The House of Representatives’ quad committee is set to resume its inquiry into the Duterte administration’s war on drugs on Thursday. It remains unclear whether former president Rodrigo Duterte will appear, as he recently did in the Senate Blue Ribbon subcommittee hearing. In that hearing, Duterte, amid a mix of admissions and defiance, reiterated his familiar stance on human rights, declaring, “Itong mga critics ko, their concern is human rights. My concern is human life.”
This statement is classic Duterte: a populist appeal to the “common tao’s” sense of justice. His message is crafted to resonate with people who perceive the drug war as necessary for public safety. I witnessed this firsthand recently. While in a mall restroom on October 28, I saw a man listening to the live stream of the Senate hearing on his phone. He then eagerly discussed Duterte’s return to the national stage with a stranger, who expressed a wish for Duterte to return to Malacañang.
Indeed, Duterte’s stance of favoring ‘human life’ over ‘human rights’ has deep roots in the fears and misconceptions that many Filipinos hold, bolstered by unfounded propaganda on social media that claims drug-related crime decreased during Duterte’s tenure and has since surged. Duterte’s populist rhetoric taps into this climate, converting public fear into a sense of loyalty and even nostalgia.
There was actually little new in Duterte’s Senate appearance on October 28; instead, it showcased his skill in performative politics. His appearance reminded me of the documentary “The Trial of Ratko Mladi?”, which I show in my Human Rights Law classes. Mladi?, a charismatic former Bosnian Serb general, was ultimately convicted of crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague. Despite his popularity among his followers, Mladi? was ultimately held accountable by a robust international court. In the Philippines, however, the absence of similarly rigorous mechanisms raises questions about whether Duterte will ever face justice at home.
In the Senate, only Senator Risa Hontiveros asked hard, pointed questions, while other senators showed surprising deference to Duterte. This deferential stance transformed the Senate hearing into a stage for Duterte’s performance, with some even dubbing it the “Senate inquiry that turned the tide.”
The contrast between the ICTY’s treatment of Mladi? and the handling so far of Philippine institutions of the probe into Duterte’s drug war underscores a larger issue: accountability for human rights violations often fails in domestic contexts where political loyalty and public sentiment influence legislative and judicial actions.
History reveals that human rights abuses are most likely to occur during times of societal pressure, be it economic hardship, political instability, or heightened crime. In his book “The Anatomy of Fascism”, Robert Paxton examines how authoritarian leaders justify oppressive measures by framing them as necessary for national security or public safety.
This historical context is crucial because it pushes us to examine the institutions that allowed human rights abuses to happen. While it may seem that Duterte and his people are now being held accountable, this shift owes less to the strength of our rule-of-law institutions than to changing political winds. Today, Duterte faces scrutiny, but these same institutions --subject to the prevailing political climate-- could just as easily revert to protecting him should public opinion or political winds shift once again.
As it stands, I don’t have much faith in domestic institutions to address the crimes against humanity during Duterte’s drug war. The bigger question is not only whether the abusers will face accountability, but also whether we will strengthen our institutions to prevent future leaders from exploiting societal pressures to justify human rights violations.