR offices, and those that have been operating with a skeleton, even volunteer staff.  Thus, it was wise of the President to make a decision now before the situation became more expensive, messier, and entangled.

The abolition of the Negros Island Region will, of course, be bad news to some, and will have some negative impacts. But, arguably, it was the most sensible decision. – Rappler.com 

Firth McEachern has lived in the Philippines for more than 7 years. He has worked as a consultant for local government and international development organizations, taught at the college level, and is frequently tapped as a resource person for education and management trainings. He has a Bachelor degree from Harvard University and a Masters degree from Ateneo de Manila University

The tragic death of 17-year-old Kian delos Santos is a chilling example of police abuses in President Duterte’s bloody war on drugs.

Yet our leaders seem bent on continuing it. The President himself said that, while Kian’s death was “bad”, he will still push through with his “sworn duty” to rid the country of drugs.

In this article, we claim that this is a grave mistake because drug wars are inherently unwinnable. They rest on bad economics, spawn perverse incentives, and criminalize poverty.

We need to stop the President’s drug war now and disabuse ourselves of the notion that it will ever work. Otherwise, more Filipinos will just suffer Kian’s fate.

The drug war is based on bad economics

The main problem with drug wars is that they are inherently unwinnable.

To see why, remember that drug policy aims to reduce consumption of illegal drugs. But the consumption of anything – whether drugs, burgers, or movies – is a function of supply and demand. To reduce consumption, you want to reduce supply, demand, or both.

A war on drugs is a supply-side intervention through and through. And basic economics tells us that reducing supply – without reducing demand first – will necessarily jack up prices. Furthermore, since drugs are addicting, higher prices won’t reduce consumption proportionally.

If you do the math, a large increase in price coupled by a small decrease in consumption means larger revenues and profits for drug producers. In turn, more money means more personnel, more weapons, and more bribes, and these spawn violence and corruption.

Simply put, drug lords thrive where drug wars exist, and such policy makes them harder to combat than ever before. (READ: War on drugs? Other countries focus on demand, not supply)

It is therefore unsurprising that, 13 months into President Duterte’s war on drugs, a shabu (crystal meth) shipment worth P6.4 billion has managed to breeze through our borders with the complicity of customs personnel.

Even the President recently admitted that eradicating shabu is turning out to be next to impossible. Speaking about his promise to do away with shabu, he said, “Ngayon, alam ko na na hindi ito matutupad, na hindi talaga matapos ‘to.” (Now I know it won’t be fulfilled, that this really will not end.)

The drug war spawns perverse incentives

Because drug wars are inherently unwinnable, governments often come up with perverse incentives just to show the people they are “winning” it, one way or another.

Consider the statistics regularly reported in the government’s #RealNumbersPH information campaign. Figure 1 below assembles a curious set of figures that purport to highlight success in the President’s drug war. 

Figure 1. Source: PDEA website.

But are these the correct measures by which to determine the drug war’s success?

When more than 1.3 million people have “surrendered,” is that a sign of lower drug consumption, or are people just afraid of being suspected by the authorities?

When more than 3,000 have died, are we that much closer to the permanent eradication of illegal drugs?

By and large, the Duterte government seems to be equating more drug-related arrests and deaths with more success in its drug war. After the recent “one-time, big-time” anti-drug operations in Bulacan, the President said that the 32 resulting deaths were “good” (“maganda ‘yun”). “If we can kill another 32 every day then maybe we can reduce what ails this country.”

Bold remarks like these – coming from no less than the President – have spawned the host of deadly incentives we’ve seen and heard of, such as planted evidence, quotas of surrenderees, falsified police reports, and cash rewards.

Several reports say that these incentives cascade straight from the Palace down to the bottom of the police hierarchy.

With incentives like these, the catastrophic death toll of the drug war – which now numbers between 3,451 to 13,000 depending on who you ask – really comes as no surprise.

It’s time we refocus how we measure success in our efforts against illegal drugs: from arrests, seizures, and deaths, we ought to focus more on curbing drug use, ending the stigmatization of users, and capturing drug lords.

Otherwise, with perverse goals, more abuses will only come from the President’s drug policy.

The drug war criminalizes poverty

Finally – and this is perhaps the most deplorable aspect of all – drug wars systematically target the poor and effectively criminalize poverty.

In their recent reports, both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch said that President Duterte’s war on drugs is really a “war on the poor”.

They closely followed dozens of cases nationwide, and found that nearly all victims lived in slum neighborhoods and informal settlements. Almost all victims lived in precarious economic conditions, and were either unemployed or worked menial jobs.

A bulk of people killed in the drug war were also parents, and insofar as many of them were breadwinners, they have left behind thousands of children impoverished. The latest estimate counts 18,000 drug war orphans as of December 2016, and this figure could very well be higher now.

Then, of course, dozens of victims are poor children themselves. Based on the Children’s Legal Rights and Development Center (CLRDC), as many as 54 minors – including Kian delos Santos – have been killed in the drug war from July 1, 2016 to August 15, 2017.

This anti-poor drug war thwarts the nation’s pursuit of inclusive growth and development.

But at a more basic level, the way it doesn’t discriminate between poor adults and poor children, this drug war has turned into a virtual genocide of the poor, and must be stopped.

Before more Kians die, stop the drug war now

Kian’s death showed us that the President’s war on drugs has snowballed into a full-blown humanitarian crisis, the likes of which we’ve never seen before.

But did we really have to witness Kian’s death before we learned our lesson?

Instead of heeding the global experience – that drug wars do not work and demand-side interventions work better – we deluded ourselves into thinking that we can do a better job at this drug war. Now, just 13 months later, we’re paying a heavy toll for such a mistake.

Even more troubling is that – despite their supposed outrage over Kian’s death – our leaders seem unwilling to stop the war on drugs, even just momentarily to re-evaluate it.

This is a grave mistake. Insanity, they say, is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Pushing through with this drug war, and expecting the senseless deaths to stop, betrays our leaders’ insanity.

Let’s stop pretending that we can ever win this war on drugs, or that there’s such a thing as a non-violent war on drugs.

Instead, let’s move on and demand that our leaders pursue alternative strategies, such as attacking the drug problem from a public health perspective.

Otherwise, more children will only suffer Kian’s fate, and blood will be on the hands of every Filipino who will consent to the drug war’s continuation. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Follow JC on Twitter: @jcpunongbayan.

I hope President Duterte can read this.

Step 1 is to stop the supply, which flows from China, finished goods or raw materials. If they are gloating for stopping the recent "massive" smuggling of P6.4 billion worth of shabu, they are in for a surprise. That is not a milestone. There are hundreds of ways to smuggle shabu. It may even be just the tip of the iceberg.

Cut shabu at the source with a bilateral agreement with China on an integrated coordinated intelligence, police, customs, coast guard, immigration effort. It may not work all the way, but halfway is good enough. Half of them may be bribed but the good guys can monitor the bad guys. Once the smuggling is checked, there is no need to run after shabu factories which will have no more raw materials to process. Once shabu reaches our shores, it is hard to contain. The thing is to let it not reach our shores.

Step 2 is to stop the LGUs into drugs. The Manila Times came up with an inventory of mayors and vice mayors suspected of involvement in shabu operations. Four killed, 4 arrested, 52 others in Duterte’s list (13 in Luzon, 14 in Visayas, 25 in Mindanao) as of July 2017. The profound effect of local government units (LGUs) on shabu proliferation is mind-boggling. LGUs into shabu are the biggest culprit. The bad policemen, private drug lords and financiers polarize toward the leadership of local government. When Albuera Mayor Rolando Espinosa and Ozamiz City Mayor Reynaldo Parojinog were neutralized, the shabu empire in Leyte and Misamis must have shrunk dramatically for awhile. Maybe they are back.

The generals into shabu are also a problem. Duterte identified 5 generals. There may be more, as there is little intel. Good generals may not point at bad generals. They may be fewer but their clout is in the guns and armies to protect the shabu industry.

Why do you think the mayors did not stop even after reading about the killings and arrests of many mayors? Why did they ignore the warnings of Duterte that they may be next? The answer is simple – the money is so big, the temptation so great, that it is worth the risk for the greedy. They are super-confident as they hire large private armies which they easily can afford, or get protection from the generals, and they are "safe".

Step 3.  Stop the killings of urban poor kids. Just run after the mayors, and half of the problem is solved. While the police are picking off addicts at the urban poor level by the hundreds, the drug lords still flood the place with ample supply. As the police sweep the garbage, they do not stop the people who scatter more garbage. Focus on pushers, suppliers, not users.

Step 4. Understand the true nature of shabu addiction to win the war on drugs. A stage 4 shabu addict is helpless to contain his own addiction. He will risk death to satisfy his unbearable desire. He will die for a high. Stage 5 addiction is psychosis or madness when shabu eventually destroys brain cells on a massive scale. It is easy to rape a sister or threaten a mother who refuses to give money. Shabu is directly related to heinous crimes.

The mayors do it out of greed, the urban poor kids do it out of sheer desire. Pushers are also addicts. It is easy to conclude that there are mayors and generals who are addicts, the pushers-ushers who are dangerous because they will get other addicts to finance their addiction. They are the catalyst to rapid shabu growth. They employ brinkmanship when they are high.

Finally, President Duterte’s rehab center in Nueva Ecija financed by China, which presently accommodates 35,000 is not a rehab center but a "soft jail". It is bigger than Bilibid by far. At the growth rate of even, say a pessimistic thousand a day, it will be congested very soon. It may even follow the footsteps of Bilibid to house secret shabu factories smuggled out as a major supply line. Money talks.

Step 5. Rehab centers are better run by gentle people like nuns rather than soldiers. And they should be decentralized, 1,000 scattered in different provinces, 10 to 30 addicts per center. The Church should have a big role in this, rehab centers at the parish level. Addicts need to be loved and treated gently as a solution to addiction, not punished or whipped. They need monastic ambience so they can pray for healing.

How far are we in winning the war on drugs? Very far, indeed, even as thousands have been killed and the United Nations and international human rights groups hound us? Many nations have tried for many years and have failed. Even in the US, which is resilient in containing the menace, has failed all these years.

They can only contain it but not eradicate it. Duterte corrected himself in his time frame to eradicate shabu. He will correct himself again. It is a never-ending endeavor. There is no such thing as total rehab. Many factors are irreversible. A friend at the gate can destroy a whole year of painstaking rehab. The thing is to stop 1) the supply coming in, and 2) its spread and growth thru the LGUs. That is the best Duterte can do. – Rappler.com

Bernie V. Lopez is a seasoned columnist, writing in the last 20 years for various newspapers. He was a freelance director-scriptwriter of news documentaries for television too and was a Communications Professor at the Ateneo Graduate School of Business. He is in the healing ministry of Sr. Raquel Reodica, RVM. You may email him at eastwindreplyctr@gmail.com.

(Sing to the tune of "Seasons of Love")

One hundred and ninety million pesos from Uber
One hundred and ninety million hours on the road
One hundred and ninety million pesos from Uber
But we're still stuck here, the traffic's still slow.

– Rappler.com

Artwork by Ernest John Fiestan
Text by Marguerite de Leon

#FridayFeels is a cartoon series by the Rappler Creatives Team. Cathartic, light, but relevant, it's a welcome break from your heavy news feed! You can pitch illustration ideas by sending a message to the Rappler Facebook page.