[Pastilan] If Duterte were truly brave, why does a courtroom scare him?

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Just start and speed up the trial of Rodrigo Duterte.

The “bring-him-home” brigade, the DDS, seem to believe that justice is a matter of volume rather than verdict. That if they shout long enough, wave enough flags, and weep into enough cameras, the law will dissolve in the warm bath of their sentimentality.

That is a profound misreading of justice. Courts and judges don’t take orders from mobs – unless, of course, we’re reenacting the Pontius Pilate fiasco based on the biblical narrative. And if the judges do start bowing to the crowd, then congratulations, they just turned humanity’s justice system into a bad game show.

That won’t be Lady Justice anymore. That will be some blindfolded hack, peeking out to see which way the wind is blowing. There’s a process – yes, due process in the International Criminal Court (ICC) – but it’s amusing how the Dregs of a Decaying Society conveniently sweep that under the rug.

Let’s not pretend there’s a Christ-like figure in The Hague. What we have there is Barabbas, a detainee from Davao. No one’s about to be martyred for humanity’s sins. Rather, we have the reverse: a man whose alleged crimes against humanity are so numerous that even the dullest intellect would struggle to keep count. And yet, the DDS mob clamors not for justice, but for a homecoming. They demand the return of a man who, by all available evidence, has left a trail of corpses in his wake.

In this kind of situation, a sane society would expedite the trial. A sick one would hold a parade.

But what the world hears are loud, shameless voices that couldn’t care less about justice. They just want their guy back. 

There’s due process in The Hague, but the DDS only remember it when their old man is in the hot seat. When “justice” came in the form of bullets from a motorcycle, they had no problem. But now? Now they’re outside, shouting: “Injustice! He deserves a fair trial!”

Really? You know who else deserved one? The 6,000-plus. Or 30,000-plus. Math gets tricky when bodies pile up overnight, but let’s not get bogged down in numbers.

Why won’t the DDS let him face his accusers in a court free from the taint of Filipino political influence? There, only legal processes and the merits of the case – not backroom deals or tribal loyalties – would actually matter. There, he will have time to prove his assertion of illegal arrest and “state kidnapping.”

He was told not to go on a killing spree, but no, he couldn’t resist acting like a badass. He trashed human rights, and bragged that he would kick ICC people. We all watched and heard that.

“I and I alone will answer,” he declared. Tough guy, right? Everyone heard that. Let’s hear him say that again – today.

Yet, now, his voice shakes, his spine turns to jelly, and his crown jewels shoot north to his forehead as his briefs soak through. All of a sudden, he’s the victim. He’s 80? So what? That’s supposed to come with a get-out-of-detention-free card?

Better ditch the “bring-him-home” nonsense. If the DDS want a slogan that actually makes sense, try “Start and speed up the trial.” Even the left, right, center, and the guy in the back pretending not to care can agree on that. 

Still, the DDS don’t want justice. They want a shortcut. They don’t want a courtroom; they want a homecoming parade. 

‘Bangag’?

And while we’re on the topic of selective outrage, let’s tackle another favorite DDS slogan: “Bangag.” That’s what they, including Sara Duterte, call the man they turned into a president in 2022. The DDS put their shade on the ballot for someone they now say is strung out. What a noisy crowd of enablers. Kamo ra’y nibotar ana, mga kagwanga mo.

“Nabudol tayo,” they admit in their own words. Speak for yourselves. What else should we call a loud and credulous rabble that confesses to being duped, yet insists on advertising its own gullibility as if it were a badge of honor? A nation’s future cannot be left in the hands of self-confessed budol victims reveling in their own swindle.

Remember that grand, bloody farce of a drug war? The one where suspects – some probably guilty, the innocent, the dead, and the non-submissive politicians all rolled into one – were shamed on national TV while others were mysteriously shot while “trying to grab a gun”? Somehow, Ferdinand Marcos Jr. never made it onto that narco list. And, curiously, not one DDS ever bothered to ask why the son of a late dictator simply slipped through the cracks. 

Thousands of poor and defenseless Filipinos – many with dirt under their fingernails, Duterte’s own countrymen – were summarily executed on mere suspicion of peddling drugs. Yet Marcos wasn’t even worth a fake police raid at that time? The name of a dead judge who could no longer defend his reputation was read for all to hear, but Marcos got a free pass?

Either Duterte was Marcos’ protector then, or he was never on that sham of a narco list to begin with.

If Marcos had really been a druggie, Duterte would have bannered his name when he was still in power. Instead, Marcos’ name magically appears years later, when it’s politically expedient. So there you have it – the whole thing about Duterte’s narco list and the drug war was a sham.

And what of Yang Hong Ming, a.k.a. Michael Yang? The Chinese profiteer, fattened on POGO spoils, saw the COVID-19 crisis not as a calamity but as a cash cow, siphoning our taxes with the efficiency of a seasoned kleptocrat. As if that weren’t enough, his name surfaced in connection with the narcotics trade. And yet, this paragon of enterprise, this foreigner, was none other than Duterte’s economic adviser. That was a Chinese fox not just guarding the Philippine henhouse, but writing its financial reports.

And now, the DDS want us to believe that “bring him home” from The Hague is the real priority? Hell no! Start and speed up Duterte’s trial. That’s what justice looks like.

The world, in its boundless generosity and dark humor, has always found room for the credulous, the gullible, or the proudly deluded. So, we indulge Holocaust deniers and flat-earthers, the moon-landing truthers, and those who find secret messages in fast-food menus with a smirk and a sigh. But there is one that distinguishes itself not merely for being an example of misguided thinking, but as a grim case study in how a nation can be undone by the willful abdication of intellect. The f***ing DDS. Pastilan. – Rappler.com