The soda the state of Duterte’s approach to governance

Ad Lib
Greg B. Macabenta

President Rodrigo Duterte may have had an audience of the most important personages in the country and the diplomatic corps, listening to his State of the Nation Address (SONA) and dutifully applauding what they thought were appropriate applause lines.

But I don’t think Duterte really meant to talk to them (except in a few instances, such as when he directly addressed Chief Justice Sereno about the near-permanent temporary restraining orders imposed by the Supreme Court).

According to the mainstream media, the day before the SONA, “the country’s business community will be glued to (Duterte’s) SONA for signs of how he plans to address its concerns in the next 12 months” including “updates” on his promises of “further cutting red tape and reducing corruption, easing traffic congestion, improving infrastructure and upholding rule of law.”

Duterte did touch on many of this, but not in the way that the business community would have wanted to hear it. You see, Duterte did not deliver a SONA. He delivered a SODA — the State of Duterte’s Approach to governance, as he felt the Filipino masses would best appreciate it.

I went over the verbatim transcription of Duterte’s speech — mostly ad libs and occasional pick-ups from the teleprompter — and I can understand why his die-hard supporters loved it and why the “intellectuals” and “policy wonks” may have taken a dim view of it.

Expectedly, this was how one daily described the SONA: “Opposition: Duterte rambled, bullied way through 2^nd ��������.”

The critics are right — if they had expected an organized, comprehensive, scholarly, diplomatic enumeration of accomplishments and future programs. In fact, I suspect that the Malacañang speech writers intended the speech of their boss to be exactly that. But, as in the past, the best laid prose of mice and communications men got displaced by Duterte’s rambling, bullying style.

And his supporters savored it.

To appreciate Duterte’s speech, one has to step into the shoes (or slippers) of the man-on-the-street and in the slums and the barangays, the soldiers and policemen, and the OFWs. The masang Pilipino.

These people react with their guts and find such esoteric concepts as “the economy” and “foreign relations” and “foreign trade” irrelevant to their hardscrabble existence — unless translated into terms that they can appreciate.

To these people, these “highfalutin’” concepts simply mean more billions for the oligarchs and the taipans and only loose change will trickle down to them. These are things they regard with cynicism.

Duterte, with his curse-laden verbiage and his seemingly incoherent, rambling style, communicates with the masa masterfully.

Even such seemingly clear-cut issues as the Philippines’ territorial claims against China in the West Philippine Sea are mitigated by the promise of billions in Chinese infrastructure aid and the faith of Duterte’s supporters that he “knows how to deal” with the foreigners (the way he is dealing with the US).

Wrote another paper: “…instead of presenting a comprehensive report of his administration’s accomplishments, Duterte used the time to slam critics….At one point in his speech, Duterte said: ‘Talagang bully ako, especially to the enemies of the state’…the SONA did not provide much in terms of policy statement.”

But these critics may have missed the possibility that, as far as Duterte was concerned, he was laying out what he considers his “policies” as president:

1. You do drugs — you die.

2. You are human rights advocates and disapprove of my anti-drug policy — you can go to hell.

3. You are corrupt officials — you get fired.

4. You exploit the country’s natural resources — you get screwed or taxed to death.

5. You are Jose Maria Sison — I no longer want to talk to you or the NDF.

6. You do not approve of my China policy — look what China is giving us in terms of aid.

7) You are the United States — you still owe us for terrorizing and exploiting us in the past.

8. You are an ordinary citizen unhappy with red tape — you can complain directly to me.

9. You are the Supreme Court — get the hell out of the way, I’m trying to do my job.

10. You are a soldier or policeman — I have your back and I’m willing to die with you.

Anyone who has shared glasses of gin with rough-hewn laborers, slum dwellers, lowly paid office clerks, or barrio folk would be familiar with this kind of macho jargon. Much of it is bluster and fantasy (“Sabi ko, bibigwasan kita!”; “Ginulpi ko nga, ang takbo niya!”).

The noisiest at the table may be scared to death of their wives, but being able to let off steam over bottles of gin is a source of self-fulfillment.

The public opinion polls reflect the effectiveness of Duterte’s SODA in titillating the fantasies of his followers. Feeling helpless before the oligarchs, corrupt politicians, and incompetent bureaucrats, they can vicariously “get even” with the exploiters when Duterte vows to “fire them” or “get rid of them.”

Frustrated over the slow pace of justice and the way money can buy the courts, they particularly love it when Duterte vows to “kill” criminals and to order his law enforcers to “shoot to kill” and “not take any prisoners.” That’s the stuff of Dirty Harry and Rambo movies.

Back when Vice-President Joseph “Erap” Estrada ran for president against House Speaker Jose de Venecia, the latter’s brother-in-law, Pepito Vera-Perez asked me why Estrada, despite being known as a womanizer, gambler, and imbiber was much more popular with the masses than De Venecia.

I reminded Pepito that as the scion of the owners of Sampaguita Pictures and Vera-Perez Productions he should realize that the same people supporting Estrada were the same folks who watched their Tagalog movies.

“If you were casting a film,” I said, “wouldn’t you cast Erap as the rough but good-hearted neighborhood wage earner and wouldn’t you cast your brother-in-law as the college boy from Manila, son of the haciendero? Which one do you think would win the hand of the farmer’s daughter?”

Pepito saw my point. De Venecia lost. Estrada won by a landslide.

The 16 million who catapulted Duterte to the presidency may regard him almost in the same light as Estrada — perhaps, even better.

Another analogy — and this is something that the princes of the CBCP may frown on — is the comparison between John the Baptist’s fire and brimstone exhortations and the homilies of the high priest and the Pharisees.

Just to be clear, I would have preferred an organized, comprehensive, scholarly, and diplomatic SONA, rather than a SODA. But Duterte’s high approval ratings make my attitude irrelevant.

Greg B. Macabenta is an advertising and communications man shuttling between San Francisco and Manila and providing unique insights on issues from both perspectives.

[email protected]