The thug appeal of Rodrigo Duterte
>> Friday, May 19, 2017
BEHIND
THE SCENES
Alfred
P. Dizon
(We would like to
share an article sent to us about the enigma that is President Duterte)
On
Saturday, Donald Trump extended a White House invitation to Rodrigo Duterte,
president of the Philippines. The invitation surprised many: Duterte has compared himself
to Hitler, and even Trump’s closest aides didn’t know that Hitler might be
coming to dinner. Almost all of Duterte’s press in the U.S. has been negative.
He has
bragged of summarily executing criminals, in at least three
cases by his own hand. He pledged to
murder tens of thousands of them, especially drug dealers. He said he intended
to pivot toward China, ending a very long history of an Asian special
relationship between the Philippines and the United States.
For extra
measure, to kill off any sentimentality between the two countries, he called Barack
Obama a “son of a whore.” (Duterte congratulated Trump on his election but
suggested he might be too busy to
accept the invitation to visit Washington.)
What, then,
is there to love about Duterte—for Filipinos, or Trump, or both? Last year, I
was in the southern Philippines, on the Philippine president’s home island of
Mindanao. I asked around to see if anyone could tell me an endearing story—a
baby kissed with apparent sincerity; an effortlessly folksy answer to the
concerns of an ordinary person—anything that might explain his wild popularity.
He won the
2016 Philippine presidential election handily, and before that he spent 22
years as mayor of Davao City, the island’s largest, and would likely have been
elected mayor-for-life if the job existed.
This is the
story I was told. During Duterte’s mayorship, Davao City enacted a smoking ban
in indoor public places. (Duterte has now proposed a
similar measure nationally.)
Over a
quarter of Filipinos smoke, so the ban was expected to be difficult to
enforce—and before long, a café owner called city hall to report a tourist who
kept smoking after being warned that it was against the law.
Duterte
showed up to deal with the situation. He told the tourist that it was,
regrettably, too late simply to extinguish the cigarette. Duterte then pulled
out a .38 snub-nosed revolver and pointed it at the smoker’s scrotum,
announcing that the smoker could either swallow the cigarette butt or have his
balls shot off. He ate the cigarette butt.
A version
of this story, now famous, was related on Facebook by Manny Piñol, a Duterte
supporter, in September 2015.
Another
version, on the Filipino news site Rappler, adds
comment from Duterte’s office—admitting that Duterte forced a tourist to eat a
cigarette “a long time ago,” but claiming he used unspecified means that did
not involve pointing a revolver at him. As with all folklore, it matters little
whether it is true.
What
matters is that Duterte’s fans love him because he is a thug, not in spite of
his thuggery. Gangsters and rebels ran Mindanao for years, and now a gangster
was restoring order by going after every miscreant, no matter how minor the
offense.
I do not
approve of shooting people in the scrotum, but even I must admit this story is
kind of rad. No one was hurt, and a scofflaw was left shaken and certain not to
re-offend.
And I
suspect that anyone who doesn’t at least smile, even in horror, upon hearing it
will have a hard time understanding Duterte and the enchantment he apparently
exerts on Trump.
Many have pointed out that
Trump has a hotel under construction in Manila, and that his blossoming
friendship with Duterte follows the Turkish, Russian, Indian, and Argentine examples
of otherwise-inexplicable friendship following Trump’s own business interests.
But a
simpler answer is that Duterte is the politician Trump dreams of being. None of
the obstacles to Trump’s plans—constitutional, moral, electoral—encumber
Duterte.
Indeed
their transgression makes him more powerful and beloved. Recall Trump’s famous
boast that he could walk up to someone on Fifth Avenue and shoot him, and the
Trump fans would still love him.
Duterte is
Trump without the pesky superego, without the small voice of conscience to
inhibit him from saying or doing the outrageous.
Trump
speculates about shooting someone in the street. Duterte brags about having
actually done so. Trump tells Billy Bush that he likes to sexually assault
women. Referring to a 1989 incident in which an Australian missionary was gang
raped and murdered, Duterte said last
year she was beautiful and regretted that he didn’t get first crack at her.
Duterte’s
fans in Mindanao seem to think that in fair trade for this murderous vulgarity
they’ve gotten public order and a check on corruption, since (as Kipling said
of colonial police in Kim) their guy may be corrupt, but at least he
suffers no rivals.
The terms
of the Trump exchange, for a more timorous vulgarity, are less clear, but it
seems likely that the deal here is just as rotten.
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