Duterte Administration

INTRODUCTION

Within weeks of his inauguration as president of the Philippines in June 2016, Rodrigo R. Duterte became the most
internationally known Filipino leader since Ferdinand Marcos, the country’s infamous dictator, and Corazon Aquino, the
iconic housewife-turned-president who championed the restoration of democracy in 1986. A great deal of media
attention has been paid to Duterte’s murderous war on drugs as well as to his often crass and controversial statements.
His embrace of China and his visceral disdain for the United States has garnered additional attention in foreign policy
circles, and he frequently is included in media reports and scholarly articles on the rise of populism globally.

Although the attention to Duterte and his brutal drug war is warranted, much less attention has been paid to his
administration’s broader policy agenda, its approach to politics and governance, and its broader impact on democratic
institutions and norms. As a candidate, Duterte promised that he would produce real and rapid improvements in the
lives of Filipinos, particularly by aggressively addressing crime and corruption. Two and a half years into his presidency, it
is both warranted and possible to assess what has and has not changed under Duterte. The picture is a mixed one, with
elements of change, continuity, and regression.

The Duterte government’s track record regarding human rights and democracy is undoubtedly disturbing. It has run
roughshod over human rights, its political opponents, and the country’s democratic institutions. The combination of the
Philippines’ powerful presidency and the malleability of most of its political institutions is resulting in significant
democratic backsliding. But to focus only on Duterte fails to appreciate two other important elements: the extent to
which this degradation has happened through nominally legal means, and the limited pushback to date by groups and
institutions opposed to strongman rule. This working paper takes an in-depth look at the complex dynamics contributing
to democratic backsliding in the Philippines.

The Duterte administration’s assault on human rights and democracy also raises the question of what the U.S.
government and America’s nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) can and should do to defend democracy in America’s
former colony. The analysis concludes with a discussion of America’s extremely limited support for human rights and
democracy in the Philippines since Duterte became president and offers suggestions for a more robust response.

ANTECEDENTS

To begin to make sense of Duterte and his approach to politics and governing, it is necessary to understand three
aspects of contemporary Philippine politics: the mixed record of elite democracy since 1986; the successes and
shortcomings of the Benigno Aquino III administration (2010–2016); and the particularities of the 2016 presidential
election.

THE MIXED RECORD OF ELITE DEMOCRACY

Liberal democracy, a legacy of America’s colonization of the Philippines (which lasted from 1898 to 1946), has always
struggled to become deeply rooted in the country. The reasons given for this include cultural factors (the power of
familial and clientelistic ties); religious beliefs (Catholic fatalism); colonial legacies (America’s empowerment of a land-
owning elite); socioeconomic conditions (persistent poverty and inequality); and institutional factors (a presidential
system with winner-take-all elections). Between 1946 and 1972, democracy struggled under the weight of elite
competition and avarice, flawed economic policymaking, poor governance, and armed insurgency. In 1972, then
president Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law, and until 1986 democracy was dispensed with in favor of a
dictatorship. For nearly fifteen years, the Philippines experienced unprecedented repression and corruption.

The return to democracy following the People Power Revolution in February 1986 restored many of the pre-martial-law
era institutional features and political elites. Although it is generally accurate to view 1986 as a return to elite
democracy, Philippine society, the state, and modes of political competition have changed since 1972. Still, even the
most positive views of democracy in the Philippines since 1986 see it as a flawed work in progress; harsher critics see it
as a sham and a failure. Commonly cited flaws include elections tainted by violence and vote buying, widespread rent-
seeking and corruption, policies that have benefited elites and special interests at the expense of the poor majority, and
a dysfunctional justice system.

However, since 1986 democracy has been institutionalized in many ways, and at times has worked fairly well. Liberal
values were central to the nonviolent People Power Revolution and informed the drafting of the 1987 constitution. This
resulted in constitutional guarantees of human rights; regular, competitive elections for local and national offices; a
system of checks and balances; and a free (if flawed) media and robust civil society. The Philippine military remains
somewhat politicized, but since 1992 it has been reluctant to directly intervene in politics. Beginning in 1986, substantial
deregulation and privatization, as well as economic integration, set the stage for strong growth in the Philippines’ gross
domestic product (GDP) over most of the past decade. But even observers who applaud the post-1986 reforms have
questioned if they have been broad and deep enough to produce fundamental improvements in politics, governance,
and the economy.

PRESIDENTS, POLITICAL ELITES, AND OLIGARCHS

From 1935, when the Philippines became a semiautonomous commonwealth, the behavior of presidents and other
powerful political and economic elites has heavily influenced the quality of the country’s democratic politics and
governance.1 The Philippines is a unitary state with a winner-take-all electoral system, a presidency that exercises huge
power over budgets and appointments, and congenitally weak political parties. As a result, the president plays a central
role in determining policy outcomes, as well as the norms and behavior that shape politics and governance.

The second important influence on democracy in the Philippines is the country’s remarkably resilient political and
economic elite. The president is limited to a single six-year term, so the power and influence of individual presidents is
transitory. By contrast, political and business families such as the Marcoses, Cojuangcos, Aquinos, and Ayalas—to name
just a few—have had noteworthy longevity and adaptability.2 They exert a powerful influence over elections, legislation,
policymaking, regulatory bodies, jurisprudence, and the distribution of government resources.

For decades, this elite has thwarted the development of a strong state by limiting the government’s fiscal base and co-
opting, corrupting, or intimidating the bureaucracy. It has stunted and distorted the Philippine economy, preferring
collusion and protection over economic competition, and has been slow and selective in opening the economy to foreign
competition. Because elites dominate legislative and policymaking processes, successive governments have failed to
adopt and implement socioeconomic policies that address the needs of the poor and middle class. With a Gini
coefficient of 0.43, the Philippines has long been one of the most unequal societies in Asia, with one of the highest levels
of poverty incidence among Asia’s developing economies. Even after more than a decade of relatively strong
macroeconomic growth, the incidence of poverty decreased only a little, to 21.6 percent in 2015.3

Today, by the World Bank’s metrics the Philippines is a lower-middle-income country with a per capita income of $3,600
and a consumption-driven economy that has been growing at about 6.5 percent per year for most of the past decade,
fueled by remittances and a growing business process outsourcing sector.4 As a result, the country’s sizable,
predominantly urban, middle class now comprises 15 to 20 percent of the population.5 In sum, over the past quarter
century, the rich have become richer, the middle class has grown but remains insecure, and about one-quarter of the
population remains poor.

THE AQUINO GOVERNMENT AND LIMITS OF REFORMISM

The “real change” promised by Rodrigo Duterte has obscured how much positive change occurred under the
administration of Benigno Aquino III (2010–2016).6 Aquino’s promise to follow the “straight path” was an effort to both
appropriate his mother’s (Corazon Aquino) perceived integrity and draw a sharp contrast with the pervasive corruption
associated with the administration of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (2001–2010).7 Notable successes of the Aquino
government included passing reproductive health and “sin tax” reform laws, implementing twelve years of basic
education, extending public finance reform, expanding fiscal space and social spending, and making an effort to provide
greater autonomy to Muslims in Mindanao. GDP growth reached 6.5 percent, and by virtually every measure the
country’s international standing improved significantly. As a result, Aquino remained popular throughout most of his
term.

To be sure, there also were significant shortcomings and mistakes. Macroeconomic growth was slow to reduce poverty,
and the government was unable to rapidly improve infrastructure, especially in traffic-clogged Metro Manila. It did little
to reform dysfunctional food and agriculture policies, and could have done more to strengthen anticorruption
institutions and to pass a freedom of information law. In terms of governance, Aquino was widely seen as honest, but he
sometimes valued loyalty over competence and occasionally seemed to lack the empathy that Filipinos expect from their
political leaders. His administration also suffered from complacency (due to the president’s personal popularity),
problems communicating its accomplishments, and its failure to make the Liberal Party a more coherent and durable
political party. And when it came time to choose a successor, Aquino remained committed to supporting Manuel “Mar”
Roxas, his secretary of the Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG)—even though opinion polls
consistently indicated that Roxas would not win.8

DUTERTE AND THE PROMISE OF REAL CHANGE

On May 10, 2016, Rodrigo Duterte, then seventy-one years old, was elected president, winning 39 percent of the vote in
a five-way race. Charismatic, blunt, and frequently profane, Duterte combined a Dirty Harry persona with a track record
as a successful mayor of Davao City, Mindanao’s largest city. Although Duterte might appear to be unsophisticated and
crude, he is politically savvy and attuned to the attitudes and concerns of average Filipinos. He ran on his reputation as
an effective, no-nonsense mayor of Davao who prioritized law and order over legal protections for alleged criminals. The
overarching theme of Duterte’s campaign was that his strong leadership would produce rapid change. During his
campaign, he heaped criticism on the Manila-based elite, vowed to undertake a nationwide assault on illegal drugs and
criminality, and promised to change the government to a federal system. His victory over Mar Roxas, who placed a
distant second, signaled that the promise of change was more compelling than continuity. Even though Duterte had
been popular in Mindanao before he ran for president, his victory showed that his appeal spanned regions and
socioeconomic classes. The 16.6 million Filipinos who voted for him appeared to believe that he could deliver real
change.

Duterte’s victory surprised many and shocked some. In the wake of his election, political analysts have grappled with
what it says about contemporary Philippine politics. The reasons why he won are complex, suggesting that cautious and
nuanced conclusions are warranted. First, the incumbent, Benigno Aquino—the embodiment of reformist elite
democracy—could not run for a second term. If he had been able to run, it might have been a very different outcome.9
Second, the Philippine election law has no provision for run-offs, so there is no incentive to form coalition tickets. Had
Mar Roxas and Senator Grace Poe, the two most like-minded candidates, joined forces, they might have been able to
defeat Duterte. Third, Duterte ran a savvy and effective campaign. He announced his candidacy late, so the media had
little time to scrutinize his record as mayor and his rivals had much less chance to attack him. His campaign mobilized
large numbers of volunteers and used social media well. Fourth, all four of Duterte’s opponents had significant
negatives. In contrast, Duterte, because of his personality and message, was an attention-grabbing and compelling
candidate, who was able to tap into (and to some extent manipulate) middle class frustrations and “latent anxiety,”
particularly about drugs and crime.10 Although the assertions of middle-class frustration seem valid for anyone who has
lived in Metro Manila, Cebu, or the handful of other cities that are home to most of the Philippine middle class, the
extent to which this sense of frustration and anxiety was national in scope is relatively less clear.

THE DUTERTE GOVERNMENT’S PRIORITIES AND POLICIES

Upon assuming office on June 30, 2016, Duterte assembled an eclectic cabinet that included law school classmates, long-
time associates from Davao, ex-military officers, business leaders, and representatives of the communist left. His diverse
coalition came together through personal loyalty, regional affinity, and political opportunism. It included many political
figures who had been sidelined during the Aquino administration, most notably former president Gloria Macapagal
Arroyo and members of the Marcos, Estrada, and Villar families.

Now seventy-three years old, Duterte’s world view is heavily influenced by nationalist and leftist thought dating from
the 1960s and 1970s, as well as by his twenty-two years of experience as mayor of Davao City. In Davao, he combined a
hardline approach to law and order with socially progressive and pro-business policies. As mayor he was both a
paternalistic patron and a fearsome boss whose orders had to be followed. As a result, he has little tolerance for scrutiny
or challenges to this authority. He sees the country as beset by existential threats of drugs, crime, and corruption. As
befits Philippine culture, his approach is highly personalistic: he presents himself as the only leader strong and decisive
enough to save the nation. As for his frequently crude and threatening rhetoric, anthropologist Nicole Curato has called
his approach “crass politics” that, though objectionable to many, communicates multiple messages:
Duterte may be offending the norms of respectful communication when he prefaces his remarks with “mother fucker,”
but he brings to the surface the collective frustration many feel. He may not offer the clearest policy, but he puts
forward the sincerest discourse of sympathy. . . . Duterte’s gutter language establishes the urgency of saving the
republic. Including “kill” and “death” is essential to the president’s vocabulary for the country is at war, and his politics
of “I will” demands quick, albeit painful, solutions.11

KEY CONCERNS AND PRIORITIES

The Duterte government’s top priorities include combating illegal drugs and crime, promoting rapid infrastructure
development, sustaining economic growth and making it more inclusive, enhancing peace and development in
Mindanao, and reorienting the Philippines’ foreign relations. To support these goals, the government has significantly
increased spending on infrastructure, raised the salaries of government employees, expanded existing social
development programs, revived the stalled peace process with the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) and the Moro
Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), entered into negotiations with the communist insurgents, and established a closer
relationship with China.

Space constraints do not permit a full discussion of the government’s domestic and foreign policies. Instead, the
following sections discuss three policy areas that offer insights into the Duterte administration—economic policymaking,
peace and development in Mindanao, and constitutional change—and discuss in greater detail the ongoing war on
drugs.

Economic policies and performance. As a candidate, Duterte showed little interest in economic policy issues. To reassure
nervous domestic and foreign businesses, his campaign developed a ten-point economic agenda that largely continued
the Aquino government’s economic policies. Since taking office, Duterte’s two principal economic priorities have been to
accelerate economic growth and make it more inclusive, and to significantly increase spending on much-needed
infrastructure. Key features of the government’s approach to the economy include running a larger deficit, adopting a
more statist approach to infrastructure development, and continuing increases in social spending.

In 2017, GDP growth was 6.7 percent, and it is projected to be about 6.5 percent in 2018. The government, under its
“Build Build Build” program, has significantly increased spending on infrastructure and has ambitious plans to build new
rail lines, a subway, highways, and bridges in the coming years.12 To finance spending on infrastructure and social
services, the government has embarked on a multiphase tax reform program. The first package of reforms was signed
into law in December 2017; the second and more controversial package is with Congress. Inflation has been increasing,
averaging 4.8 percent for January to August and reaching a nine-year high of 6.7 percent in September and October.13
Higher oil and food prices, excise taxes associated with tax reform, and the weak peso have all fueled inflation.

Duterte and Mindanao. Duterte is the first president from the southern island of Mindanao, and his election was a
significant political milestone for the Philippines. Home to about 25 percent of the nation’s population, Mindanao is a
promising but vexing mix of economic opportunity and underdevelopment, ethnic and religious diversity, and multiple
forms of armed conflict. Under Duterte, progress on the political and security front has been mixed. This is in large
measure due to the May 2017 occupation of Marawi City, in Lanao del Sur province, by Islamist extremists affiliated with
the self-proclaimed Islamic State. It took five months of combat operations for the Philippine military to regain control
over the extensively damaged city. In response to the Marawi crisis Duterte imposed island-wide martial law, which
remains in effect. The rehabilitation of the city is expected to cost more than $1 billion.

But before Marawi exploded, the Duterte government had done little either to revive the stalled effort to pass
legislation providing for greater Muslim autonomy or to adopt federalism, an approach that many in Mindanao consider
important for the island’s future. The government had entered into a series of on-again, off-again talks with the
communist insurgency, which still has a significant armed presence in eastern Mindanao. Currently, the process has
stalled and appears unlikely to produce a breakthrough.
The most significant accomplishment pertaining to Mindanao was the passage of the Bangsamoro Organic Law (BOL) in
July 2018. The BOL translates into law many of the provisions included in the 2014 peace agreement between the
Aquino government and the MILF. Under the BOL, a new political entity, the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim
Mindanao, would replace the current Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao. The BOL is an important step forward,
but multiple challenges remain, including possible objections to its constitutionality, a forthcoming plebiscite scheduled
for late January and early February 2019, and the actual establishment of the new autonomous entity.

The fading prospects for constitutional change. As a candidate, Duterte ran against the widely perceived political and
economic dominance of “imperial Manila” and promised to change the Philippines into a federal state. This platform was
not unprecedented: since 1992, there have been recurring initiatives for charter change (or “Cha-Cha,” in the colloquial
expression), and all of them have failed. Duterte’s popularity and political dominance seemed to enhance the prospects
for success this time. But during most of his first two years in office, he showed limited interest in this complex and
contentious issue of federalism. He appointed a twenty-two-member Constitutional Commission, and received its
proposed draft constitution in early July 2018. The commission suggested eighteen federated regions and kept the
directly elected presidency. Cha-Cha is now in the hands of the Congress. If both houses agree to change the
constitution, the revised charter will be subject to a national plebiscite.

Over the past year, opposition to both the substance and process of Cha-Cha has grown. Senators are elected in a
nationwide constituency, so many of them see federalism as a threat to their political influence and ambitions. Others
criticize the process for being tightly controlled and nonparticipatory. Several of Duterte’s own economic managers have
raised concerns about the economic costs and uncertainties that would accompany such a fundamental change. A
recent Pulse Asia survey indicated that most Filipinos have little knowledge of the 1987 constitution and 66 percent are
against changing it. The same survey also found that 69 percent have little or no knowledge of federalism and only 28
percent favored changing to a federal system.14

As of December 2018 it appears unlikely that Cha-Cha will happen before the May 2019 midterm elections. The outcome
of these elections—and particularly, the future composition of the Senate—may determine whether Cha-Cha will be
revived in the next legislative term.

THE WAR ON DRUGS AND ITS CONSEQUENCES FOR POLITICS AND GOVERNANCE

Duterte’s principal priority has been a highly punitive approach to illegal drug use, which he sees as an existential threat
to the country’s social fabric. His nationwide war on drugs has applied the approach that he used in Davao City, giving
the police free rein to deal with suspected drug users and pushers with little concern for legal niceties. It also has
involved a lesser-noticed campaign against government officials allegedly complicit in the drug trade. This approach has
resulted in the deaths of thousands of suspected drug users and pushers—mostly young males living in poor urban
neighborhoods—at the hands of the police or unidentified assailants. The police claim that many of these deaths were
the result of the suspects resisting arrest, but evidence from journalists and human rights groups shows that many were
premeditated extra-judicial killings (EJKs).15 The number of EJKs is difficult to determine and disputed—in part because
the government and Philippine National Police (PNP) intentionally obfuscate the data—but estimates range from 6,000
to 12,000 deaths.16

This loss of life is the most horrific and immediate consequence of the drug war. But the drug war itself is a sign that the
Philippine government has abdicated its responsibility to protect human rights and respect the rule of law. EJKs violate
both the Philippine Constitution and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (to which the Philippines is a
signatory), particularly the provisions concerning the presumption of innocence and adherence to due process. Given
the attention that human rights organizations and the media have paid to the drug war, it is worth looking more closely
at the reasons for it and some of its broader consequences.17

Why is Duterte singularly focused on drugs and crime? It is not surprising that crime is a major problem in the
Philippines, given its high level of poverty, underresourced and corruption-prone law enforcement agencies, and
glacially slow judiciary. Criminal activities, in the form of smuggling, illegal gambling, drugs, trafficking in persons, and
money laundering, are significant features of the Philippine political economy.18 Studies by International Alert suggest
that the illicit economy in Mindanao plays an important role in sustaining the multiple conflicts across the island.19

Crime has been a political issue intermittently since the 1960s. Marcos pointed to criminality and lawlessness as a
justification for martial law in 1972, and Joseph Estrada’s image as a crime fighter was an important aspect of his
political appeal in the late 1990s.20 Crime also corrupts politics and undermines institutions. Politicians and the police
have long participated in, protected, or otherwise benefited from criminal activity. The proceeds from these illegal
activities have been an important source of financing for some politicians as well as for terrorist groups. At the
community level, drug use and drug-related crimes have long been recognized as serious social problems. By the late
1990s, the importation (primarily from China), local production, and use of methamphetamine hydrochloride (known as
shabu in the Philippines) was a major issue for law enforcement and the courts.21 In public opinion surveys prior to
2016, crime usually came just behind unemployment and food prices in the list of people’s main concerns. Survey data
also showed a complex trend during the Aquino administration: fewer people were victims of crime, but more were
worried about encountering drug addicts. Under Duterte, the official estimates of drug use have increased significantly—
suggesting that they were either understated before or are being overstated now.22

Since the early 2000s, there has been a growing awareness of the problem of narco-politics, mostly involving mayors and
other local officials thought to be complicit in the drug trade.23 However, it would be an exaggeration to assert that the
Philippines is becoming a narco-state, where state institutions have been penetrated by the power and wealth of drug
lords and the economy depends heavily on the production or distribution of illegal drugs. Nevertheless, Duterte sees it
differently. Although he was not the first presidential candidate to run against drugs and crime, he was the first to frame
drugs as an existential threat and to be explicit about the brutal approach he would use to solve the problem.

Why has Duterte made illegal drugs his signature issue? In addition to viewing drugs as a cancer on society, there is an
ugly political logic. Combating drugs and crime was central to his reputation as an effective mayor of Davao City.
Moreover, public acceptance of the Davao Death Squad, a shadowy group that specifically targeted suspected drug
dealers, petty criminals, and homeless youth, showed the low cost and high returns of mounting an extra-legal war on
drugs and crime.24 As president, Duterte’s nationwide war on drugs continues to play well across most socioeconomic
segments of society, particularly as long as the principal victims are the urban poor.

The drug war also offers a potent and useful political narrative in which Duterte alone possesses the moral authority to
rescue the country from the dangers posed by drug pushers and other criminals. As Peter Kreuzer, a German researcher,
has observed:

Duterte not only successfully established crime as the most pressing problem, but also made the unconditional fight
against this threat into a hallmark of a comprehensive “we” group. Given the assumed absoluteness of the evil to be
combated, any criticism of the president has been silenced. Detractors are suspected of being supporters of the criminal
threat to society, and any reference to due process can be ignored.25

This narrative of drugs as an existential threat has been used to justify imprisoning opposition Senator Leila de Lima (a
prominent critic of Duterte’s drug war), to exercise control over local officials, and to frame the motivation of the Islamic
extremists who took over Marawi City26

Public attitudes about the war on drugs. Most Filipinos believe that Duterte’s war on alleged drug users and pushers is a
draconian but necessary response to a serious social problem. Survey data have shown strong but softening support for
it: in December 2016, 85 percent of those surveyed voiced satisfaction, though by June 2018, only 78 percent were
satisfied.27 At the same time, almost three out of four Filipinos (73 percent) believe that EJKs happen, almost as many
are concerned that they might be a victim of an EJK, and a large majority think that it is important for the police to
capture suspects alive.28
Why is there such strong public support for the drug war? One explanation offered is that it reflects widespread
disillusionment with the Philippine justice system. Certainly, rich and powerful Filipinos enjoy near-total impunity while
many poor and middle-class Filipinos see the system’s high costs, delays, partiality, and corruption. However, the degree
of alienation should not be overstated: few Filipinos ever go to court, and surveys indicate that the judiciary and the
police both enjoy moderately high approval ratings.

A second explanation is that Duterte has successfully dehumanized suspected drug pushers and users and turned them
into a threatening “other” to be eradicated by any means available. As such, they do not deserve legal protections,
rehabilitation, or empathy. This view might erode if the war on drugs expanded to target alleged drug users in the
middle and upper classes.

A third explanation is that the drug war, despite its excesses, is seen as a welcome example of government
responsiveness. It is rare for multiple government authorities—including the PNP, national government agencies, and
local government officials—to work together to address pressing social issues. This whole-of-government approach
appears to have produced results. According to the PNP, the national crime rate (excluding murders) has declined more
than 20 percent over the past two years, and surveys suggest that Filipinos feel more secure. In a June 2018 Pulse Asia
survey, 69 percent said that the Duterte administration’s efforts to eradicate the drugs is his most important
accomplishment, with the fight against criminality ranking second.29

The drug war’s impact on the Philippine National Police. The PNP is the government institution most deeply involved in
implementing the drug war—known locally as Oplan Double Barrel or Oplan Tokhang—and therefore most directly
affected by it.30 The involvement of PNP elements in EJKs is well documented and beyond dispute.31 Some broader
consequences of the PNP’s involvement are worth examining in greater detail.

Although largely overlooked by most analyses, the PNP, and its predecessor the Philippine Constabulary, have long been
at the nexus of politics, crime, and the rule of law. As historian Alfred McCoy has shown, Philippine presidents and local
officials have used the police as an essential tool to assert their authority, bolster their legitimacy, selectively fight crime,
and control dissent.32 As the principal law enforcement agency, the PNP has a long history of being vulnerable to
corruption, particularly in the highly lucrative areas of illegal gambling, drugs, and smuggling. Some of this corruption
stems from individual greed, but it also is the product of low salaries, the complicity of politicians, and the multifaceted
shortcomings of the justice system.

As mayor of a city that at times was wracked by political and criminal violence, Duterte considered the police to be a
central pillar of his government. He established close relationships with many in the police and gained an intimate
understanding of how the police operate. Thus, it is not surprising that Duterte and the PNP have a symbiotic
relationship.

In the context of Duterte’s drug war, individual police officers face difficult choices. Journalist Sheila Coronel describes
the complex considerations that influence police behavior today:

Policemen weigh the continually shifting balance of incentives and risks as they seek to deter crime, advance their
careers, please their political patrons, and make money, while also evading exposure and prosecution. Yet in the end,
these policemen often also believe they are upholding order and helping keep the peace. They are specialists in violence
—practitioners in the skills of lethal force—who improvise often morally and legally questionable workarounds to the
constraints of a broken justice system.33

The longer-term consequences for law enforcement from the war on drugs may be highly damaging. The Brookings
Institution’s Vanda Felbab-Brown has warned about its potentially corrupting influence:
Inducing police to engage in de facto shoot-to-kill policies is enormously corrosive of law enforcement, not to mention
the rule of law. There is a high chance that the policy will more than ever institutionalize top-level corruption, as only
powerful drug traffickers will be able to bribe their way into upper-levels of the Philippine law enforcement system. . . .
Moreover, corrupt top-level cops and government officials tasked with such witch-hunts will have the perfect
opportunity to direct law enforcement against their drug business rivals as well as political enemies, and themselves
become the top drug capos.34

Moreover, assuming that eventually there will be a president who no longer sanctions EJKs by the police, the seeds have
been planted for a potentially divisive and dangerous debate over how to handle human rights abuses that the PNP
carried out during the Duterte era.

Other collateral damage. Duterte’s war on drugs has had less dramatic but significant consequences for other aspects of
governance in the Philippines, including the justice system, public health, and local governance.

Impact on the justice system. The war on drugs has further stressed the Philippines’ overburdened justice system. The
volume of cases to be investigated, prosecuted, and tried, as well as the number of alleged offenders awaiting trial in
detention facilities, has increased dramatically. A comprehensive picture of the impact on the justice system is beyond
the scope of this working paper, but some of the available data point to these burdens. In 2016, there were 28,000 drug
arrests—a 44 percent increase over 2015—and more than 47,300 drug-related cases were filed.35 During the first 10
months of 2017, the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency conducted 34,744 drug enforcement operations, with 66,672
arrests.36 In 2017, about 70,700 drug-related cases were filed in court, and about 21,400 were reviewed.37 According
to the Supreme Court, as of 2017 more than 289,000 drug cases had been filed in the country’s lower courts.38

As a result, drug suspects and convicts are crammed into the Philippines’ already packed jails and prisons. According to
the Department of Justice’s Bureau of Corrections, in 2017 the national prison system held 41,500 inmates, more than
double its capacity. Data from the Bureau of Jail Management and Penology, which oversees provincial and municipal
jails, show an even more disturbing situation. As of May 2018, there were over 141,000 detainees—of which about 70
percent were drug-related cases—held in jails that were 582 percent overcapacity.39

Ultimately, the legal dimensions of the war on drugs will test not only the capacity of the justice system, but also the
jurisprudence, values, and autonomy of the Philippine judiciary. In November 2018, a Regional Trial Court issued the first
legal judgment against the PNP, finding three policemen guilty of murdering Kian Delos Santos, a seventeen-year-old the
policemen claimed was a drug runner who resisted arrest. Currently, there is one case before the Supreme Court
challenging the constitutionality of the PNP’s official plan for eradicating illegal drugs.

Impact on public health. The government’s punitive approach to reducing drug use also has important consequences for
public health. It has overwhelmed the country’s paltry rehabilitation capacity and is having a negative effect on drug-
linked diseases. As of mid-2017, the Philippines had only forty-eight drug rehabilitation facilities and only about fifty
medical personnel trained in addiction medicine.40 According to the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency, close to
990,000 “drug personalities” voluntarily surrendered in 2016, and by May 2017 that number had grown to 1.2 million
people.

The war on drugs has had predictable negative effects on drug-related public health problems. According to Vanda
Felbab-Brown:

[A] crucial goal of drug policy should be to enhance public health and limit the spread of diseases linked to drug use. The
worst possible policy is to push addicts into the shadows, ostracize them, and increase the chance of overdoses as well
as a rapid spread of HIV/AIDS, drug-resistant tuberculosis, and hepatitis. In prisons, users will not get adequate
treatment for either their addiction or their communicable disease. . . . Even prior to the [sic] Duterte’s brutal war on
drugs, the rate of HIV infections in the Philippines has been soaring due to inadequate awareness and failure to support
safe sex practices. . . . Duterte’s war on drugs will only intensify these worrisome trends among drug users.41

Impact on local politics and government. Duterte’s almost singular focus on the drug war has far-reaching consequences
for the country’s local politics and governance. In many respects, subnational government in the Philippines is highly
decentralized, but most local government units (LGUs) are dependent upon central government funding and grapple
with the challenge of unfunded mandates. LGUs are key actors in the drug war, and local officials need to juggle multiple
and sometimes conflicting priorities, including protecting their citizens, cooperating with local law enforcement, and
demonstrating results to central authorities. And as reported by Rappler, a respected Philippine news website, the drug
war has caused a major shift in LGU priorities:

At the local level, the drug war has changed the way barangays [the smallest LGUs] spend their funds. . . . Traditional
social services such as medical clinics or feeding programs for malnourished children are no longer budget priorities.
Through a number of policy incentives as well as strict supervision by the DILG, the priority at the barangay level has
now become the monitoring and surveillance of drug suspects and the rehabilitation of drug users who have
surrendered.42

There also is a darker dimension to the drug war at the local level. Peter Kreuzer notes the pressure and intimidation
experienced by local officials:

It has become highly problematic for local political elites to evade the president’s injunction to participate in the anti-
crime killing spree that is engulfing the Philippines. . . . The various reshuffles are placing more hard-line police officers in
command positions. Furthermore, these officers are well aware that results measured in dead bodies are expected of
them. In addition, police officers and politicians alike have been publicly denounced as supporting and profiting from
drug crimes and thus threatened not only with being indicted, but also with becoming victims of extrajudicial executions
themselves. Most officials then choose to fall in line with the president.43

DUTERTE’S SUBVERSION OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS AND NORMS

The Duterte government’s approach to eradicating illegal drugs, besides being inhumane and misguided, has negative
consequences for the rule of law, governance, and politics. But that is not the full extent of the damage being done to
the Philippine polity. This section provides an assessment of the Duterte government’s impact on democratic institutions
and norms.

JUST HARDBALL POLITICS AS USUAL?

Some observers of Philippine politics might argue that Duterte is only the most recent example of presidents who
exercise fully the levers of executive power to advance their political and policy agendas. In this light, he is perpetuating
and perhaps perfecting the hardball politics that every president has practiced since 1986. To be sure, Duterte’s
predecessors all used a mix of persuasion and inducements to advance their agenda, and no president has been above
using intimidation and subterfuge to get their way at times. Therefore, the “politics as usual” view has some superficial
validity. But a deeper assessment shows that the Duterte presidency is qualitatively different from its post-Marcos
predecessors because of its willingness to intimidate the opposition, weaken institutional checks, and discard
democratic norms.

The Duterte presidency is fundamentally different from post-1986 administrations in its unrelenting use of intimidation
to weaken any challenges to its authority. Duterte’s brutal drug war sends a powerful message regarding his willingness
to use extra-legal means, including EJKs, to achieve his goals. Unlike previous administrations, Duterte and his
supporters routinely use lawsuits, incarceration, and social media trolling to intimidate opponents and critics. As
sociologist Randy David has observed:
Compared to Ferdinand Marcos, Mr. Duterte has performed the art of intimidation with consummate skill. Without
warning, he calls out the name of his prey, denouncing him or her in the strongest possible terms, and publicly
announces that he or she, or they, are in his line of fire. . . . The public has learned to take these instances of public
vilification of targeted figures as part of the Duterte style of rule. People know these are not empty threats. Indeed, the
public takes them as synonymous with the President’s exercise of political will.44

In some cases, Duterte’s threats may simply reflect his impetuous personality and desire to dominate media coverage.
However, his statements and actions also send the message that no one is safe from his attacks and that opposing him is
a high-risk venture.

DISABLING DEMOCRATIC CHECKS AND BALANCES

As a former mayor, Duterte is used to governing by decree and by dint of his personality, popularity, and unrivaled
authority. In Davao City, he had no strong political opposition, significant institutional checks, or close media scrutiny.
Peter Kreuzer, writing in 2009 (when Duterte was mayor), presciently observed:

Duterte makes abundantly clear that there can be security, but only he himself can provide it. Security is provided
according to his personal ideas of justice and adequateness. In his political symbolism, Duterte clearly is above the law. It
is him, who indicts, passes judgment and orders the executioners to do their job. It is a personalized fight between those
who do not follow the rules and the rightful vigilante whose rules reign supreme.45

As president, Duterte has repeatedly expressed his disdain for those who oppose his policies, and has taken numerous
steps to silence his critics and weaken institutional checks:

Led by Solicitor General Jose Calida, the government has weaponized the legal system to attack political opponents. This
began in early 2017 when opposition Senator Leila de Lima was imprisoned on nonbailable drug-related charges.46
Groups allied with Duterte, as well as some leftist organizations, have filed multiple lawsuits against former president
Aquino and former budget secretary Florencio “Butch” Abad, a longtime leader of the Liberal Party. Most recently, in
September 2018 the government arrested Senator Antonio Trillanes IV, a vocal critic of Duterte. The government
claimed that a presidential pardon granted to Trillanes by Benigno Aquino in 2011 was invalid, therefore making
Trillanes ineligible to serve as senator.47

Duterte has repeatedly disparaged or threatened the leaders of key accountability institutions like the chairman of the
Commission on Human Rights, the chief justice of the Supreme Court, and the chairwoman of the Office of the
Ombudsman. Followers of Duterte threatened to seek the impeachment of Ombudsman Conchita Carpio-Morales, but
her term ended in July 2018. Most disturbingly, in March 2018 Solicitor General Calida filed a quo warranto petition
against then chief justice Maria Lourdes Sereno, and in May 2018, the Supreme Court—which currently is dominated by
Macapagal Arroyo appointees and in time will be dominated by Duterte appointees—took the unprecedented and
arguably unconstitutional step of removing its own chief justice.48

The government has threatened the mainstream media with lawsuits and nonrenewal of franchises.49 These threats
have been directed at media owners like the Rufino-Prieto family, which owns the Philippine Daily Inquirer, and the
Lopez family, which owns ABS-CBN, the country’s largest TV network. In January 2018, the Securities and Exchange
Commission revoked the operating license of the highly respected news website Rappler, alleging that it has foreign
owners and therefore is in violation of the constitution. In November, the Department of Justice said that it had grounds
to indict both Rappler and its founder Maria Ressa for tax evasion and failure to file tax returns.50 Meanwhile, on social
media, critics of the government are routinely harassed and threatened.

Finally, Duterte has periodically raised the specter of declaring martial law nationwide or forming a revolutionary
government that would no longer be bound by the constitution. Declaring martial law would be constitutional, at least
initially, but would be extremely polarizing politically. However, declaring a revolutionary government would be an
extra-constitutional act. It seems likely that these statements are intended as trial balloons to gauge public and elite
reactions.

THE PROSPECTS FOR PUSHBACK: POLITICAL AND INSTITUTIONAL CHECKS ON DUTERTE

COUNTERVAILING INSTITUTIONS AND ACTORS

A brief scan of the political landscape suggests that most institutions and actors that can serve as checks on Duterte are
weak, divided, or under attack.

Provisions in the 1987 Constitution place checks on the duration of martial law and the powers than can be exercised
under it. Today, the powers granted to the president and the military during martial law are limited in ways that did not
exist when Ferdinand Marcos used martial law as the foundation for his dictatorship. However, it is still possible that the
constitution will be rewritten, which could include expanding the scope for declaring martial law and increasing the
powers exercised under it.

Since 1986 the jurisprudence of the fifteen-member Supreme Court has been eclectic, defying simple characterization.
Based on its decisions over the past two years, it is clear that the court does not see itself as a bulwark against Duterte’s
exercise of presidential power. Moreover, the court’s autonomy and integrity have been seriously compromised by the
unprecedented removal of Sereno from chief justice at the behest of Duterte’s solicitor general.

The Commission on Human Rights has limited authority and a small staff and budget. Without the cooperation of the
PNP and government prosecutors, its impact has been further diminished. The dramatic increase in EJKs has highlighted
the relative powerlessness of the commission, as well as the divisions and weaknesses that characterize human rights
NGOs in the Philippines.

The mainstream political opposition is weak and on the defensive. This is the predictable consequence of the power of
the presidency, Duterte’s popularity, and the chronic weakness of political parties. The Liberal Party has been decimated
by defections, and its leadership (and other members of the Aquino coalition) have struggled to craft a counternarrative
and strategy. Aquino has been largely silent, and until recently the putative leader of the opposition, Vice President
Leonor “Leni” Robredo, has kept an intentionally low profile.

The national democratic left has been divided by Duterte’s policies. Since 1986, the “Natdem” left—the legal political
parties and mass organizations associated with the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP)—has enjoyed a relatively
small but well-organized following. But it also suffers from factionalism and antiquated leadership and doctrine. Its unity
has been weakened by the contradictions inherent in Duterte’s policies. To woo over this section of the opposition,
Duterte invited members of the left into his cabinet, entered into peace talks with the CPP and its armed wing, New
People’s Army (NPA), and has been vociferously anti-American. At the same time, other policies of his are anathema to
the left: the human rights abuses associated with the drug war, his empowering of the PNP and the armed forces, his
threats to declare martial law, and his decision to break off peace talks. As a result, the left has been slow to unify in
opposition to Duterte.

The Catholic Church is an influential voice in Philippine society and politics, but it is not monolithic and its views do not
always prevail. Initially, Catholic bishops were divided over Duterte and how to engage him, especially because of his
popularity and the public’s support for the drug war. But over time, their cautious response to EJKs has become more
critical.51 Duterte has openly disparaged the church, calling it corrupt and hypocritical, and at one point ranted about
God being “stupid.”

Civil society organizations (CSOs) and coalitions in the Philippines can play an important political role through their policy
advocacy, efforts to make government more transparent and accountable, and ability to mobilize protests. However, the
political impact of civil society is reduced by partisan and ideological differences, the narrow focus of most CSOs, and
inadequate financial and human resources. Many of the CSOs that worked closely with the Aquino government are now
suspect and on the defensive. Yet major universities, especially those in Manila, remain important centers for critical
analysis and debate.

Philippine and foreign businesses were reassured by the Duterte government’s ten-point economic plan, which
promised considerable continuity, as well as the appointment of Davao-based businessman Carlos “Sonny” Dominguez
as finance secretary. Most businesses support the increased government spending on infrastructure, but reactions to
Duterte’s tax reforms have been more mixed. Businesses also have differing views on China’s growing economic role and
the desirability of federalism. Given the power of the presidency, the business community tends to be reluctant to
criticize a sitting president. However, this could change if businesses feel that they are being hurt by poor
macroeconomic management or excessive cronyism or corruption.

It is important to note that there is a typical arc of presidencies, which begins with high approval ratings, strong
congressional support, and minimal opposition. Following the midterm elections, the power of the president often
begins to diminish as political and business elites position themselves for the next presidential election.

THE POTENTIALLY PIVOTAL ROLE OF THE ARMED FORCES

The senior leadership of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) has a tradition of generally respecting civilian
primacy, but the AFP nonetheless influences politics and policymaking in a variety of important ways. First, if there is a
leadership crisis, like there was in January 2001, following the aborted impeachment trial of then president Joseph
Estrada, and the AFP chooses to withdraw its support from the sitting president, it virtually guarantees the end of that
presidency. Second, the AFP’s longtime efforts to combat domestic armed insurgencies make it an influential actor in
Mindanao and other conflict-affected areas. Under Duterte, the role of the AFP in Mindanao has been elevated further
with the imposition of island-wide martial law. Third, the AFP has a strong say in determining national security policy.
Over the past decade, the focus of the AFP’s mission has shifted from internal security to a growing concern with
external threats, particularly from China. Finally, because of the AFP’s long-standing ties to the U.S. military, the AFP is
an important stakeholder in the Philippines’ bilateral relationship with the United States.

In recent years, the AFP appears to have become more professional and less political, but all presidents still cultivate the
support of the AFP leadership. Duterte has appointed numerous former officers to senior civilian positions in his
government. He knows a number of them from when he was mayor, and he appears to believe that military officers will
be more effective administrators and less prone to corruption than civilians. He also wants to bolster support within the
military for his national security policies, including negotiating with the communists and embracing China. He has
courted rank-and-file soldiers and police, visiting many military bases and raising salaries.

To date, Secretary of Defense Delfin Lorenzana and the AFP leadership have shown they understand the constitutionally
mandated role of the military and are committed to military professionalism. The AFP has avoided being drawn into the
antidrug campaign, and to date the army appears to have administered martial law in Mindanao with competence and
restraint. However, given mandatory retirement ages, the senior leadership of the AFP changes fairly rapidly. Therefore,
routine leadership changes could bring to the fore senior officers who are more political.

A final potentially important issue is the uncertain extent to which members of the AFP agree with the Duterte
administration’s approach to addressing the country’s national security challenges. Some members of the military may
likely object to his pivot to China, his willingness to negotiate with communist insurgents, and his fixation on the drug
war. Other military officials may also feel that the AFP’s domestic role has become unacceptably overextended by the
Marawi crisis in 2017, the administration of martial law across Mindanao, and the continuing threat of Islamist
extremism.

THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC OPINION

Public opinion in the Philippines is frequently measured by credible survey firms and closely monitored by all politicians.
As a result, public support for the president is an important factor in perceptions of presidential power. Duterte has
remained popular because he entered office with an energized base of support and because elements of his persona
and policies appeal across socioeconomic classes. What might cause public support for Duterte to soften?

Duterte promised real change within a matter of months. Although most Filipinos probably knew that his timeframe was
unrealistic, he is now well into the third year of his administration and there has been little or no change on many fronts.
The economy continues to grow, but the benefits of growth have not been quickly or widely shared. Likewise, it will be
years before the benefits of the government’s infrastructure program will be widely experienced.52 Meanwhile, the
push for federalism has been erratic and appears to have stalled. Scholar Nicole Curato suggests that support for
Duterte is “conditional not fanatical.” According to her, “He may be able to get away with murders, but not with broken
promises.”53

Deteriorating economic conditions. The Philippine economy is likely to continue to grow at around 6.5 percent for the
foreseeable future. But as has been the case in the past, strong GDP growth does not necessarily result in rapid
improvements in the incomes of poor Filipinos. Instead, inflation—which currently is at a nine-year high—has an
immediate and tangible impact on consumers, especially the poor and retirees. In addition to the spike in inflation, the
depreciation of the peso and the uncertainties associated with a change to a federal system pose risks to the economy’s
performance.

Corruption begins to undermine Duterte’s moral authority. Every presidency is tainted by corruption to a greater or
lesser degree. There is little evidence that Duterte enriched himself while he was mayor of Davao City, and as president
he has dismissed—though not necessarily punished—members of his administration suspected of corruption. But his
push to rapidly increase spending on infrastructure, combined with the weakening of accountability mechanisms, almost
guarantees more corruption and malfeasance in government. As Joel Rocamora has observed: “People turned against
Erap [Joseph Estrada] not because of his performance as president, but because they changed their judgment of the
man. Judgment shifted from the rational to the moral sphere.”54

Unease with becoming “another province of China.” The rapidity, degree and tone of Duterte’s embrace of China—and
commensurate distancing from the United States—are not without political risks. Many Filipinos have some Chinese
blood, so there is not the same level of sensitivity about ethnic Chinese domination of the economy as is found in
Indonesia and Malaysia. However, some Filipinos have less-than-positive views of Chinese nationals residing in the
Philippines because they are seen as being associated with the drug trade, gambling, and illegal mining.55 Surveys
indicate that Filipinos have a high level of trust in the United States and a low level of trust in China, and four of five
Filipinos believe that it is “not right” to accede to China in the South China Sea.56

The emergence of an appealing alternative. To date, the opposition to Duterte lacks a leader (or group of leaders) who
offers a compelling alternative to the president and his policies. The government’s targeted assault on opposition
leaders, including the arrests of Senators de Lima and Trillanes, is partly to blame, but the opposition’s weakness also
stems from its limited pool of potential leaders. After maintaining a low profile for most of the past two years, Vice
President Leni Robredo has become more vocal in her criticisms. Besides Vice President Robredo, other potential
challengers include those whom Duterte has attacked: Senators de Lima and Trillanes and former chief justice Sereno.
Moreover, former president Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, who was elevated to speaker of the house in July 2018, also may
be positioning herself as a possible successor to Duterte.

IS DUTERTE A POPULIST? AND DOES IT MATTER?

In recent years, “populist” has become a convenient adjective to describe a growing number of political leaders,
including Duterte. But as a term intended to categorize a particular approach to politics and governing, populism is
frustratingly expansive. Cas Mudde and Cristobal Rovira Kaltwasser describe populism as a “thin-centered ideology that
considers society to be ultimately separated into two homogeneous and antagonist camps, ‘the pure people’ versus ‘the
corrupt elite.’”57 To this can be added Jan-Werner Muller’s observation that, “In addition to being anti-elitist, populists
are always anti-pluralist. . . . When running for office, populists portray their political competitors as part of the immoral,
corrupt elite; when ruling, they refuse to recognize any opposition as legitimate.” Muller also notes that populists in
power tend to frame their rule as a response to a crisis or an existential threat.58 Finally, Steven Levitsky and James
Loxton point to two additional traits of populist leaders: they claim to be political outsiders and they establish a
personalistic linkage to voters.59

Using these criteria, Duterte certainly has some populist traits. His Mindanaowan roots, crass language, and brusque
behavior set him apart from most of the national political elite. In his campaign, he ran as a Manila outsider, and
portrayed the members of the elite associated with the Aquino government as incompetent and corrupt. As president,
he has framed the problems of drugs and crime as an existential national crisis and portrayed drug users as a
dehumanized “other.” His efforts to intimidate political opponents and critics clearly are anti-pluralist.

However, other aspects of Duterte’s politics do not comport with populism. Although he portrays himself as a political
outsider, he is from a prominent political family and served as mayor of a major city for twenty-two years. Even as he
criticizes some members of the political and business elite, in practice he has allied himself with powerful members of
the political establishment—most notably Gloria Macapagal Arroyo and the Marcos, Estrada, and Villar families. And
while Duterte is more antagonistic toward powerful taipans and conglomerates than Benigno Aquino was, he appears
more interested in ensuring that they support him than in reducing the concentration of economic power.
Duterte has increased spending for social programs and some of the government’s policies, such as higher salaries for
government employees, free irrigation, and tertiary public education, can be viewed as populist. But to date his core
fiscal and macroeconomic policies are more neoliberal than populist. However, if Duterte’s popularity declines, there is a
risk that his government will adopt economic policies that are more statist and populist.

Finally, to date Duterte has not created a mass movement or highly personalistic political party typically associated with
populist leaders. According to Joel Rocamora, “Digong [Duterte] may bring the popular medjo bastos (rudeness) into
political discourse, but he does not bring citizens into formal processes of political participation. In contrast to populists
who mobilize people, Digong like Estrada is a demobilising populist.”60 Reflecting this perspective, as well as the more
general challenge of building political organizations in the Philippines, efforts to create a pro-Duterte grassroots
movement, Kilusang Pagbabago (Movement for Change), appear to have faltered. In its stead, Duterte’s daughter, Sara
Duterte-Carpio, has established Hugpong ng Pagbabago (Faction for Change), a Mindanao-based political party widely
viewed as her vehicle for entering national politics. The putative failure of the former and the creation of the latter
demonstrate the continued dominance of traditional dynastic politics.

In sum, describing Duterte as a populist provides a convenient but not entirely accurate label to characterize a complex,
somewhat contradictory politician with a disparate policy agenda. Still, the growing literature on populist leaders
generally depicts them as being toxic to liberal democracy, so the Duterte-as-populist narrative provides a valid but
limited frame for viewing his impact on democracy.

DEMOCRATIC BACKSLIDING: HOW FAR, HOW FAST?

With the challenges currently facing liberal democracy in the United States and elsewhere, the concept of democratic
backsliding has taken on new saliency. According to Nancy Bermeo, backsliding, in its broadest sense, is “state-led
debilitation or elimination of any of the political institutions that sustain existing democracy” (emphasis added).61 A
2015 study on democratic backsliding, written by Ellen Lust and David Waldner for the U.S. Agency for International
Development (USAID), suggests that backsliding is best conceived as

a change in a combination of competitive electoral procedures, civil and political liberties, and accountability, and that
backsliding occurs through a series of discrete changes in the rules and informal procedures that shape those elections,
rights and accountability. These discrete changes take place over time, separated by months or even years, and the end
result is not predetermined: backsliding may result in democratic breakdown, or it may not, and can occur within both
democratic and authoritarian regimes.62

The term “backsliding” is particularly appropriate for low-quality democracies like the Philippines, where concerted and
sustained efforts are required to improve the quality of democracy. Absent that, backsliding is inevitable. How serious is
the problem of democratic backsliding in the Philippines, and is the country on the way to democratic breakdown? In
answering these questions, it is important to start by recognizing the sources of democratic resiliency in the Philippines.

Democratic resiliencies. Elite democracy was practiced before martial law was declared in 1972 and after the restoration
of democracy in 1986. It often was not pretty, and it failed in a number of important ways. But many Filipinos take pride
in people power, and norms of constitutionalism, political competition, free speech and media, and autonomous civil
society have fairly deep roots. A variety of influential institutions, including the Catholic Church, many schools and
universities, and most of the media, embrace and promote democratic norms. Moreover, the alternative to democracy
—authoritarianism—is not an abstraction, at least to older Filipinos who experienced the Marcos dictatorship.

Broad support for democracy among Filipinos has been consistently borne out in surveys. A 2018 Social Weather
Stations (SWS) survey showed that 78 percent were satisfied with how democracy works and 60 percent always
preferred democracy.63 Surveys also consistently show a high degree of satisfaction with the country’s democratic
institutions, including the Senate, House of Representatives, and Supreme Court. So while Filipinos tend to be fairly
cynical about the motivations and integrity of politicians and government officials, they are used to enjoying political
freedoms, lively political debates, and competitive elections.

Vulnerabilities. At the same time, multiple conditions in the Philippines make it vulnerable to democratic backsliding.

Socioeconomic conditions. Inequality, the uneven distribution of benefits from economic growth, and an apparent sense
of middle-class insecurity and vulnerability may make the poor and middle class receptive to promises of simplistic quick
fixes.

Presidentialism and weak institutions. The combination of a powerful presidency and generally weak and malleable
political institutions gives the president wide latitude. If a president does not respect democratic institutions and norms,
many other political actors will follow suit.

The weakness of collective action. This applies particularly to political parties and civil society organizations. In How
Democracies Die, Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt underscore the important role that political parties historically have
played in containing extremist demagogues. But in the Philippines, parties are abysmally weak, and to date have been
unable to provide compelling alternative leaders or narratives. Although the Philippines boasts a robust civil society, as
of yet it has not been an effective counterforce to Duterte.

Generational change. Most Filipinos under the age of forty-five did not directly experience either the abuses of the
Marcos era or the nonviolent People Power Revolution that forced him from office in 1986. Moreover, because school
curricula have glossed over the period and the younger members of the Marcos family (particularly his children) have
been able to revamp his image, public understanding of the severe damage done by the Marcos dictatorship has been
diminished.64 As a result, younger Filipinos know only the freedoms and disappointments of thirty years of elite
democracy. This may make them less protective of the democratic freedoms that were lost during the Marcos era.

Death by a thousand cuts? In How Democracies Die, Levitsky and Ziblatt describe the incremental demise of democracy:

Many government efforts to subvert democracy are “legal,” in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or
accepted by the courts. . . . Because there is no single moment—no coup, declaration of martial law, or suspension of
the constitution—in which the regime obviously “crosses the line” into dictatorship, nothing may set off society’s alarm
bells. Those who denounce government abuse may be dismissed as exaggerating or crying wolf. Democracy’s erosion is,
for many, almost imperceptible.65

This observation is highly relevant for the Philippines under Duterte. Two and a half years into his presidency—with the
very important exception of EJKs—his government still operates largely within the bounds of the constitution. He has
not muzzled the media, outlawed the political opposition, or canceled elections. Despite his threats, he has not declared
nationwide martial law or created a revolutionary government. Nevertheless, the extent to which he has used the
powers of the presidency to run roughshod over human rights and weaken democratic checks and balances is
unprecedented.

Levitsky and Ziblatt also observe that “without robust norms, constitutional checks and balances do not serve as the
bulwarks of democracy we imagine them to be.” In particular, they point to the importance of two norms: (1) mutual
toleration, the understanding that competing parties accept one another as legitimate rivals, and (2) forbearance, the
idea that politicians should exercise restraint in deploying their institutional prerogatives.66 Duterte’s actions clearly
violate both of these norms. To be sure, they have been frequently disregarded in the past, but under Duterte any
pretense of honoring them has disappeared. As Lisandro Claudio and Patricio Abinales have noted, “Duterte is the first
Philippine president to not render even the minimum obeisance to liberal democratic politics.”67

Bermeo points to the challenge of responding to gradual or incremental backsliding: “Slow slides toward
authoritarianism often lack both the bright spark that ignites an effective call to action and the opposition and
movement leaders who can voice that clarion.” To date, Duterte hasn’t triggered “the bright spark,” and the opposition
to him has yet to generate compelling new leaders or political movements.
But even where there is backsliding, there may be grounds for optimism that it can be reversed. As Bermeo notes:

Incremental and ambiguous change preserves mixed landscapes wherein one set of institutions or ideas can correct
others. As long as some electoral competition takes place, power can be clawed back. When civil society is allowed some
space, countermobilization can occur. Because backsliding reflects incentive structures, changed incentives can reverse
negative trends.68

The election-driven overthrow of Ferdinand Marcos in 1986, as well as the electoral defeats of then president Mahinda
Rajapaksa in Sri Lanka in January 2015 and then prime minister Najib Razak in Malaysia in June 2018, give at least some
credence to Bormeo’s cautious hopefulness.

SUMMING UP: A MIXED RECORD DELIVERING CHANGE AND AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE

Thus far, how much real change has Duterte’s presidency produced? And what does this suggest for the future? To date,
there has been real change in several areas. The first is the drug war and the damage it has inflicted on the rule of law,
the professionalism of the PNP, and other aspects of governance. Second is the weakening of democratic institutions
and norms. Third is a portion of the government’s economic policies, particularly the increase in spending on
infrastructure and a few populist social programs. Fourth is the reorientation of the Philippines’ foreign relations to
move closer to China and pullback from the United States, the United Nations, and the liberal norms espoused by the
international community. Finally, the possibility of constitutional changes, up to and including federalism, would be
highly significant for the Philippines.

Alongside these changes, there are important elements of continuity. So far, there is considerable continuity in most
macroeconomic policies and public financial management. The government also has continued to expand (with some
tweaks or rebranding) most preexisting social development programs. Finally, the passage of the Bangsamoro Organic
Law was the culmination of a decades-long process.

Under Duterte, there also are worrying signs of regression back to some of the worst aspects of traditional Philippine
politics. First is the emphasis on highly personalistic leadership: Duterte’s presidency is all about him and not about
institutions. Second, little effort has been made to reduce the entrenched power of political dynasties and oligarchs—
except those that might challenge Duterte. Instead, Duterte has been willing to ally with traditional political leaders who
have shown little interest in reforming politics and governance. Third, his administration has adopted a somewhat more
statist approach to economic development. Finally, Duterte’s selective pandering to 1960s-style anti-U.S. nationalism,
which exaggerates the influence of the United States and sometimes is used to deflect public attention away from the
shortcomings of far more important domestic actors, is an unwelcome development.

Looking ahead, it seems likely that there will be a continuing struggle between elites and other groups who desire a
strongman and those who believe in the desirability of democracy, even the flawed version that has been practiced in
the Philippines. The best-case scenario is a gradual reassertion of checks and balances brought about by a softening of
public support for Duterte, a growing recognition of the damage being done to Philippine democracy, and more unified
and effective pushback against his antidemocratic actions. But it is also possible that the country’s contentious politics
could move in dangerous directions. This might be the case if Duterte declares nationwide martial law or manages to
ram through major changes to the 1987 constitution. Alternatively, if Duterte, who is in poor health, were to resign or be
incapacitated before the end of his term, members of his coalition might try to block Vice President Robredo from
succeeding him. Under any of these scenarios, there is a risk of mass mobilization (both for and against Duterte) that
could lead to extraconstitutional and potentially violent forms of people power. This popular uprising, in turn, could
tempt or compel the PNP and AFP to take sides. The Philippines would then be in perilous, uncharted territory.

AMERICAN SUPPORT FOR HUMAN RIGHTS AND DEMOCRACY IN THE PHILIPPINES

American diplomats often boast of the strong people-to-people connections that exist between the United States and
the Philippines, principally because of the large Filipino-American community in the United States. But America’s
institutional engagement with the Philippines is surprisingly thin, even though the country is a former colony, a major
treaty ally, and a fellow democracy. There are two reasons for this state of affairs. First, historically the bilateral
relationship has been dominated by military/security ties, key elements of which include the 1951 Mutual Defense
Treaty, the presence of two massive U.S. military bases in the Philippines until the early 1990s, the post-9/11 Global War
on Terror, and most recently the U.S. response to China’s assertion of sovereignty in the South China Sea. Second, the
Philippines’ moderately sized economy has been less open to foreign investment and less export-oriented than many
other East Asian economies. As a result, though U.S.-Philippines economic ties are not insignificant, they are small
compared to the United States’ relations with larger and more open economies in the region.

U.S.-PHILIPPINES RELATIONS: LESS THAN MEETS THE EYE

During the Obama and Aquino presidencies, the bilateral relationship was the most cordial it had been since the Fidel
Ramos administration (1992–1998). During the six-month period following the election of Duterte and before the
election of Donald Trump, the bilateral relationship went into a downward spiral. The nadir came in early September
2016, prior to the Association of South East Asian Nations (ASEAN) summit in Laos, when it was reported that President
Obama would raise human rights issues in his one-on-one meeting with Duterte. In a news conference before the
summit, Duterte angrily rejected being lectured by Obama and famously said, “Son of a whore, I will curse you in that
forum.”69 In response, Obama canceled the meeting with Duterte. In September 2016, $4.5 million in U.S. State
Department funding intended to assist Philippine law enforcement was shifted to maritime security. In November of the
same year, the State Department suspended the sale of 26,000 military assault rifles to the PNP. The arrival of a new
U.S. ambassador, Sung Kim, in early December, a month after Trump’s election, provided an opportunity to reset the
bilateral relationship.

Today, U.S. foreign policy is shaped by a president who expresses admiration for authoritarian rulers and has shown
little interest in defending human rights and democracy. The Duterte administration is pro-China, much more
transactional in its relationship with the United States, and intolerant of any foreign criticism of human rights abuses
associated with his drug war. Washington now finds itself with limited influence with regard to the Duterte government.
Unlike China and Japan, the U.S. government cannot compel American corporations to fund large infrastructure
investments.70 Moreover, the Philippines is not dependent on foreign aid, so it can take or leave US development
assistance. This is exactly what it did in December 2017, when Manila withdrew from being considered for a second
Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) compact worth over $400 million. The Philippines no longer met the MCC’s
minimum requirements in the areas of rule of law and controlling corruption, so it withdrew in order to avoid the
embarrassment of being turned down by the MCC Board of Directors.

The nongovernmental foundations of U.S.-Philippine relations are also surprisingly weak. University-to-university ties are
limited, and only a few American universities offer Philippine studies. The involvement of American foundations—even
those that traditionally have had an interest in Southeast Asia such as the Ford, Henry Luce, and Open Society
Foundations—is minimal. And in the realm of public diplomacy, the passage of time has diminished the ranks and
influence of champions of close U.S.-Philippines relations such as former senators John McCain and Richard Lugar,
former representative Stephen Solarz, former secretary of state George Shultz, and former ambassadors Stephen
Bosworth and Nicholas Platt, all of whom have died or retired.

THE TIMID AMERICAN RESPONSE TO THE DUTERTE GOVERNMENT’S SUBVERSION OF HUMAN RIGHTS AND DEMOCRACY

Since Donald Trump became president, the U.S. government has avoided saying or doing anything that might alienate
Duterte. During the first half of 2017, the scale and brutality of Duterte’s drug war became irrefutably clear in major
reports by Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, as well as by powerful photojournalism by the Philippine
Daily Inquirer, Reuters, and the New York Times. Despite this, in late April 2017, in a phone conversation with Duterte,
Trump told him: “I just wanted to congratulate you because I am hearing of the unbelievable job on the drug problem. . .
. Many countries have the problem, we have a problem, but what a great job you are doing and I just wanted to call and
tell you that.”71 He also invited Duterte to the White House—an invitation Duterte later declined.

When the State Department was headed by Rex Tillerson and was itself in turmoil, the U.S. government was largely
silent regarding the drug war and human rights abuses. In August 2017, when Tillerson met with Duterte at the ASEAN
summit in Manila, their discussion focused on the Marawi crisis and terrorism and did not include the human rights
violations associated with the drug war. The State Department’s 2017 human rights report on the Philippines
acknowledged that “extrajudicial killings have been the chief human rights concern in the country for many years and,
after a sharp rise with the onset of the antidrug campaign in 2016, they continued in 2017. . . . Concerns about police
impunity increased significantly following the sharp increase in police killings.” However, it seemed to suggest that the
drug-related EJKs were not all that different from other human rights abuses in the Philippines.72

In June 2018, the United States joined thirty-seven other members (out of forty-seven total) of the United Nations
Human Rights Council to sign a statement on human rights in the Philippines issued by the government of Iceland:

We urge the government of the Philippines to take all necessary measures to bring killings associated with the campaign
against illegal drugs to an end and cooperate with the international community to investigate all related deaths and hold
perpetrators accountable. . . . While acknowledging that drug use in the Philippines is a serious problem, actions to
tackle drug abuse must be carried out in full respect of the rule of law and compliance with international human rights
obligations.73

This statement appears to be the strongest public statement with which the U.S. government has been associated, but it
received little attention in the media. On the same day this statement was issued, the United States pulled out of the
Human Rights Council.

The U.S. Congress expressed some initial concern over the situation in the Philippines, but has not taken any meaningful
action. In May 2017, senators Ben Cardin and Marco Rubio introduced a bill, the Philippines Human Rights
Accountability and Counter Narcotics Act of 2017 (S 1055), which would restrict arms sales to the PNP and provide up to
$25 million in fiscal years 2017 and 2018 to support human rights groups and assist the Philippines in dealing with its
drug problem. The bill was referred to the Foreign Relations Committee and has languished there since. In the House of
Representatives, in July 2017 the Tom Lantos Human Rights Commission held a hearing on “The Human Rights
Consequences of the War on Drugs in the Philippines” that was highly critical of Duterte’s war on drugs. But there has
been no subsequent action.

Although the U.S. embassy in Manila might be engaged in quiet diplomacy regarding human rights, conversations with
Filipino human rights leaders suggest that little has taken place. USAID’s Democracy, Human Rights and Governance
(DRG) portfolio in the Philippines funds conventional rule-of-law, civil society, and local governance programs, but stays
well clear of anything that addresses democratic backsliding. Because of their dependency on USAID and State
Department funding, democracy promotion organizations like Freedom House, the National Democratic Institute, and
the International Republican Institute have not responded in a major way. The Asia Foundation in the Philippines, which
relies more on Australian than U.S. funding, does some work on the rule of law, but also shies away from anything that
might antagonize the Duterte government. Only the National Endowment for Democracy has significantly increased its
funding in support of democracy in the Philippines, from under $500,000 in 2015 to over $1 million in 2017.

THE CASE FOR A MORE ROBUST AMERICAN RESPONSE

Nancy Bermeo has observed, “When backsliding yields situations that are fluid and ill-defined, taking action to defend
democracy becomes particularly difficult.”74 This is true for “small d” democrats both inside the Philippines and abroad.
Given the long-standing dominance of U.S. military and security interests and the Trump administration’s lack of interest
in defending democracy, it is especially difficult for the U.S. government to formulate a suitable response.

Still, the United States has a unique historical relationship with the Philippines, one that needs to be considered
alongside purely strategic considerations. The Philippines’ political system is modeled after America’s, and for more than
a century the Philippine elite’s attitudes and behavior have been shaped by America’s influence on the country’s
educational system, economy, and politics. The U.S. government has long and influential relations with the AFP and, to a
lesser extent, the Philippine police. And when Philippine leaders have shown a commitment to democratic politics and
governance, the U.S. government has been quick to proclaim solidarity. Therefore, at a time when human rights and
democracy are under attack in the Philippines, the U.S. government and American NGOs ought to support Filipino-led
efforts to defend human rights and democracy. Doing so would have the added benefit of showing Filipinos that the
U.S.-Philippine relationship is not only about advancing U.S. security and economic interests.

Moreover, the Philippines is not China, Vietnam, or Cambodia, where the prospects for democracy are negligible in the
short to medium term. The situation in the Philippines is dynamic, and investments in human rights and democracy have
the potential to make a difference. Despite Duterte’s efforts to weaken checks on his power, there are civil society,
media, religious, and educational organizations—and even some members of the business elite— that are committed to
defending democracy. Like Trump in the United States, Duterte has become a catalyst for a struggle between vastly
different visions of what kind of country the Philippines can and should be. This is a contest Filipino democrats need to
win; but in doing so, they will need to offer something better than just a return to the pre-Duterte status quo.

Naturally, there are no quick or easy fixes. The goal of more robust American support for democracy in the Philippines
should be twofold: first and most immediately, to promote greater solidarity among “small-d” democrats in the
Philippines, the United States, and around the world, and second, to improve and expand the sharing of ideas and
strategies for how to defend and strengthen democratic institutions and norms. Illustratively, in the near term, the
United States could support Filipino efforts on the following fronts:

improve understanding in the Philippines of effective approaches to countering illegal drugs;

develop effective responses to the Duterte government’s anti–human rights narrative and broaden the community of
human rights supporters and activists; and

promote solidarity and sharing lessons for defending human rights and democracy by supporting visits to the Philippines
of human rights advocates, democratic political leaders, and scholars on democracy.

Longer term, Americans and Filipinos should work together to address common challenges to preserving and improving
democracy. This could include joint efforts to:

improve the role of media/social media in democracy;

reform political finance and strengthen political parties;

strengthen school-based and civic education on human rights and democracy; and

build university-to-university ties, including scholarly collaboration on key aspects of Philippine politics and society (such
as poverty and inequality, criminality and the illicit economy, Supreme Court decisionmaking, and the political role of the
middle class).

Finally, a U.S. House of Representatives controlled by the Democrats holds out the possibility of greater congressional
attention to the situation in the Philippines. Members of Congress should consider pushing the Trump administration to
apply Magnitsky Global Act sanctions to current and former PNP leaders responsible for EJKs.

A more robust American response will prompt some Filipinos to accuse the United States of meddling in the Philippines’
domestic affairs. Duterte’s supporters will almost certainly portray it as effort to destabilize his government. Therefore,
support must be transparent and nonpartisan, and those providing it will need to be prepared to take some heat.
Ideally, this should not be a solely American project—it should involve democratic groups elsewhere, including in
Australia, Canada, Europe, Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan.

As long as strategic and security interests dominate U.S. policy toward the Philippines, and with the U.S. Congress largely
consumed with domestic politics, it is unlikely that the U.S. government will take meaningful steps to support human
rights and democracy in the Philippines. Therefore, American NGOs, foundations, and universities will need to step up
and take the lead. But ultimately, it will be the actions of Filipino democrats that matter most.