COVID-19 lockdown diary: Semantics and a day of reckoning
Note: Due to the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) pandemic threat, the Philippines’ capital region as well as other regions and provinces are on what is officially called an “extended enhanced community quarantine”.
Because it was the term used by the government and as I was on self-isolation due to my travel history, my previous journal writings were headlined “COVID-19 quarantine diary”.
To my mind, the use of the word “quarantine”, instead of “lockdown”, is an attempt to tone down the impact of the virus in the country. At least in my future journal entries, I will be referring to the policy as what it truly is: a lockdown.
* * *
Of the many takeaways I got from Lois Lowry’s The Giver, one I cannot forget even years after I read the book is the concept of “precision of language”, or the use of proper words to convey a person’s exact thought. In the book, precision of language ensures that “unintentional lies were never uttered”. However, the words The Giver’s storyworld would use are ironically unclear, lacking, and deceptive. (Here’s an excerpt that I think encapsulates what I mean.)
Critics of President Rodrigo Duterte has always described his administration’s pronouncements and policies as a case of “mental gymnastics”, much like George Orwell’s 1984 “doublespeak” — meaning one thing but saying another.
To me, it’s always been clear that Duterte’s political game is one that weaponizes semantics.
During the 2016 presidential campaign, majority of the masses found a connection with Duterte, often attributed to his rhetoric that is mired with violent remarks and rape jokes. He spoke the way an ordinary man would, his supporters would say. Duterte doesn’t bat an eyelash when sprinkling his speeches with expletives and statements that would’ve been largely considered un-diplomatic or un-presidential. To many, he walked the talk: “Change is coming” was his slogan, and he was a break from the traditional politician mold.
This worked to his advantage, with 16 million Filipinos, or 39 percent of registered voters, electing him as President.
Duterte’s electoral campaign was grounded on his stance against criminality and, in particular, the illegal drug trade. When he eventually became President, his key policy — a crackdown on illegal drugs called “Project: Double Barrel”, or “tokhang” in common parlance — is branded as a war.
Within the first few months of the brutal program, tens of thousands of suspected drug personalities were killed, whether by police officers (uniformed or plainclothed) or unidentified assailants, all without due process.
Many dismissed the extrajudicial killings as “collateral damage” — because that’s what happens in a war, right? People die during battle against an enemy.
Further reading:
What was barely included in the narrative is how drug use and abuse is not merely an issue of peace and order, but also one that centers on health and social economics. My opinion: The campaign against illegal drugs would’ve better served the Filipino public had the deadly crackdown (a different issue, altogether) been followed up with projects concerning mental health, and poverty and hunger.
Further reading:
By now, through academic studies, journalistic accounts, and personal observation, the general public acknowledges that Duterte’s presidency is backed up by large-scale troll farm operations to push propaganda, shape public opinion, and attack dissenters.
A study by the University of Oxford in 2017 found that Duterte spent 200,000 USD, or about 10 million in Philippine peso, for this new political strategy. The Asia Global Institute at the University of Hong Kong used the term “patient zero” to describe the deluge of disinformation and misinformation that plagued the 2016 presidential elections in the country, one that serves as a precedent now to similar cyber campaigns in other countries.
Further reading:
Among Filipinos, these trolls are known as DDS — Duterte Diehard Supporters, or “Dutertards”, the latter a term that also connotes a mental disability. But prior to this game of keyboard warriorship, DDS referred to a different group that is nearly as synonymous to Duterte’s legacy in his long years of service as mayor of Davao city: the Davao death squad.
Further reading:
Before becoming President, Duterte was Davao mayor for a total of seven terms (or 21 years) — stepping down every three consecutive terms as is mandated by the Constitution, serving in a different local post while his family acts as a seat-warmer until he is able to return to the mayoralty.
Even as a local official, Duterte’s brand of leadership has always been one associated with unlawful killings. The Davao death squad in 2009 became the focus of an investigation and a series of public hearings under the Commission on Human Rights (CHR), then chaired by now-senator Leila de Lima.
A vocal and staunch Duterte critic, De Lima is presently detained at the New Bilibid Prison in Muntinlupa, the main penitentiary in the country, for charges she claims to be political persecution.
The current COVID-19 health crisis draws similarities to Duterte’s anti-illegal drugs campaign in the sense that the President empowers the police force to “shoot to kill” violators.
This is yet another pressing issue affecting millions of Filipinos, yet the President resorts to state-backed violence as a solution.
On Wednesday, videos shared on social media broke the news of a helpless man being shot twice in the chest by a police officer. The victim was Winston Ragos, a former military man who came out of the service with a different, lifelong battle: schizophrenia and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Further reading:
The following is a graphic video, one of a few that may serve as evidence if (read: if, not when) this case is brought to the courts.
In the video, bystanders, possibly neighbors of Ragos, can be heard exclaiming: “Bakit n’yo binaril? Dapat kinapakan n’yo muna!” (Why did you have to gun him down? You should’ve stopped and frisked him first!)
This morning, in his pre-recorded but late presser, Duterte did not even acknowledge the death of the army veteran who served the nation, at the hands of a uniformed man who has sworn to protect citizens.
Because it was the term used by the government and as I was on self-isolation due to my travel history, my previous journal writings were headlined “COVID-19 quarantine diary”.
To my mind, the use of the word “quarantine”, instead of “lockdown”, is an attempt to tone down the impact of the virus in the country. At least in my future journal entries, I will be referring to the policy as what it truly is: a lockdown.
Of the many takeaways I got from Lois Lowry’s The Giver, one I cannot forget even years after I read the book is the concept of “precision of language”, or the use of proper words to convey a person’s exact thought. In the book, precision of language ensures that “unintentional lies were never uttered”. However, the words The Giver’s storyworld would use are ironically unclear, lacking, and deceptive. (Here’s an excerpt that I think encapsulates what I mean.)
Critics of President Rodrigo Duterte has always described his administration’s pronouncements and policies as a case of “mental gymnastics”, much like George Orwell’s 1984 “doublespeak” — meaning one thing but saying another.
To me, it’s always been clear that Duterte’s political game is one that weaponizes semantics.
During the 2016 presidential campaign, majority of the masses found a connection with Duterte, often attributed to his rhetoric that is mired with violent remarks and rape jokes. He spoke the way an ordinary man would, his supporters would say. Duterte doesn’t bat an eyelash when sprinkling his speeches with expletives and statements that would’ve been largely considered un-diplomatic or un-presidential. To many, he walked the talk: “Change is coming” was his slogan, and he was a break from the traditional politician mold.
This worked to his advantage, with 16 million Filipinos, or 39 percent of registered voters, electing him as President.
Duterte’s electoral campaign was grounded on his stance against criminality and, in particular, the illegal drug trade. When he eventually became President, his key policy — a crackdown on illegal drugs called “Project: Double Barrel”, or “tokhang” in common parlance — is branded as a war.
Within the first few months of the brutal program, tens of thousands of suspected drug personalities were killed, whether by police officers (uniformed or plainclothed) or unidentified assailants, all without due process.
Many dismissed the extrajudicial killings as “collateral damage” — because that’s what happens in a war, right? People die during battle against an enemy.
Further reading:
- Reuters: How a secretive police squad racked up kills in Duterte’s drug war
- Washington Post: Thousands dead. Police accused of criminal acts. Yet Duterte’s drug war is wildly popular.
- Vice: Bodies every night: Documenting the brutal Philippine drug war
What was barely included in the narrative is how drug use and abuse is not merely an issue of peace and order, but also one that centers on health and social economics. My opinion: The campaign against illegal drugs would’ve better served the Filipino public had the deadly crackdown (a different issue, altogether) been followed up with projects concerning mental health, and poverty and hunger.
Further reading:
- Inter-agency Committee on Anti-illegal Drugs (ICAD) Report — Vice President Leni Robredo, who was appointed ICAD co-chair in 2019 and served for only 19 days, released her report on her findings and recommendations pertinent to Duterte’s drug war early this year. I am unable to access the file on the Office of the Vice President’s website, so I re-uploaded a copy.
By now, through academic studies, journalistic accounts, and personal observation, the general public acknowledges that Duterte’s presidency is backed up by large-scale troll farm operations to push propaganda, shape public opinion, and attack dissenters.
A study by the University of Oxford in 2017 found that Duterte spent 200,000 USD, or about 10 million in Philippine peso, for this new political strategy. The Asia Global Institute at the University of Hong Kong used the term “patient zero” to describe the deluge of disinformation and misinformation that plagued the 2016 presidential elections in the country, one that serves as a precedent now to similar cyber campaigns in other countries.
Further reading:
- Philstar.com: Duterte camp spent $200,000 for troll army, Oxford study finds
- Inquirer: Confessions of a troll
- Washington Post: Why crafty Internet trolls in the Philippines may be coming to a website near you
Among Filipinos, these trolls are known as DDS — Duterte Diehard Supporters, or “Dutertards”, the latter a term that also connotes a mental disability. But prior to this game of keyboard warriorship, DDS referred to a different group that is nearly as synonymous to Duterte’s legacy in his long years of service as mayor of Davao city: the Davao death squad.
Further reading:
Before becoming President, Duterte was Davao mayor for a total of seven terms (or 21 years) — stepping down every three consecutive terms as is mandated by the Constitution, serving in a different local post while his family acts as a seat-warmer until he is able to return to the mayoralty.
Even as a local official, Duterte’s brand of leadership has always been one associated with unlawful killings. The Davao death squad in 2009 became the focus of an investigation and a series of public hearings under the Commission on Human Rights (CHR), then chaired by now-senator Leila de Lima.
A vocal and staunch Duterte critic, De Lima is presently detained at the New Bilibid Prison in Muntinlupa, the main penitentiary in the country, for charges she claims to be political persecution.
The current COVID-19 health crisis draws similarities to Duterte’s anti-illegal drugs campaign in the sense that the President empowers the police force to “shoot to kill” violators.
This is yet another pressing issue affecting millions of Filipinos, yet the President resorts to state-backed violence as a solution.
On Wednesday, videos shared on social media broke the news of a helpless man being shot twice in the chest by a police officer. The victim was Winston Ragos, a former military man who came out of the service with a different, lifelong battle: schizophrenia and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Further reading:
The following is a graphic video, one of a few that may serve as evidence if (read: if, not when) this case is brought to the courts.
This is the other angle of the video. You’ll see that the man who was shot was in the act of reaching for something in his bag. You’ll hear voices asking police why they didn’t search the man first before they shot him. pic.twitter.com/ZALp5Sx10q
— Barnaby Lo (@barnabychuck) April 22, 2020
In the video, bystanders, possibly neighbors of Ragos, can be heard exclaiming: “Bakit n’yo binaril? Dapat kinapakan n’yo muna!” (Why did you have to gun him down? You should’ve stopped and frisked him first!)
This morning, in his pre-recorded but late presser, Duterte did not even acknowledge the death of the army veteran who served the nation, at the hands of a uniformed man who has sworn to protect citizens.
“If the government is to serve any purpose, it is to do for others what they are unable to do for themselves.”If there’s anything that changes after this pandemic, I hope it’s that Filipinos become more aware of our rights, be braver in speaking up against abuses, and reclaim the power that is ours in the first place in this democracy. A day of reckoning will come. •
— Lyndon Baines Johnson, President of the United States