Activism, Not Terrorism: Criminalizing Free Speech in the Philippines
Students in the Philippines protest the Duterte administration in February 2019, over earlier disputes prior to the Anti-Terrorism Bill. Photo by Kjerrimyr Andrés.
In July 2020, my social media feed was flooded with posts urging Americans to advocate for people in the Philippines, who were now terrified of increased police brutality. The fear was prompted by Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte’s signing the Anti-Terrorism Bill into law, which effectively allows for the government to arrest critics of the law without a warrant since these critics are deemed as “terrorists.” I recall swiping through Instagram slideshows and stories that instructed Americans to call their representatives and senators to publicly condemn the bill and encourage international pressure on the Philippine government. The hashtag #JunkTerrorBill arose on Instagram and Twitter, with resources to join an email protest, learn more about recent prosecutions, and sign American and Filipino petitions.
Despite the overwhelming opposition against the bill, Duterte justified its legality by stating the law actually protects Filipinos as the bill arose from the 2017 Marawi siege, a five-month long battle with Islamist terrorists. In reality, Duterte has a long history of executing Filipinos, as evidenced by his run on the promise to annihilate drug dealers and the following Philippine drug war. Since he assumed his role as President in 2016, between 8,000 to 24,000 people have been murdered in the drug war alone. Human Rights Watch (H.R.W.) identified his aggressive campaign, which has included extrajudicial killings and served as a cornerstone for his presidential win, as the most concerning human rights issue of 2019. The 2020 Anti-Terrorism Bill reflects the growth of authoritarianism under Duterte—and will allow it to worsen.
This Anti-Terrorism Bill greatly expands the definition of a “terrorist,” and this possibility for broad application of the law poses a major threat to Filipinos. The act’s definition of terrorism includes those who “create an atmosphere to spread a message of fear, provoke or influence by intimidation the government or any international organization, [or] seriously destabilize or destroy the fundamental political, economic, or social structures in the country.” Because the courts follow the administration’s wishes, there can and will be a wide interpretation and application of the law on Filipinos.
Under the bill’s definition, a terrorist can be a student who meets up with his friends (as they may be secretly plotting against the government), a middle-schooler who participates in a peaceful protest against police brutality, or even a college student who retweets a meme condemning Duterte. A terrorist can also be an average drunk who is roped into a bar fight, a girl who carries around a knife for protection as she walks through an unknown neighborhood, or a mother who donates to a relief drive that is not state-recognized.
If convicted under the law, these people are all in danger of being sentenced to twelve years in jail or even life imprisonment. The law also allows the government and police to jail terrorism suspects for 24 days without a case, and judges are no longer required to determine if the suspects have been mentally or physically tortured.
The bill expands the criminal offense of committing terrorism by “means of speeches, proclamations, writings, emblems, banner or other representations tending to the same end,” limiting the right of free speech for all Filipinos. The bill also criminalizes many forms of personal expressions, stripping Filipinos of their right to individuality and their ability to think and express themselves freely. The government especially focuses on monitoring journalists, specifically those who are known to criticize Duterte.
Already many Filipino journalists have been prosecuted for using the press to expose the government. One of the Philippines’ most prominent journalists, Maria Ressa, was found guilty of “cyber libel,” a charge that could land her in prison for up to six years—despite the fact that the charge was for an article that she allegedly did not write. Ressa has spent years exposing corruption, and her role as a prominent critic of President Duterte is widely suspected to be the reason she was found guilty.
Ressa also spoke to the press after her verdict was announced, explaining that journalists, like herself, are attacked “because we continue to speak truth to power, to hold power to account.” She also encouraged the public to remember that everyone deserves democracy and should fight to preserve it.
International disapproval of Ressa’s conviction begs the question: Do dictators gain power through censorship or lose power from international criticism? For the Philippines, it seems that international pressure has caused some reevaluation. As of October 3, 2020, 37 petitions against the bill are pending before the Supreme Court of the Philippines, marking the Anti-Terrorism Bill as the most highly contested law in Filipino history. However, the verdict of the bill remains unclear.
As international criticism continued, Duterte’s office released statements defending the Anti-Terrorism Bill. On July 16, 2020, the Philippine embassy in Washington wrote a letter to 50 U.S representatives stating, “The Philippines remains committed to the protection of civil and political liberties as well as human rights.”
Yet, despite these claims to protect “human rights,” representatives from the Human Rights Watch vehemently oppose the Anti-Terrorism bill and believe that its definitions of “terrorism” are too broad. On June 5, 2020, Human Rights Watch criticized the bill as it “eliminates critical legal protections and permits government overreach.” The H.R.W. Deputy Asia Director called the bill a “human rights disaster.”
Where is the line between invasion of privacy for security and tyrannical control? After all, the Anti-Terrorism Bill allows the government to use surveillance and wiretaps. Despite the Philippines’ attempts to replicate the United States’s democratic and judicial systems, Duterte’s push for life imprisonment without parole contradicts America’s supposed philosophy of “innocent until proven guilty.” The bill, then, bears much more of a resemblance to the PATRIOT Act and the US’s surveillance after 9/11.
It is important to evaluate leaders’ words and compare the justifications of such authoritarian states to their actions. After all, Duterte has already faced heavy condemnation because of his war on drugs. According to a United Nations report, his administration’s harsh policies against drug users can be labeled as granting police the “permission to kill,” allowing for the tens of thousands of deaths from the drug war itself. The Duterte administration has consistently resisted criticism, and only one conviction of a police officer has been reported. These extrajudicial killings and the pardoning of police officers who were convicted for “drug war” killings illustrate the Philippine government’s familiarity with a reign of terror.
Despite his violations of human rights, Duterte remains popular in the Philippines. According to an opinion poll from January 2020, Duterte received a net satisfaction rating of 72%. Perhaps his popularity comes from his rhetoric, specifically his arguments that his actions defend Filipinos. For Aaron Sobel, a representative of the Carnegie Endowment, Duterte’s “firebrand type of speech helped him get elected and for a very long time he’s been very popular, and he’s used that to erode civilian checks and balances.” With the crackdown on drugs, he may have also garnered support from elites in the Philippines, as most of these drug victims were poor, young, urban males.
Popular opinion, however, can be unreliable in recognizing their government’s flaws. For United Nations spokesperson Ravina Shamdasani, popular opinion should not justify the righteousness of a government’s actions. Instead, she said, “the government has a duty under its constitution and under human rights law to protect people from human rights violations.” The problem, then, is combatting leaders who believe they are protecting the rights of their people—or are good enough at fiery rhetoric to make this argument convincingly.
With the spread of COVID-19, Duterte has assumed even more power and the ability to prosecute more individuals. Between March and July, the Philippine government has incarcerated over 76,000 people who violated the lockdown. At the end of July, the police were ordered to arrest anyone who was not wearing a mask outside. It seems, then, that the Philippine government is unable to tackle domestic problems without force or violence. Duterte called spreading the coronavirus a “serious crime” and that the government would not have “any qualms” with using force or arresting people. Much like the use of the Anti-Terrorism Bill, the arrests of civilians during this pandemic demonstrates the government’s overreach of power.
It is imperative that people, especially those abroad, continue raising awareness and calling their representatives to junk the terror bill. Those in America should leverage our platform by also signing petitions and advocating to enact the Philippine Human Rights Act, which suspends America’s security assistance to the Filipino police and military. Only after the rights of trade unionists, the indigenous population, journalists, and other innocent Filipinos are protected will America’s suspension of aid be lifted.
Duterte reminds us how easy it can be for governments to infringe upon our rights and assume more power under the guise of acting in the interest of the people and their safety. We have witnessed the destruction of democracy around the world repeatedly. From the Patriot Act to the Anti-Terrorism Bill, civil liberties are routinely threatened by power-hungry individuals with no regard for the public’s actual interests. With leaders and governments abusing their power time and again, the only way to defend ourselves is to fight against censorship and oppression by remaining aware, vigilant, and outspoken.
The author of this piece wishes to remain anonymous as their criticisms of the Philippine government could potentially affect their ability to re-enter the Philippines and may endanger their family.