The Ecological Debt: What Humanity Owes the Future (Second of a series)

(Also published by The Manila Times on 5 September 2026.)

The mango tree above me stands in a place quite distant from the woods that Robert Frost felt strongly about in his poem. But it similarly offers a quiet, alluring peace of nature; lovely, bright, and deep in its symbolism.

It stands like a lonely lobby for an accounting of what had been lost due to ignorance and greed. Will humanity be able to settle its ecological debt before it sleeps, before the close of the age—an ending it caused because it failed to act in time? The late Father Roque Feriols SJ, a Filipino Jesuit priest, said: “When everything that needs to be said has been said, the only thing left unsaid is the action.”

This may sound like a sore policy brief. But jumping to global parallels is simply hard to ignore.

The United Nations reports that the world is currently off track to meet both the Paris Agreement net-zero goals and the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) for the environment, saying, “While wealthy nations have met their baseline financial promises on paper, independent watchdogs argue that their actual structural contribution falls far short of addressing global ecological crises.”

The basic aim of the Paris Agreement is to limit global warming to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. It is a legally binding international treaty on climate change. Its overarching goal is to hold “the increase in the global average temperature to well below 2°C above pre-industrial levels” and pursue efforts “to limit the temperature increase to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels.”

The agreement was adopted by 195 Parties at the UN Climate Change Conference (COP21) in Paris, France, on 12 December 2015. It entered into force on 4 November 2016. As of 2026, there are 194 Parties to the Paris Agreement. The United States of America, historically the world’s largest emitter of greenhouse gases, left the group not once, but twice.

Under President Barack Obama, the U.S. became one of the original agreement signatories. The US disengaged in 2020 during the first term of President Donald Trump. A year later, President Joe Biden assumed office and forthwith re-committed the US to be a party to the accord. But when Trump returned to the White House in 2026, he again initiated an exit process that formalized the US’s second withdrawal from the Paris Agreement.

According to a United Nations Environment Programme Emissions Gap Report, the global community is heading toward severe climate risks. The report recommends that “global greenhouse gas emissions must drop 55% by 2035 to maintain the 1.5°C pathway. “

However, at the present rate the national climate commitments (Nationally Determined Contributions or NDCs) are moving, estimates that global emissions will be reduced by only 12% by 2035. Achieving global net-zero by 2050 without significantly overshooting the temperature limit has now become “increasingly unlikely.”

The UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) Report similarly paints a grim picture for environmental metrics. With only four years left until the 2030 deadline, the structural implementation of sustainability goals is fundamentally lagging.

The overall scorecard shows that “only about 35% to 36% of all measurable SDG targets are on track or making modest progress. Nearly half are moving too slowly, and roughly 15–18% are actively regressing… There are critical environmental failures in the promotion of sustainable cities (SDG 11), climate action (SDG 13), life below water (SDG 14), and life on land (SDG 15)—all of which are deemed deeply off track or stagnating worldwide. Carbon Dioxide (CO₂) levels are the highest humanity has seen in over two million years.”

Whether wealthy, developed nations (the historical drivers of emissions) are fulfilling their duties or not is debatable. On paper, developed countries have officially exceeded the historic $100 billion annual climate finance goal for three consecutive years, with around $136.7 billion having been reported as being mobilized or earmarked for mobilization. Domestically, many wealthy countries have accelerated their internal transitions to renewable energy, which is currently the fastest-rising source of power globally.

But humanitarian organizations like Oxfam argue that the actual economic value of the climate finance provided is closer to $33 billion to $45 billion, which is only a third of what is claimed. This is because rich nations count commercial-rate loans (which trap poorer nations in debt) as "climate aid" instead of providing direct financial grants.

The hurdles do not appear to be easing. More recent projections indicate that the global climate finance target has ballooned to $300 billion annually from developed countries, with total required investments sitting closer to $1.3 trillion per year by 2035. Yet major historic polluters like the United States contribute only about 8% of the global total of international climate finance, lagging behind multilateral development banks.

International index rankings show that while European nations score the highest in internal sustainability, their high-income domestic consumption and trade systems continue to generate massive negative ecological impacts on the rest of the world, notably the poorer countries. 

The structural architecture of global supply chains facilitates a massive transfer of biophysical wealth. By externalizing the material costs of high-consumption lifestyles through negative spillovers—such as localized habitat destruction and toxic runoff—wealthy consumer nations accumulate a compounding ecological debt owed to the exploited ecosystems and communities of the global South.

Over the years, key supply chain spillover channels have impacted unevenly upon the global population:

·        Ecological Asymmetry: Wealthy nations import clean finished goods while outsourcing resource-heavy, highly polluting raw extraction and refining processes to poorer nations.

·        Transnational Degradation: Environmental damage—such as severe deforestation not only for timber products but also for minerals, and toxic chemical leaks into vital water basins—remains locked inside the exporting country.

·        Health and Social Costs: Local populations in production zones suffer from respiratory illnesses, displaced communities, and lost agricultural land, none of which are paid for by the final buyer.

·        Regulatory Arbitrage: Multi-national brands intentionally position dangerous parts of their supply chains in regions with weak environmental laws to keep market prices artificially low.

The Ecological Debt: What Humanity Owes the Future (First of a series)

I raise chickens at the backyard of the house.

(This article was also published by The Manila Times on 29 August 2026.)

The floods—made more morbid by tales of corruption and the recent deadly strike somewhere in Nepal—prompt me to take another hard look at how we relate to nature.

Fifty years ago, while still a teenager, I helped my parents till a small rice field. Often, family members did the cultivation, planting, and weeding. Farm workers always helped, having seen how the other rice farmers did it. But paying for their wages would have been costly, and we were usually short on cash. We had relative plenty from survival crops like camote and gabi because my parents—Hilario and Maria—also worked hard on our upland farms during the rice-farming offseason.

My hometown in Eastern Samar lacked rice fields. But I liked rice farming because I had other interests. I loved snaring wild birds and putting them in cages. There were schools and schools of them in rice fields during summer, when the fields turned golden, the time crops announced they were ready for harvest. Like us humans, other living creatures were drawn to the free food. There were red maya (Lonchura atricapilla) birds that could cover whole fields when they descended from neighboring valleys. Flying together, they formed like a giant Arabian rug, hovering in a variety of shapes most likely orchestrated by how the winds blew, or wherever the scarecrows surprised them, before landing on their feast.

Yonder, farther afield at the edge of valleys where sloping hills came into view, were dalakit (Ficus philippinensis) trees that stooped to almost ground level when heavy with ripe fruit. Their branches drooped even more when a variety of other birds, wild pigeons and korokoro (Phapitreron leucotis) among them, feasted on the fruits. The flapping of their wings in a feeding frenzy was a stunning sight.

But I spent most of my time around the rice fields where quails were easier to trap. Like mice, this mostly pedestrian, pint-sized bird has a big appetite for grains, especially rice. Hours on end under the midday sun, I set traps between stalks of native rice—which were much taller than what the rice farmers plant today—and seemingly oblivious of the heat. 

I’m not sure now if I did it for reasons other than vanity. The bird meat, when cooked over an open fire, smelt like any other protein-rich food. My friends and I sometimes gathered to barbecue them. They were delicious to the taste. But being small, they hardly satisfied hungry bellies. No meal was worth the effort required to cook and set them out on the table. Other ends could hardly be justified as well. Not being born to be domesticated, they could not be tamed and kept as pets for longer than a couple of weeks. In the end, these irreplaceable treasures of nature were simply wasted.

At 66, I feel like a remorseful accountant. The examination of how I contributed to the melancholic poverty of nature is a sobering thought. Under a mango tree, in a place where I grew up before the search for livelihood sent me to faraway places, the table with either a laptop or a chess board on top of it has yet to materialize. I have long desired to set this table up. To me, chess or writing can consume the hours otherwise claimed by a conscience nagged with remorse. But, somehow, the work had not kept pace with the desire. There are raw materials nearby, mostly scraps of hardwood probably discarded years ago. What adds to the lack of will is that neither the laptop nor the chessboard exists.

This nook is in the backyard, just a few steps from the old house my maternal grandfather built two years before I was born. He built it with hardwood—concrete materials being mostly unheard of in that era. Yet it has survived the most devastating typhoons that hit the country, including the 2013 Super Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan) that claimed no less than 6,300 Filipino lives and left almost two million families homeless. No other proof of his elite craftsmanship can be more compelling. But quite unlike him, I could not get around to building this table even in my idle time.

I also have the weather to blame. An hour of downpour would leave the mango tree flooded for several days. This has been a good enough excuse for me to postpone putting in the woodwork needed to assemble the fixture. Every time I look up and see the clouds gathering low, rain is sure to follow, even during summertime. I could tell this was not how it used to be. It makes me miss my youth in the rice fields when the climate kept the seasons true to their calendar. Today, the seasons have lost their rhythm. It can rain any hour. The sun may or may not show up at all. Or it shines imposingly, generating heat beyond bearable levels.     

So, the table under the mango remains unticked among the priority to-do list. I realize now that many things are left undone despite keeping oneself busy in one's youth. The lifespan of Filipino males averages at 67 to 71 years, so the pressure to rush things up a bit mounts, knowing there is little time left while there are still lots of promises to keep, “before I sleep.”

When Robert Frost wrote in 1922 the following lines: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep," he painted the contrasting colors of a quiet, alluring peace of nature with that of a restless pull of social duties and human obligation.  

When courage is gone

The Manila Times cartoon, 4 June 2025

It's tough to see the Senate unable to stand up for something. It looks as if it is spineless.

Bum bones are sorry signs of paralysis. The disorder makes human faculties visceral. It addles one's resolve, implodes the will, prompts weaklings to scurry for an easy way out, minding convenience but never minding damning the rules. All told, this is a case of courage deserting grown women and men.

The post-election temperature has dropped, but the impeachment case against Vice President Sara Duterte remains a political hot potato that most senators are unwilling to touch.

When the Senate shelved the case four month ago, disrespecting its own rules and the mandate of the Constitution no less, Senate President Francis Escudero explained that the legislative calendar offered little room for the chamber he heads to convene as an impeachment court. He went on to offer a date—June 2—in which the trial could begin. Last week, the date has been moved to June 11, again supposedly to ensure that nothing gets in the way of lawmaking.

Part of the existing Senate rules on impeachment provides that on “xxx the day appointed for the trial of an impeachment, the legislative business of the Senate, if there be any, shall be suspended” (Rule X). This is compelling enough as to suggest that legislative work must yield to impeachment proceedings, as Senate Minority Leader Aquilino Pimentel III has explained. He and Senator Risa Hontiveros are about the only dissenting voices in a room that keeps finding ways to delay Duterte’s trial.

That Escudero and most senators could go as far as to make light the intent not only of Senate rules but even of the Constitution has given rise to the suspicion that, at best, they pander to public perception (as suggested by surveys, for example) and, at worst, they are owned by fear of Duterte. Article XI, Section 4 in the 1987 Constitution says that “In case the verified complaint or resolution of impeachment is filed by at least one-third of all the Members of the House, the same shall constitute the Articles of Impeachment, and trial by the Senate shall forthwith proceed.” 

At a time when Duterte continues to enjoy public approval, survey-based decision making lowers the bar of governance. It is disappointing enough that the election process is largely a function of popularity, but for the administration of justice and of accountability to now be captive of popularity is a new low. 

There is a historical backdrop by which today’s Senate is measured.

In 1991, the late then President Corazon Aquino sent to the Senate a treaty for ratification. The treaty (RP-US Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation and Peace) sought the continued presence of US military bases in the country. But despite strong public support for the bases (Aquino even braved a downpour to lead a march to the Senate by like-minded lobbyists), the Senate mustered enough votes to reject the treaty. 

Twelve senators, later labelled by media as “The Magnificent 12,” stood up to show courage in the defense of their conviction. They consisted of then Senate President Jovito Salonga, Agapito Aquino, Juan Ponce Enrile, Joseph Estrada, Teofisto Guingona Jr., Sotero Laurel, Orlando Mercado, Ernesto Maceda, Aquilino Pimentel Jr, Victor Ziga, Rene Saguisag, and Wigberto Tañada. 

For being unmindful of what the survey said (at a time when pollsters enjoyed credibility), these stubborn senators would soon suffer whipping at the polls. Salonga, alongside Pimentel, ran for president and vice-president, respectively, in 1992 and was roundly defeated. They placed last among six contenders for the same position. 

Unlike the 1991 version, today’s Senate appears more driven by public perception than the moral suasion of what they believe in, especially on matters of national interests whose ends require ways and means that go beyond individual preferences. People learn their lessons, and politicians are better off being popular than being grounded in character.

Today’s leaders, rightly or wrongly, may even raise the issue of the Senate’s non-ratification of the treaty in 1991 as the lid that years later would open risks of territorial grab in West Philippine Sea. The establishment of an independent foreign policy would always remain ideal; but pragmatism comes around to knock idealism crashing back to earth, as the country now endures the constant threat of aggression by another country. Aquino’s predecessor, Marcos Sr., played the China card to compel the US support for his floundering government, and the Senate of 1991 has no card to play except national pride for having won democracy back from the dictator.

Rightly or wrongly, today’s leaders are wary of Duterte who, as the vice president, can be president in the future, maybe sooner than later. Let no one forget that she is the daughter of a former president who embraced China in such a scale similar to how he despised the US. She has said nothing inimical against China despite its rank disrespect of the country’s territorial rights.

This is the same person who now stands accused before the Senate for allegedly committing several impeachable offenses, including graft and corruption. The Senate looks at the allegations like they are inconsequential, judging from the way it keeps moving the penciled hearing date. 

Are the senators unable to cope with a heavy workload? 

Long hours of committee work often go into significant pieces of legislation. But about the only task that both the House and the Senate are really good at is passing the annual budget of the national government. And that is largely because there is in it for each one of them. Being good at the task does not mean ensuring that people's money would be spent where its optimal use is offered; it means ensuring that each one will have a piece of the outsized and constantly growing budget by way of kickbacks.

Or maybe they are simply scared of Duterte. Once upon a time there was a magnificent 12. Now there are only 2. 

-------

The Manila Times, 4 June 2025

A must-follow Musk

 

DOGE's Elon Musk

"A must-follow Musk" was also published by The Manila Times on 19 February 2025.

Elon Musk heads the novel United States government's Department of Efficiency (DOGE). He is on a mission and by all accounts appears determined to cut his government's spending down to a bloody pulp, leaving what he deems as non-essentials gasping for air. Having the distinction of being the world's wealthiest individual is immaterial to how he carries out his tasks, I suppose, except that the world listens to what he says. While some people talk and others produce, he does both; that’s the difference between the one who is sensible and the other who is an idiot.   

What has he done so far?

On DOGE’s directive, the Office of Personnel Management has sent “a fork in the road” letters to some two million federal employees asking them to voluntarily resign. The blood-letting assault initially targets those with little or no job security. In Dubai last Thursday, February 13, Musk remotely told participants in the 2025 World Governments Summit that he was "helping 'America, Inc.' engage in a sort of 'corporate turnaround' that should include deleting entire agencies."

He further said that "it's kind of like leaving a weed: If you don't remove the roots of the weed, then it's easy for the weed to grow back. But if you remove the roots of the weed it doesn't stop weeds from ever growing back, but it makes it harder."

First to go was US Agency for International Development (USAID), the soft component of the US strategy for promoting its imperialist hegemony. More agencies suspected of heavily losing public funds to fraud are under scrutiny. USAID contracts have been summarily terminated, risking a flurry of suits from aggrieved parties. Already, a District of Columbia judge has issued a temporary restraining order that lifts the ban on disbursement of USAID funds for programs that existed before the Trump administration assumed office on January 20, 2025.

In less than a month, Musk's cost-cutting rampage has reportedly generated more than a billion dollars in savings for the US government. DOGE twitted on 29 January that "...85 DEIA related contracts totaling ~$1B have been terminated” in at least 25 federal agencies.

What Musk has shown with his actions is sensitivity to taxpayers. Somebody like him is what our country needed ages ago. The need for efficiency rises by the hour, given how the government limps under the weight of deficit spending and a mood-meter hitting at a high of 61-percent debt-to-GDP ratio. An indicator of a country’s ability to service its debt, that ratio has averaged 55 percent from 1990 to 2022.

Musk is antidote to political patronage and offers a must-follow template for Philippine politics that for so long has been exploiting government spending for partisan political ends. How malignant the political culture is becomes evident when weeds sprout in the bureaucracy. A quick example is the 315-member House of Representatives with nine deputy speakers. At least six of these deputies can be excised like an appendix without compromising the overall well-being of the institution, generating millions of savings for the taxpayer.

Another example, distant yet relevant, would be the establishment of over 200 government corporations during the rule of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. Most of these state firms hardly performed; they neither addressed the problems for which they were created nor generated profits for the government. But they built lasting vestiges of patronage, paying dividends decades later when members of his family recaptured the political glory they temporarily lost. His son, Bongbong Marcos Jr., eventually rose to become president, matching the level of success his father achieved.      

When Cory Aquino rose to power following a peaceful revolt that ousted Marcos Sr. in 1986, she offered early retirement benefits for those who wished to resign in ways that are similar to what Musk is doing now. The aim was two-fold: generate savings for a bankrupt government and trim the bureaucracy of its excess fat.  

The Aquino cost-cutting initiatives did not attract a following, however, as succeeding governments allowed the weeds Musk is wary of to grow and regrow. Under the Department of Agriculture (DA), we have bureaus of plant industry, animal industry, a national dairy industry, a carabao center, a rice research institute, a national food authority, among a bunch of other attached offices, and yet we import heavily on rice, beef, livestock, dairy, and other agricultural products. It is time for a Musk-like surgery involving agencies that do not deliver.

The Department of Public Works and Highways depends on private contractors to get its job done.  Why not abolish it, hire a fraud-free procurement agent, and let local governments supervise the works?

Exploiting the bureaucracy for political patronage is perhaps less of an issue than ensuring the optimal use of taxpayer’s money, given that automation offers government opportunities to make its operations more efficient. The city government of Manila maintains hundreds of politically appointed personnel in its payroll, and many of them are tasked with keeping the records for its elderly constituents. Yet in more than three years of my being enrolled as one of Manila’s senior citizens, I have been deprived of benefits because city hall records are deficient. In a street intersection in Makati City, a swarm of city government personnel apprehended a solitary jaywalker (who happened to be me, having crossed one-fourth of Gil Puyat Avenue away from the designated pedestrian lane).

The twin goal of service delivery and of rewarding partisan supporters with public funds entails opportunity costs by which taxpayers can only hope they are served in some other way. Makati deserves credit for championing anti-jaywalking, but Manila, for its bum records in the age of digitalization, simply sucks. 

Let the politicians win the vote. But here’s hoping that, armed with an electoral mandate, they follow Musk’s lead to make the taxpayers happy. Management guru Peter Drucker once said that “management is doing things right; leadership is doing the right things.” Government is called upon not only to be efficient but to be effective as well.

My Lord, my God

"My Lord, my God" was also published by The Manila Times on 15 January 2025.

 

I TURNED 65 today. My story mirrors the changing mood of the past few weeks and shortly thereafter: from cheer to grief and back to cheer.

It is like how the feeling of joy during Christmas turns to grief during Good Friday in just about nine weeks. But Easter Sunday follows in three days, and a profound rejoicing awaits the faithful.

And here I try to relate my story — unfit as I am — to the irreplaceable roles of Mary, Peter and Thomas. Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, did not doubt her God. But apostles Peter and Thomas did.

In a flash of an unguarded moment, Peter tried to save his own skin by denying his association with the master when accosted by authorities who were under orders to apprehend all supporters of Jesus. Jesus was already in the custody of his accusers and barely hours away from his death on the cross in Calvary.

"Doubting" Thomas was not a fan of hearsay. He dismissed tales his fellow apostles told him that Jesus was alive and, on several occasions, had, in fact, entered their heavily locked safehouse unaided. No one on their own had ever come back to life days after his or her death, in the flesh as they told him, so he probably doubted that even his master could pull off the unprecedented feat. Unless he saw it for himself, Thomas vowed not to take the news seriously.

Thinking of Thomas, I woke up one morning to find how I made it hard for the Lord to get me closer to him. Like many elderly people, I look forward to days of relative ease. And like many wage earners, this should be the time I start receiving pension and insurance benefits. None of them excite me. I did not save enough to qualify for any of those old-age incomes.

For one who started working at 19 and still grinding it out at 63, my career track is probably not a good model for young people who are about to join the labor force. Most of my employment (at least 23 years in government and about the same length of time in nongovernment and multilateral agencies) was on contractual terms with no employer-employee relationships. I did not get access to retirement benefits from them.

It was up to me to pay my insurance premiums, and I was remiss in this obligation. I also bought insurance policies from at least three private insurance firms on separate occasions but allowed them to lapse after contributing several monthly payments.

What I should have set aside as insurance contributions went to various investments that floundered. Somehow, I always thought when I was younger that I could outwork the system, including the provision for old-age pensions.

The past 12 months were particularly tough for me and my family. I knocked on doors to ask for gigs and all sorts of livelihood opportunities, but none opened for me like they used to. I could no longer sell my crafts.

Often, there was no hint of where our next sack of rice was coming from. Debts are in arrears. Some lenders threaten me with either court or barangay invites. Unpaid bills pile up. While waiting for the ejection notice from the administrator of the apartment where my family rented a unit in the city, my wife and I retreated to our hometown in the Visayas. This left the rest of my family to fend for themselves. I have two adopted children—a son who has his own family and a daughter who is in high school — who light up my days and for whom I am happy to toil.

There is a gripping sense of insecurity that brings everyone's morale down. The toughest part is missing the smile of my grandkids who I long to see after months of separation.

I cannot recall ever praying to my God, the same God of Peter and Thomas, as hard as I did. I asked for a livelihood in the name of my family, thinking especially of my children and grandchildren. The God of mercy, if ever he existed, heard none of my petitions. Or if he heard them, he dismissed them. For months, we barely got by even a pauper's standard; my wife and I lived practically from alms. Failure to provide for family needs turned pressure moments into despair. The pride I once basked in was gone. It reached a point where, like Thomas, I doubted the presence of the Lord. If he existed, I questioned the power of his presence.

And yet, despite the turbulence of my faith, I am here. For now, I appear to have survived — perhaps in better shape than millions more out there. Somebody must have willed it. While I sulked, the God of mercy was hard at work, after all. He may have ignored my prayers, but, to my belated realization, he provides something even for the undeserving. He dumped my wishes to remind me that I know nothing of his ways. The God I doubted and questioned did not doubt the capacity of relatives, my siblings especially, to offer help. Despite their own struggles, they kept me going.

May God grant us the time and strength to glorify him, to happily requite acts of kindness everywhere, and to justify the love by which he built a home for his people on earth ... and beyond.

Duterte's tarnished legacy

This article was also published by The Manila Times on 18 December 2024.

WHEN he was president, Mr. Rodrigo Duterte kept the nation spellbound for his awe-inspiring leadership. He held the grip of an enthralled, almost fanatical, mob of supporters. No post-EDSA president has enjoyed as much positive trust and approval ratings as he did.

Fellow politicians and officials of government competed for superlatives to flatter him. They pandered to him and pimped for his approval.

But now, as a private citizen, he is not above questioning. The perception that he plans to recapture political power either for himself or through his surrogates, and therefore seen as getting in the way of another politician's ambition, enlarges his portrait as an object of doubt. From sandy mounds of shifting loyalty, he pops up like cannon fodder. Hecklers are hitting him at will. Not that he is in unfamiliar territory; he has been around long enough to know how to hit and how one gets hit in the game of power politics. Democracy, after all, is better served not by goodwill but by the ambition of men.

A phalanx of committees at the Speaker Martin Romualdez-led House of Representatives has launched an investigation that uncovered the sludge underneath the glow of Mr. Duterte's popularity. Romualdez is a first cousin of President Bongbong Marcos and is rumored to be the administration's bet for the presidential election in 2028 and a possible rival of Mr. Duterte's daughter, Vice President Sara Duterte, for the same position.

Though panicky when he appeared before these committees, Duterte under investigation (DUI) should be a vindicating process for him if he is clean or a foretaste of hell if he is not. In the meantime, he must welcome whatever public forum is accorded to him. He enjoys a constitutional right that was denied to thousands whose lives his war on drugs had claimed. Most of these killings were reported by the police as unresolved and swept under the rug as DUIs (deaths under investigation).

That investigation, which is still ongoing and happening while another investigation has raised doubts about Sara's own integrity with respect to her use of confidential funds, dampens support for both Dutertes. For Mr. Duterte especially, the investigation has punched holes in a reputation that he built for decades, starting as mayor of Davao City. He was acclaimed for a leadership brand that was almost synonymous with political will and one that separated him from other political leaders. But that same reputation now looks like a façade, one that is mounted on a pile of lies and is about ready to crumble.

For how long will Duterte's world of make-believe keep spinning?

Between now and up to the time the people find merit in the House quad committee report exposing his lies is what should be left before a grand deception is undressed for what it is.

Citing sworn statements and testimonies presented before it, the quad committee the other day revealed what it found after conducting 13 days of fact-finding sessions on the drug war waged by the previous administration. The salient findings are damning: that the former president was the lord of all drug lords; that while he projected the image of an uncompromising champion of the herculean fight against illegal drugs, he was at the center of a criminal enterprise; and that this mafia-like enterprise diversified into fraudulent transactions that showed how his minions took advantage of the government's flawed procurement system and the corruption of state regulatory agencies.

Even before he became president, Duterte's association with Michael Young, who operated several shabu laboratories in Davao City, ticks key boxes that show the former president was himself a protector and gang leader among drug lords, according to Arturo Lascanas. The quad committee probe started and may end with Lascanas, the retired policeman who admitted being one of then Mayor Duterte's hitmen. The Lascanas affidavit — the same statement that charges Duterte for crimes against humanity in a complaint filed with the International Criminal Court in The Hague — underpins the committee's key findings that debunk Duterte being the anti-illegal drug champion that he projected himself to be, but rather the lord of all drug lords in the southern Philippines.

When he became president, Duterte appointed Michael Yang, a foreigner, as his economic adviser. Yang would soon be found entrenched in government transactions overflowing with money. From the importation of multi-billion illegal drugs through the Bureau of Customs to multi-billion procurement of medical supplies and vaccines during the Covid-19 pandemic, many of them left to rot due to their substandard quality and to the rise of Pagcor-sanctioned Philippine online gaming operations (POGOs) in the country, probers could see the hand of the omnipresent Yang and his associates.

But nothing draws more suspicion to what Duterte did than the killings that happened during his dreaded war on drugs campaign. How could one kill an average of 39 suspects in one day during the first two years of his administration? What used to be hushed up when he was president, the information that shows how he rewarded the killers with money sourced from public funds, became public through the quad committee hearings. The incentive apparently worked as the killers, many of them in police uniform, went berserk. In short, Duterte used taxpayer money to kill a crime through criminal means.

Up to this point, many people believe that Duterte gets things done in ways that no other president could do. His do-something reputation remains solid up to this point. But like all things built on shifting sand, his legacy may not endure the test of time, especially under the rigor of hostile questioning. His legacy is blighted not by the questioning but by doubts that prompted the questions.

Building his image as a crime buster was costly and, in large part, paid for with the lives of thousands of mostly poor suspects. That cost can neither be counted nor paid in cash, even if one has the combined wealth of Manny Villar and Elon Musk. The lives lost cannot be replaced by any mortal power, even by a direct descendant of Abraham.

What Duterte has is a golden but fake image. The quad committee report now suggests that he used this image to conceal the truth about himself being a big dawg, the lord of drug lords, and one that must not get away from further investigation.

Machiavelli fails Rodrigo Duterte

Machiavelli fails Rodrigo Duterte was also published by The Manila Times on 16 October 2024. Photo credit: Manila Times cartoon.

NICCOLO Machiavelli's "The Prince" is every politician's handbook. Published five years after he died in 1527, the book is timeless and remains a handy pragmatic guide for rulers who need to stay in power. What it lacks is practical advice on how to prepare them for life when they are out of power.

Former president Rodrigo Duterte ran Machiavelli's playbook to perfection while he was the prince. But given that he now finds himself in a hostile political environment, what he needs now, apart from trying to regain a portion of his principality by seeking another term as mayor of Davao City, is to unlearn Machiavelli.

The Prince teaches rulers to rationalize the opportunity to use manipulation, deceit and ruthless tactics to keep their throne. Machiavelli thinks that deception is part of realpolitik's terrain. He says that it is wise for a politician to apply cunning and manipulation to get what he wants. Navigating through the rough and complex political tides requires both candor and bluffing or subterfuge.

Benefiting from hindsight on how Duterte ran the government when he was president, one can tell how he applied those Machiavellian tips, along with the following:

– A ruler must project wisdom, virtue and strength, even if he is the actual opposite in private. Machiavelli advises that "it is better for a prince to be feared than loved if he cannot be both, as fear is a more reliable means of maintaining control."

– A strong and loyal military is essential for maintaining one's grip on political power and thwarting potential threats to his or her reign.

Duterte, through projection and messaging, instilled fear in the minds of his subjects. He cursed and pointed fingers at his enemies, both real and imagined. He threatened suspected criminals with physical harm and went on to preside over a war on drugs that killed thousands of them. He wished ill health to those who he imagined were trying to undermine him, including government workers such as state auditors and those tasked with promoting human rights.

On the other hand, he pampered the men in uniform with promises of better pay. He increased their retirement benefits. He appointed many of them to high positions in government. And, if the revelations that are coming out of an ongoing congressional investigation are any indication, he offered monetary rewards to the police for every kill they carried out during the war on drugs.

The intended effect of doing what Machiavelli preaches was achieved. People feared him, and nobody dared call him the naked emperor that he was. (A few exceptions would have included then-justice secretary Leila de Lima, who attempted to investigate him when he was mayor of Davao City, but she ended up in jail when Duterte became president.) The military and the police were at his beck and call, ensuring the administration's agenda got the support it needed, including allowing the entry of Philippine offshore gaming operators (POGOs) that brought to our shores what would be like Trojan horses loaded with untold security risks.

Duterte must have made Machiavelli proud. The people regarded his presidency highly. Surveys conducted by SWS, Pulse Asia, Publicus Asia and OCTA Research showed that his approval ratings hovered at an average of 75 percent throughout the six years of his term. Pollsters considered him the most popular among post-EDSA presidents. In this respect, it is hard to dispute the Machiavelli effect on creating the mythical dome of Duterte's popularity, one that influenced how the people both feared and loved him. What is suspect is how he now copes with an administration that, halfway into its term, is busy competing for people's approval that used to be his and mostly on a broadside that must be made public at his expense.

A foretaste of that broadside has been served on the table by the ongoing congressional investigations that, seeking prompts in aid of legislation, may likewise be motivated by either a pure desire to unearth hidden truths and rectify past errors or create power shifts designed to raise a contender to the throne at the expense of another.

The quad committee at the House of Representatives has just elicited from former police colonel and Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office general manager Royina Garma the information that Duterte was on top of the drug war operation that offered output-based monetary rewards to policemen who killed drug suspects. To a person with a modicum of a sense of moral balance, such a charge should damn Duterte to the pain of being subjected to further investigation.

At the Senate, Sen. Risa Hontiveros has succeeded in steering an investigation that exposed the disease that the POGO has brought to the country and the extent it has infected the bureaucracy. The criminal content and security risks that are associated with POGOs are also, bit by bit, being attributed to the handiwork of Duterte associates. Then there is Pastor Apollo Quiboloy, the "Appointed Son of God," no less, getting undressed also by the senator as a rapist and a trafficking bandit, who happens to have a mutual fan club with Duterte and Sens. Robinhood Padilla and Cynthia Villar, among others.

And yet, it is less about the former president and more about the future president now. As the shift of political tides clears the ground for the skinning of Rodrigo Duterte, they also create the conditions for the rise of single-use henchmen that will blunt the launch of Vice President Sara Duterte for the presidency in 2028. Where before she had one of her feet planted inside the presidential door, further grooming of the daughter with her father's popularity, built on the murder of thousands of drug suspects, is now a debatable proposition.

Either of them needs to unlearn a little of Machiavelli and try to understand that shortcuts in governance, and more particularly in the administration of justice that result in summary killings, create more problems in the long term than they cure. Part of the former president's come-on is the perceived method by which he provided swift justice for the oppressed (the same perception that is creating the Tulfo brothers). Such a perception becomes more compelling at a time when people's faith in our judicial system is so low and disgustingly prone to corruption. Past, present and future rulers would instead do well to strengthen the judicial system and make it more responsive to the plight of the poor.

Less Machiavelli and more system retrofitting is not only good for institution building, but it also protects the ruler from future headwinds when he or she is out of power. It is not true that the ogre never dies; they do, except that they get resurrected in the next guy who is equally power-hungry as you once were. Democracy is served, as the saying goes, not by goodwill but by the ambition of men.