scholarship highlights the differences of the countries in the global south.

The postcolonial
histories of countries herein give rise to unique experiences that push them to consolidate their
states at the soonest time possible even as they are inextricably integrated in an international
system that is biased towards the great powers. This double pressure either makes or break a
state, and it is this tension that is the focus of the special issue. How does a country in the
global south deal with external and internal forces? What kinds of negotiations take place that
allow a state to balance international and domestic pressures? More importantly, what
strategies are used that reflect a state’s own paradigms, worldviews, and realities?

To argue in favor of differences, however, is not unproblematic. For one, how different is
“different”? While on one hand it may be accurate to say that the global south is easily
distinguishable from the more affluent countries in the north, it is not too far a stretch to also
posit that so-called non-Western approaches have similarities with or overlap with “Western”
International Relations concepts. If no approach can thus be considered as purely “Western,”
consequently then, no approach can likewise be seen as purely “non-Western.” In addition,
differences imply binary logics and stress the arbitrary lines between north and south, West and
non-West. Doing so therefore reproduces modes of inclusion and exclusion.

As an exemplar to these nuances, the special issue offered perspectives from the Philippines.
The country’s colonial past and struggles towards independence make it a prime example for
how a member of the global south participates in contemporary international affairs despite
certain constraints. The objectives of the special issue are to interrogate the theoretical and
empirical ways of studying the global south, to bring together the works of young scholars and
tease out the nuances of the Philippines’ role in the international and domestic levels of
analysis, and to contribute to the conversation about the role of the global south in international
relations.

This concluding article offers a bird’s-eye view of the nuances of the differences of the global
south and the problems associated with it. I argue that while the differences may indeed be
unique, not seeing beyond those is problematic. In line with this, I first acknowledge the
differences the global south represents. I look at how the IR concepts of state, rational choice,
and the international system are seen as inapplicable to the workings of the global south, and
how this “misfit” is detected not only in the dynamics of Philippine foreign policy, but also in its
relationships with various regional powers like the United States and China. I then turn to the
problems associated with seeing only the differences of the global south. I highlight the
concepts of mimicry and hybridity before examining the cases of the Philippines’ development
strategies, labor conditions, human security for migrant workers, and disability-related issues. In
all these, caution, mindfulness, and the need for dialogue are therefore called for.

Differently different
Pinar Bilgin points out how members of the global south are “differently different” (Bilgin 2012).
Countries herein share the idea that certain concepts in traditional IR do not seem to “fit” with
their historical and future trajectories (Neuman 1998). At the same time, members of the global
south are “differently different” because their experiences, not least with the various regional
powers and with each other, vary. The context and rationale of Philippine foreign policy certainly
differs from, say, the foreign policy of Singapore. Moreover, the Philippines’ relations with the
United States, China, and Japan may indeed showcase asymmetry, but the levels or variance of
asymmetry are still not quite the same. Being “differently different” thus echoes Homi Bhabha’s
“almost the same but not quite” adage (Bhabha 1994).
Three International Relations concepts qualify as a “misfit.” The first has to do with the state.
IR’s Westphalian foundations celebrate the state as the basic unit of analysis and that,
metaphorically, it is as monolithic as a billiard ball. With statehood comes sovereignty, that
inviolable pillar of the modern international system. A state in the global south, however, may
meet the basic tenets of statehood (territory, people, government, sovereignty), but its
sovereignty is challenged by instances of intervention from the outside. This is because the
statehood of a country in the global south still falls short of being fully consolidated. Mohammed
Ayoob defines a prototypical “Third World” state as displaying the following characteristics: lack
of internal cohesion, lack of definitive and legitimate state boundaries, vulnerability to internal
and inter-state conflicts, uneven development, marginalization in international forums, and
intervention by wealthier states, international organizations, or transnational and multinational
corporations (Ayoob 1995). Whereas states in the global north are more outward looking in
terms of the sources of security threats, for instance, those in the global south have a more
inward orientation: insecurity for most of these states originate from within their borders instead
of from without.

A second International Relations concept that does not seem to “fit” has to do with the value
placed on rational choice. In a world of insecurity, it is only rational for states, whether they are
strong or weak, to form alliances in order to minimize uncertainty. As with the concept of
statehood, this too is not without problems. In the first place, what is considered rational may
vary from culture to culture (Neuman 1998). For many in the global south, rationality may lie in
embracing nationalism for purposes of consolidating their identity and hence, their statehood.
Also, while alliances do work, arrangements like these between and among members of the
global south are few and far between (Neuman 1998). The Philippines is a case in point: in the
context of rising tensions in the South China Sea, it beefs up its alliance with the United States
more so than its partnerships with the other claimants.

Third, the international system may undeniably be anarchic and the occurrence of interstate
wars may but be typical. The case of the global south, however, depicts the more regular, even
more expected, occurrence of intrastate wars. In this sense, it is not anarchy that constrains the
external behavior of most states in the global south, but hierarchy (Escude 1998). The
international system thus represents a paradox for countries in the global south, for while they
may be predisposed towards the maintenance of the international order, their security and
economic dependence on the north readily guarantees the perpetuation of a structure that “at
the same time and at a different level they consider inequitable (Ayoob 1995).

The “misfit” of these concepts with the realities in the global south therefore underscores the
power of the dominant paradigm in International Relations. The logic of power politics is
representative only of a handful of (great) powers, and its pervasiveness results in the
parochialism and provincialism of International Relations. This Americo-centric and Eurocentric
treatment of global affairs is detrimental not only to International Relations (the field of study),
but also to international relations (the area of study) (Barkawi and Laffey 2006; Hobson 2012). It
is precisely this that leads scholars to advocate worldviews that originate in the “non-Western”
world. For instance, in acknowledging the colonial past, the struggles of the global south may be
understood as a struggle for political, economic, and cultural emancipation (Puchala 1998).
Meanwhile, focusing on culture, hybridity, and everyday life may account for alternative streams
of knowledge (Tickner 2003). “Non-Western” traditions likewise have significant contributions in
better explaining and understanding international relations (Acharya and Buzan 2009). To be
fair, it must be acknowledged that some “Western” IR thinking carry perspectives of the “non-
Western” world, such as dependency theory, world systems theory, postcolonialism, critical
theories, postmodernism, poststructuralism, and constructivism.

Although members of the global south have similar experiences in regard to how different they
are from the more developed countries in the north, they are nonetheless “differently different.”
The articles in this issue showcase the variance of the Philippines’ asymmetric relations with
extra-regional powers. The Philippine experience is noteworthy, not least because of its role in
the ongoing disputes in the South China Sea. How then does the Philippines negotiate with the
great powers in the region? What role does the US–Philippine alliance play in the face of
China’s assertive moves? How do the disputes affect China-Philippine relations? Certainly, the
Philippines’ ability to manage its relations with the great powers is a testament to the challenges
that a country in the global south faces.

As a jump-off point, this special issue focused first on the Philippines’ relations with the bigger
powers. US–Philippine relations demonstrate continued engagement as seen in the
International Peace and Security Plan for the Philippines’ credible external defense capability,
the security sector reform, and further cooperation with other partners, including Australia,
Japan, and South Korea. The article on China–Philippine relations, meanwhile, offered an
analysis of the South China Sea dispute via asymmetric dilemmas involving variances in military
forces, economic capacity, territorial size, and population. The rising tensions in the South
China Sea can then be explained due to the failed management of asymmetric relationships.
Coloring this is the factor of the US rebalance in Asia, which shifts the asymmetric bilateral
dilemma of China–Philippine relations to a triangular entanglement between the US, China, and
the Philippines.

In sum, the Philippines displays how a country in the global south maneuvers its way in the
international system. Indeed, there are significant differences in the way it interacts with various
actors. In the same way, some of the realities that the Philippines faces are contrary to or are
not totally aligned with the more stringent concepts of International Relations. The concept of
the state and the deployment of rational choice in the context of the international system all
blend in and become more fluid when seen from the perspective of the Philippines. Sovereignty,
which is an anchor of statehood, might not have been overstepped, but what became rational
for a small state like the Philippines was not so much to exercise force to defend its sovereign
integrity, but to learn how to hedge in an international system where great powers dominate.
Seen in this light, a global south perspective is indeed different. However, focusing solely on
what makes the Philippines different runs the risk of replicating the very modes of exclusion it
tries to veer away from.

The problem of difference

Seeing differences matters. The global south and the global north oftentimes do exhibit stark
contrasts. In the same way, International Relations concepts translate into something else when
applied to the “non-Western” world (Inayatullah and Blaney 2004; Tickner and Waever 2009).
Within the global south, however, there is—surprisingly—not enough difference (Tickner and
Blaney 2012). There is, at best, limited difference. Several factors explain this, such as that
there are some disciplinary parameters that simply work against diversity, and that International
Relations, whether “western” or “non-Western,” remains state-centric (Tickner and
Blaney 2012). But the crux of the problem of difference hinges on the concepts of mimicry and
hybridity.
The global south is said to mimic its counterparts in the north. By emphasizing difference, the
implicit message is the need to bridge that gap via imitation: if only the global south were more
like the north, then life would be better. Ayoob subscribes to the same logic: if only the “Third
World” would consolidate its statehood like the “First World,” then it could participate better and
more fully in the international system, and it would no longer be in a security predicament
(1995). The colonial discourse of mimicry therefore “emerges as the representation of a
difference that is itself a process of disavowal” (Bhabha 1994, 86).

A second problem associated with highlighting difference is the notion of hybridity, which is the
representation of an incomplete or contested global project: “Hybrid space is always contested
—a push and pull between uniformity and difference. In this respect, hybridity might be
celebrated in that it preserves diversity in the face of homogenizing practices (Tickner and
Blaney 2012, 7). Hybridity enables the blending of categories. “West” and “non-West” are no
longer distinct. Instead, they are suffused with ideas from both sides (Bilgin 2008).

Hybridity is reflected in three areas that the Philippines is facing: labor conditions, human
security for migrant workers, and disability issues. Some of the questions that the articles posed
were as follows. Given that one of the Philippines’ most significant contributions to the global
economy is its overseas labor, what are the conditions and migration patterns of overseas
Filipino workers? In a similar vein, how does the Philippine state guarantee human security for
Filipino migrants? An inclusive development strategy must likewise take into account persons
with disabilities. In 2008, the Philippines ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons
with Disabilities. What have been accomplished so far, and what more needs to be done?

The article on labor conditions examined the plight of Filipino nurses in crisis zones like Libya.
The authors find that while the migrants exercised risk calculation and reduction, they
nonetheless tended to commit risk denial and embrace a false sense of empowerment and
exceptionality. This provides a better justification for the Philippine government to take steps in
implementing policies regarding the security of its migrant workers. The article on human
security advocated institutionalizing human security policies and assumptions, but doing so
carried risks. Ultimately, the solution would lay in the building of a national consensus on
migration where stakeholders could participate in the debate. Finally, the article on disability
issues evaluated whether the Philippines’ electoral processes are disability inclusive. Using the
disability convention policy framework, the author found that the Philippines needs to improve in
both the institutional and social levels. In closing, while the differences of the global south
matter, focusing only on what makes it distinct enables the practice of mimicry and
underestimates the power of hybridity. The Philippine experience in the areas of labor, human
security, and disability issues present the blending of arbitrary divisions.
Conclusion

The countries of the global south can be characterized as being caught between a rock and a
hard place. On one hand, they are distinct from their counterparts in the global north. On the
other hand, highlighting the difference undermines postcolonial realities. The Philippines
captures these pressures succinctly. This begs several questions, however. Would the same be
experienced by another member of the global south, for instance, countries like Ghana or
Yemen or Ecuador? In what forms would “difference” take across these countries? Would there
be significant differences among these similar countries? Asking these questions allows the
possibility of dialogue not just between the global south and the global north, but more
importantly, among the members of the global south themselves. International relations can
then be more inclusive and more representative of what we call the “international.”

The Global South Philippines Program has been implementing in the Philippines. Since then
Philippines has evolved into more than just a country implementer, developing campaigns,
initiatives, platforms and products that are grounded on Philippine issues while still reflecting the
regional thrusts of Focus on the Global South. Philippines undertakes policy research and
engages government agencies on national policy-making; it is involved in advocacy work and
generates alternative information and critical analyses in aid of national and global debates; it
builds networks and alliances and contributes to grassroots capability building. The main issues
it addresses are deglobalization and transformation of the global economy, trade, poverty and
social-economic justice and the commons, peace and democracy, climate justice.
In its country initiatives, the Philippines program also devotes efforts on national and sector-
based issues through its various thematic programs; two key Philippine projects are the
Development Roundtable Series (DRTS) and Deconstructing Discourse and Activist Retooling
Program (DDARP).At the core of its work, the Philippines program is motivated and defined by
its main purpose: to stand with the poor and the marginalized. In presenting issues, in doing
analysis, in making positions and defining alternatives to achieve systemic change, the
Philippines program strives to take their perspectives.

Focus on the Global South’s Post-SONA 2020 Assessment

2020 August 7
In the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic—a period marked by rising infections, an
overwhelmed healthcare system, and an impending economic recession—the state of the nation
demanded a show of fortitude and resolve from President Rodrigo Duterte and his government to
move the country forward, as well as a show of leadership to rally the people in overcoming the
enormous challenges before us. We saw and heard nothing of that in the President’s 5  State of
th

the Nation Address (SONA) on July 27.

What the President has shown was the opposite: incompetence and a serious and dangerous lack
of leadership. Standing before the Congress and the nation was an inutile leader—to use
Duterte’s own words—who is unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation we are facing
and incapable of laying down a clear and cohesive plan to address this unprecedented crisis.

Nothing was said of the exponential rise in COVID-19 cases, the dismal state of our healthcare
system, the massive loss of jobs and livelihoods, or the worsening poverty and hunger among
our most vulnerable communities. Instead, Duterte filled his SONA with desperate
attempts to rescue the government’s already crumbling legitimacy in the face of
growing public anger and discontent. He deployed blatant lies, repetitions of stale
populist rhetoric that have consistently contradicted his administration’s policies and
actions, and displays of “cariño brutal” leadership, including narratives of “othering” and
endorsements of violence.
A Waning Brand of Leadership: Blame Game, Othering, and Violence
Prior to the onslaught of the pandemic and the multiple crises it has facilitated, Duterte’s
leadership and legitimacy were derived partly from his charisma, which Focus analyst Walden
Bello has aptly described as cariño brutal—“denoting a volatile mix of will to power, a
commanding personality, and a gangster charm that fulfills his followers’ deep-seated yearning
for a father figure who will finally end the national chaos.” He has projected himself as someone
who is willing to “[break] the law,” as it “functions mainly to protect the powerful, the criminals,
and the corrupt.” Throughout his speech, Duterte tried to reassert this strongman image and
project power.
Duterte’s previous SONAs have consistently sought to lay the blame for the country’s ills on the
same predictable lineup of groups: drug users and peddlers, criminals, narco-politicians, corrupt
public officials, leftist groups, and government critics. Because these groups are easy for the
middle class to detest, using them as scapegoats for all forms of social deterioration have helped
his administration appeal to the broad middle class and obtain their support. The 2020 SONA
was no different. Again, the oligarchy and the perpetual drug problem are to blame.

At the beginning of his speech, Duterte lambasted a senator from an opposition party who has
spoken out on the need to address the issue of political dynasties. The president, exuding an anti-
oligarchy persona he has adopted since his presidential campaign in 2016, then segued into a
tirade against a few rich families and their corporations. He made scathing statements directed at
the oligarchs controlling water provision in Metro Manila, but his rant focused particularly on
private telecommunication companies. Supposedly in the name of public interest, he even
warned the latter of government takeover if they fail to shape up. In the wake of the government
shutdown of ABS-CBN, the country’s largest media network, these threats have a chilling effect
on corporations deemed to oppose the whims of this administration.
Duterte has been projecting his upfront criticism of oligarchs as the latest expression of his will
to power, commanding personality, and strong leadership. But his selective attacks against the
Lopezes and Ayalas are reminiscent of the anti-oligarchy rhetoric of the late dictator Ferdinand
Marcos, who attacked certain oligarchs only to prop up his own cronies. It is not difficult to see
the similarities in the current scenario under Duterte.

For instance, despite claiming to be against the oligarchy, Duterte did not criticize the Sys, the
Villars, the Gokongweis, and other superrich families who have further entrenched their control
over public goods and services, thereby amassing greater wealth and profit. At the same time, it
is important to note that throughout Duterte’s term, many families in his hometown in Davao
Region have been on the rise economically and politically. The most prominent among them is
Dennis Uy, one of Duterte’s top presidential campaign donors. Starting out as the son of
provincial traders, Uy has now expanded his oil, shipping, and logistics business and has also
suddenly ventured into convenience stores, a digital startup, a casino franchise, a bakery chain, a
Ferrari dealership, a water utility, real estate, and telecommunications. The most controversial of
these is his entry into telecommunications, given Duterte’s longstanding vendetta against the
duopoly running the Philippine telco industry, the lack of transparency in the bidding process for
the third telco company, and Uy’s lack of experience in the industry.
Apart from Uy, investigative reports have also shown how families and companies involved in
public infrastructure have also disproportionately benefited from the massive inflow of capital to
Davao Region to supposedly support the Duterte administration’s flagship infrastructure program
“Build Build Build.” Standing out among these companies is CLTG Builders, which is notably
owned by Desiderio Go, the father of Duterte’s longtime aide and now-senator Christopher
Lawrence “Bong” Go.
Viewed in conjunction with Duterte’s political agenda of consolidating his own cronies, the
selective attacks against certain oligarchs controlling telecommunications during his SONA belie
the fact that only individuals and groups that support Duterte may enter and reap profits from the
telco market. As such, rather than dismantling a centuries-old system that has only benefited the
few, Duterte has simply been ushering in new oligarchs to secure their political support.
Apart from the oligarchs, Duterte also attributed the moral decay in society to the enduring drug
problem in the Philippines. During his speech, he devoted significant time, as usual, to explain
how the proliferation of illegal drugs destroys families, robs children of proper nurturance and
care, and even forces mothers to seek employment in other countries where they are exposed to
abusive employers. However, Duterte deliberately left out how his bloody “War on Drugs” has
also led to the same outcome of destroying families and how the lack of decent, high-paying jobs
coupled with the government’s labor export policy have increased labor migration.

Consistent with his hatred for smalltime drug users and peddlers and his penchant for using
violence to address systemic problems, Duterte reiterated his call for the “swift passage of a law
reviving the death penalty,” particularly for drug-related crimes. Surprisingly, however, this
directive received very little applause from a crowd consisting of his loyal allies. He continued to
play up the narrative of capital punishment as a deterrent to crime and as a necessary measure to
save the youth from the scourge of illegal drugs. The fact that he included and stressed the
agenda to reimpose the death penalty during a health crisis that has already taken over 2,000
lives is again quite telling of this government’s misplaced priorities. It also proves once again
how violence and killings are indeed a defining characteristic of Dutertismo.
Contrary to the administration’s claims that capital punishment will bring about justice, peace,
and social order, the proposed death penalty will be a death sentence for the poor. There are
numerous studies that show the disproportionate impact of death penalty on people living in
poverty and its ineffectiveness in crime deterrence. What the government should address and
prioritize is the implementation of much needed reforms in our broken criminal justice system
that promotes impunity and favors the rich, the elites, and those in positions of power.

Militaristic, Populist, and Incompetent COVID-19 Response

Focus has been examining Duterte’s past SONAs and analyzing the consequences of his
regime’s exacerbation of policies and systems that promote violence, hardships, betrayals, and
perversions. In particular, Focus has been analyzing from a policy lens the extent to which his
rhetoric has been translated into actual policies and action. As in previous addresses, we have
noted the destructive, divisive, and despotic character of the Duterte administration and the
patent inconsistencies in Duterte’s policy pronouncements in his latest SONA. On the twin
concerns of health and the economy, what Duterte chose to highlight in his speech is indicative
of his glaring lack of understanding of the gravity of our problems and his consistent policy
biases. The statements are always couched in the same pro-masa or pro-people rhetoric.
On health, Duterte chose to highlight the Malasakit Centers—the pet project of his erstwhile
assistant and most trusted ally and confidant Senator Cristopher “Bong” Go—as if to present
these centers as one-stop shops for all government medical and financial assistance for all
Filipinos, particularly poor patients. While supposedly non-partisan, the Malasakit Centers,
whose name means “concern” in English, implicitly represent the system of patronage politics,
where the delivery of public services is branded as a gift deserving of public gratitude and
political support.

Furthermore, in keeping with the administration’s militaristic and blunt force approach to
containing the virus, Duterte threatened to order the killings of individuals who commit crimes
during the pandemic. He explicitly stated that if they were to go back to their old, unlawful ways,
he would see to it that their dead bodies would pile up.

Instead of heaping praises on the so-called “Bong Go Centers” and sputtering threats of violence,
the President could have given the nation a much clearer picture of the state of our public health
and the enormous challenge that lay before us. A World Health Organization-commissioned
study on the state of the country’s public health system concluded that while there have been
improvements in performance owing to health sector reforms implemented over the years, many
concerns still need to be tackled. These concerns have to do with “further strengthening and
improving the preparation and response capacity to natural and human induced disasters.” It
further noted that “access [to health services] remains highly inequitable due to the
maldistribution of facilities, health staff and specialists.”
The dire state of our public health amid the pandemic was underscored further in a new United
Nations Policy Brief on the impact of COVID-19 on Southeast Asian countries. The document
noted the vulnerability of most countries in the sub-region because of weak health systems.
However, it singled out Myanmar and the Philippines “as particularly concerning because of pre-
existing humanitarian caseload.” There are two indicators of level of preparedness for COVID-
19 where the Philippines is lagging behind its neighbors. The first one is the number of nurses
and midwives, where we have two per 10,000 people according to 2017-2018 data, the lowest
among the 11 Southeast Asian countries (Singapore is highest at 72 nurses per 10,000 people).
The second is the number of hospital beds where we registered 10 per 10,000, the third lowest
next to Cambodia with eight and Myanmar with nine per 10,000.
Duterte also revealed his detachment from the struggle of healthcare workers when he hit them
back for supposedly touting revolution, when they were in fact merely demanding a return to
Modified Enhanced Community Quarantine (MECQ) from the more relaxed General
Community Quarantine (GCQ) in order to give our overwhelmed health system some breathing
space.

The Duterte administration’s indifference to the needs of the healthcare sector, its hollow
rhetoric of malasakit or sympathy, and its heavy-handed approach to the pandemic have
obviously not done anything to curb the number of cases. As of today, the Philippines now has
the highest number of confirmed COVID-19 cases in Southeast Asia, overtaking Indonesia at
119,460 total cases, and the fourth-highest number of cases in Asia after India, Pakistan, and
Bangladesh. According to the Straits Times, the Philippines has now become Southeast Asia’s
coronavirus hotspot after recording spikes in the number of infections, as the country plunges
into recession, registering a 16.5% GDP drop in the second quarter of 2020—the deepest
contraction in the country’s history.
Enduring Neoliberal Prescription
There were high expectations that Duterte would present a clear plan for the tanking economy.
However, the list of recommendations and urgent policies cited by Duterte, which barely
constitute a concrete recovery plan, represent the same neoliberal agenda that has only created
fragile, unsustainable, and inequitable growth. Duterte pushed for the passage of the Corporate
Recovery and Tax Incentives for Enterprises Act (CREATE), which aims to cut the corporate
income tax rate from 30% to 25%. The recovery program as per Duterte’s SONA
pronouncements is hinged on corporate bailouts couched again in populist rhetoric. Duterte
sought to emphasize, and rightly so, the plight of micro, small, and medium enterprises
(MSMEs) that make up around 99.5% of all enterprises in the country. Considered the backbone
of our economy, MSMEs provide around 5.7 million jobs or 63.19% of the country’s total
employment, according to 2018 data from the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI). But there
are serious doubts as to whether the incentives and bailout packages would redound to the
benefit of these MSMEs or instead be cornered by big firms. While CREATE is envisioned to
serve both as a stimulus and as a means to spur economic growth, special concern should be
directed at the impact of the crisis on workers.

Official statistics show that 7.3 million Filipinos are now unemployed, with the unemployment
rate jumping to 17.7% in April 2020—a 12.6% increase from last year. Government’s response
to support the unemployed has come in the form of social amelioration and a one-time cash dole-
out to workers in the formal sector through its COVID-19 Adjustment Measures Program
(CAMP). These programs have been mired in problems, as Duterte himself has recognized.

For one, the social amelioration in the form of cash and in-kind support, ranging from PHP5,000
(~USD102) to PHP8,000 (~USD163) per household for each month of lockdown, does not have
any clear criteria for recipient selection nor a timeline for distribution. Without clear criteria, the
distribution of aid has been based on patronage instead of people’s needs. Furthermore, there
have been various reports of delayed distribution both for the first and second tranche of the
financial aid. Without any source of income during the first two months of strict lockdown, many
poor families had to live on PHP8,000 (~USD163) per month, or about PHP133 (~USD2.71) per
day. Even worse, some remote communities have reportedly not received any form of aid at all
since March 15.

Similarly, the support program designed specifically for displaced workers has also been riddled
with problems. On the one hand, the one-time cash aid worth PHP5,000 (~USD102) that was
distributed to workers in the formal sector was not enough to meet the month-long needs of their
families, even when combined with the financial aid from the Department of Social Welfare and
Development (DSWD). Another concern of the labor sector was how the processing of aid
depended on employers submitting a list of requirements to the government before their workers
could receive aid. Labor groups also lamented that the Department of Labor and Employment’s
(DOLE) support program for workers is exclusionary, as it only covers workers in the formal
sector. Meanwhile, displaced workers and underemployed and seasonal workers could only
receive provisional incomes under the department’s emergency employment program that would
last between 10 and 30 days.

According to Czar Joseph Castillo of the Labor Education and Research Network (LEARN)
Institute, the COVID-19 pandemic has magnified labor rights issues including non-compliance
with occupational safety and health standards, wage cuts, contractualization, and union busting.

While millions of poor Filipinos are suffering from worsening hunger due to lack of incomes and
the delayed distribution of government aid, some public officials have been fattening their
wallets with public funds. In fact, in the middle of an unprecedented health crisis that has
exhausted the resources of thousands of COVID-19 victims, it was reported that PHP15 billion
(~USD305 million) worth of funds of the Philippine Health Insurance Corporation (PhilHealth)
were pocketed by the members of the government corporation’s executive committee. Even prior
to this recent exposé, various investigative reports have revealed massive fraud and scams within
PhilHealth. It was estimated that the insurance company has lost around PHP154 billion
(~USD3.13 billion) to various types of fraud. All these cases have persisted despite Duterte’s
strong assertions that he would weed out corruption.

Rhetoric and Contradictions

There are a few other rhetorical statements in Duterte’s SONA that are contradicted by his
policies and actions. He said that his administration “[wants] to end the discrimination of persons
on the basis of age, disability, ethnicity, sexual orientation and gender identity and expression,
and other character traits.” This is ironic given Duterte’s sexist, misogynistic, and discriminatory
statements against women and the LGBTQIA+ community. In one event, he was noted as saying
that he “cured” himself of homosexuality “with the help of beautiful women.” Duterte has also
blurted out statements before and during his term as president that objectified and sexualized
women, encouraged violence against women, normalized and trivialized the otherwise serious
matter of rape, and openly admitted to committing rape and other forms of sexual harassment
himself.
He also boldly declared: “Rest assured that we will not dodge our obligation to fight for human
rights.” This comes after years of extrajudicial killings, human rights violations and abuses, the
erosion of democratic institutions, the encroachment of authoritarian rule, demonization of
human rights activists and defenders, and the propagation of the divisive false dichotomy
between the President’s “concern with human lives” and peoples’ defense of human rights and
dignity in resistance to the Duterte regime.

On the issue of environment, he mentioned that “responsible extraction and equitable distribution
of natural resources remain non-negotiables” and reiterated once again the need for the passage
of the National Land Use Act (NLUA). Yet over the last four years under his administration,
land policies have treated land and other natural resources as commodities and sources of profit
for private investors. This narrow view of economic efficiency is anchored on the profit-
maximizing exploitation of natural resources rather than its equitable distribution, protection, and
preservation to advance social and ecological justice.

This is evident, for instance, in the continuing proliferation of mining throughout the country,
rising cases of land grabbing and land use conversion in the countryside, the aggressive push for
the China-backed Kaliwa Dam—a centerpiece of the Belt and Road Initiative in the Philippines
—and many other forms of development aggression that threaten to destroy indigenous peoples’
ancestral domains and livelihoods, plus the reclamation of Manila Bay, which threatens to
displace thousands of coastal residents and fisherfolk communities to make way for private
businesses to plunder the Commons.

Duterte also stressed that a robust agriculture sector should drive economic growth. In line with
this, he cited the “Plant, Plant, Plant” Program, otherwise known as the Ahon Lahat, Pagkaing
Sapat (ALPAS) [literally meaning: All Rise, Adequate Food] program, as the government’s
COVID-19 response to help reinvigorate the agriculture sector. However, the ALPAS program’s
push for rice self-sufficiency and support for procurement of palay from local farmers
contradicts the administration’s strong support and implementation of rice importation.
With the enactment of the Rice Tariffication Law (RTL) or the Rice Trade Liberalization Law,
the Philippines became the largest importer of rice in the world in 2019 with record purchases
reaching 2.9 million metric tons (MT), and there were plans in late March to import more than
300,000 MT of rice by way of the government-to-government scheme to ward off possible
depletion of our rice buffer stock. In the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, rice-producing
countries have reviewed their rice exports. Vietnam, for example, temporarily suspended rice
export contracts as it assesses its own stockpiles. The plans were later shelved when Vietnam
lifted their ban on rice exports. Nevertheless, this exposes the Philippines to the dangers of heavy
reliance on importation as a means to secure food. The International Rice Research Institute
(IRRI) estimates that the export bans could raise world rice prices anywhere from 19%
(Vietnam), 23% (Cambodia), to as much as 51% (India), or $230 per MT. According to IRRI,
“in the worst case scenario, rice price could spike well above the maximum level reached during
the 2008 crisis.”

The deplorable neglect of the Filipino small-scale food providers and Philippine agriculture by
the Duterte administration—exacerbated by the impact of COVID-19 on food and the economy,
as well as the government technocrats’ yielding to the dictates of neoliberal free-trade
proponents—is a clear manifestation of the disconnect between the government and the people.

A Turning Point
The incompetence and poor leadership of the Duterte administration, as attested to by the recent
SONA, along with the people’s indignation and demands for accountability, open opportunities
for a progressive turning point, away from the Dutertismo style of governance and toward
genuine political, economic, social, and cultural change. Now more than ever, there is a stronger
need for us to organize communities, strengthen grassroots solidarities from the ground up, and
collectively build alternatives for recovery, renewal, and systemic transformation.

The annual SONA has always been a political event ripe with contrasts. It is an occasion for the
President to present the achievements of the administration and frame the policies and the
political narrative moving forward. On the other hand, out on the streets, the united actions under
the banner of SONAgKAISA (“nagkaisa” means united in Filipino) and the various sectoral and
thematic actions articulate a counter-narrative focusing on the perspectives of the marginalized
and the unheard and offer a different agenda of social transformation that challenges the status
quo, questions government policies and priorities, and condemns the actions or inactions of the
State.
There is also a sharp contrast in the optics of power and privilege: the politicians, the generals,
the diplomats, and those in the corridors of power in their elegant barongs and filipinianas,
comfortably seated inside the air-conditioned halls of Congress—though this time with COVID-
19 we saw a much-reduced audience and a less-packed Congress. Meanwhile, the masses march
outside under the scorching heat of the sun or sometimes the heavy downpour of rain, the people
out in the streets shouting their demands and slogans, demanding to be heard. There is a typical
ending to a SONA day: the President, after delivering his or her speech to the aplomb and
applause of the crowd, leaves the halls rejuvenated with his or her political muscles flexed and
mandate reaffirmed; meanwhile, the protestors finish their own programs, pack their flags,
streamers, and placards, and disperse amidst the embers of the burned effigy.

SONA 2020 will be remembered as the day when Duterte’s failed leadership, in the face of an
unprecedented health and economic crisis, was fully exposed to the public. The challenge now
lies in seizing this opportunity to rise from the ashes of this moribund presidency, build stronger
unities to advance the progressive agenda and find the strength to continue the long struggle
ahead.