Dutertismo: The velocity of evil?

Stratford-upon-Avon—A genius on the cusp of modernity, Shakespeare understood the essence of politics like few other minds. Visiting his home, I was struck by both its humble simplicity as well as the rich texture of his life. Little did I know that his father was a self-made success story, rising from a glove-maker to become the de facto mayor of one of the Tudor era’s most fashionable market towns. While courtiers flocked to Shakespeare’s hometown centuries ago to purchase swanky accessories, Stratford-upon-Avon nowadays is filled with luxury watch shops and wealthy tourists relishing the mélange of modern opulence and medieval architecture. It was through his parents, who regularly hosted notables in their well-supplied dining room, that Shakespeare was introduced to the world of politics and power. Thus, exceptional talent thrived on an exquisitely vibrant social life—though nowhere as aristocratic as the social backgrounds of prominent French (e.g., Lafayette) and Russian (e.g., Count Tolstoy) novelists in succeeding centuries.

I was also surprised by how seemingly barren his residences were: not in terms of markers of opulence, which were quite ubiquitous, but instead in the absence of concrete reminders of the geniuses who once roamed those rooms. Though clearly the beating heart of the city, neither Shakespeare’s nor Anne Hathaway’s parental homes were filled with traces of their works. Only Shakespeare’s New Place (his final family home in the town) featured his most famous quotes from his plays, which were etched into the ground and onto metal sculptures along the walkways. Though his works deployed the whole range of human emotions, and operated within the vast coordinates of the existentialist imaginary, it was his reflections on power that always attracted me, hence the contemporaneous relevance of “Coriolanus,” “Julius Caesar,” “Henriad,” “Hamlet,” “Macbeth,” and, of course, “King Lear.”

“Cry ‘Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war.” That’s the line that comes to mind when one thinks of the string of most embarrassing scandals wrought by the ever-diminishing yet still eminently destructive Duterte-leaning cabal in the Senate. As if allegedly staging a shooting incident to aid the escape of an International Criminal Court-wanted fugitive wasn’t enough, we were more recently greeted by the surreal images of the country’s interior minister single-handedly seeking to hold back a mob led by Sen. Robinhood Padilla. Tragicomedy at its worst! Then, just when we thought we had reached rock bottom, the “DU10” faction tried to choreograph a fantastically self-serving “hearing,” featuring some of the most shady potential “witnesses,” who predictably implicated anti-Duterte figures on the flimsiest grounds.

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“Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.” That’s the line that comes to mind when one thinks of the steady degradation of the country’s highest chamber into a circus of moral decay, intellectual vacuity, and sheer shamelessness. Who is even in charge of the Senate, anymore?

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“The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.” This is the line that comes to mind when one thinks of any member of the notorious Duterte dynasty, who has shown anything but remorse when confronted with incontrovertible evidence of abuse and incompetence.

“I had rather be their servant in my way than sway with them in theirs.” This is the line that comes to mind when one hears former President Rodrigo Duterte and his factotum when confronted with facts, justice, and the foundational principles of constitutional democracy.

“Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown.” This is the line that comes to mind when one thinks of the current President, who is struggling to effectuate decisive change in his twilight years. Or think of how a recently deposed Senate leader is grappling with the disintegration of his power base despite possessing the “vaulting ambition” that compelled him to connive with some of the worst politicians and practices in Philippine history. “All the world’s a stage…” That’s how one imagines the performative theatrics of the pro-Duterte figures, who are seemingly willing to burn down our republic to save their necks.

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“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves.” And that is the line that comes to mind when one thinks of how we, as a nation, collectively failed one of the most promising post-colonial nations in modern history. Unless we embrace radical change, including within our very political consciousness, the scourge of Dutertismo will haunt the last vestiges of democracy past the point of redemption.

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