(Part 1)
“DUTERTISMO is to the Philippines what Trumpism is to America,” remarks political economist Calixto Chikiamco, underscoring the striking similarities between two populist movements that have reshaped their respective political landscapes. Both Rodrigo Duterte and Donald Trump ascended to power by capitalizing on widespread discontent among voters who felt excluded by the political establishment. Their successes were built not on policy details but on emotionally charged narratives, presenting themselves as anti-elite crusaders who would restore order and accountability to a broken system. As the Philippines faces the specter of the Dutertes’ national comeback in 2025 and 2028, the opposition must confront a fundamental question: How can it challenge the enduring appeal of a populist leader whose legacy continues to resonate with millions?
The parallels between Dutertismo and Trumpism are striking, not just in their appeal to disaffected voters but also in the underlying erosion of democratic norms. Both leaders thrived in environments of deepening social and economic divisions, where traditional political parties failed to adequately address the concerns of marginalized groups. Research consistently shows that populist leaders succeed by exploiting a profound dissatisfaction with the status quo. According to a 2019 study published in The Journal of Politics, populist movements in both Europe and the United States capitalized on voter alienation, which is often driven by perceived economic inequality and a loss of cultural identity. This same dynamic was present in the Philippines when Duterte, like Trump, positioned himself as the antidote to an elite-controlled government that had failed to meet the needs of ordinary citizens.
As Trump’s 2024 victory demonstrated, populist rhetoric thrives in an environment of dissatisfaction. According to historian Joseph Ellis, the appeal of Trumpism was less about policy and more about a visceral reaction to a changing America. “It was a rebellion against elites who had governed for decades without delivering for the people,” Ellis remarked. In the Philippines, Duterte’s rise was similarly a rejection of the political establishment, with his anti-elite stance and tough-on-crime message resonating with voters frustrated by a perceived failure of governance.
Similarly, Duterte’s 2016 campaign centered around a promise to restore law and order by aggressively cracking down on crime and corruption. According to a survey conducted by the Social Weather Stations (SWS) in 2016, 70% of Filipinos supported Duterte’s anti-drug campaign, despite concerns about extrajudicial killings. This overwhelming support underscores how Duterte’s message resonated emotionally with voters who felt insecure in their daily lives, even as his opponents warned about the dangers of his authoritarian tendencies. The same SWS survey revealed that 54% of respondents believed that the country was on the wrong track, signaling a deep discontent with traditional leadership.
For Filipino liberals, the challenge is not just to oppose the populist rhetoric but to rebuild trust in institutions that have been undermined. The question is: how can the opposition re-establish credibility in a system increasingly dominated by figures who thrive on distrust and division?
The American left’s failure to recover after Trump’s election reveals a fundamental misstep: the inability to adapt to a new political reality. Despite the rise of Trumpism, the Democrats have been slow to understand the depth of the political shift. The party’s traditional strategies — relying on policy debates, media engagement, and the intellectual elite — have fallen flat in an age where emotions, rather than reason, dictate much of the political conversation.
In his analysis of the Democratic defeat, political scientist Thomas Frank argued that the Democrats “did not see that the problem was not just Donald Trump — it was a system that had failed to deliver for large swathes of the population.” In this sense, the Philippines finds itself in a similar predicament. The opposition’s focus on technocratic solutions and traditional political strategies has alienated many voters who feel disconnected from the political process. As Frank’s assessment of the American left suggests, the failure is not just in opposition to populism but in understanding the root causes of the dissatisfaction that fuels it.
THE DISCONNECT BETWEEN ELITE POLITICS AND THE MASSES
One of the central lessons of the American Democratic loss is the profound disconnect between elite politics and the frustrations of the masses. For Filipino liberals, this is a critical point. While many in the political establishment may see the need for economic reforms or policy shifts, these arguments do not resonate with voters who feel excluded from the benefits of globalization, digitalization, and economic liberalization.
In fact, a 2020 study by the Institute for Development and Econometric Analysis found that a significant proportion of Filipinos felt disconnected from the political process, with 56% of respondents saying they trusted the government “only sometimes or never.” This distrust is amplified by the pervasive feeling that traditional politics has failed to deliver real change. The Philippines, like the US, faces a crisis of representation, where many voters believe the political system is rigged in favor of elites who do not understand or care about their struggles.
In the 2016 US election, Hillary Clinton’s campaign failed to connect with key working-class voters in swing states like Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania. According to Clinton’s campaign manager Robby Mook, the focus on policy and the technical aspects of governance — while important — was not enough to combat the emotional appeal of Trump’s promise to “drain the swamp” of Washington elites. “The American electorate was hungry for something outside the traditional system, for a message that resonated emotionally,” Mook reflected after the loss.
More recently, the 2024 US presidential election exposed the Democrats’ inability to connect with critical working-class voters, particularly in swing states and traditional Democratic strongholds. While Harris campaigned on a platform of moderation and inclusivity, she struggled to resonate with voters disillusioned by what they perceived as the Biden administration’s failures. According to post-election analysis, Harris’ strategy of courting suburban white voters and distancing herself from progressive policies alienated large segments of the Democratic base, including working-class and minority voters who were instrumental in past victories.
Trump, by contrast, expanded his appeal among historically Democratic demographics, including Black and Latino working-class men. His campaign emphasized a populist critique of the “deep state,” presenting himself as the only candidate capable of delivering real change in a system perceived as corrupt and ineffectual. Analysts observed that Harris’ attempts to position herself as a moderate only reinforced Trump’s narrative of her as an extension of the status quo.
For Filipino liberals, the lesson is clear: simply being the “rational” alternative to populism is insufficient. They must bridge the gap between elite-level rhetoric and the lived experiences of everyday Filipinos. This requires a politics that speaks to the fears, frustrations, and hopes of the broader electorate — one that recognizes the emotional currents that underlie political engagement today.
Take, for instance, the political divide in the Philippines during the 2016 presidential election. Despite the elite-driven campaigns of candidates like Mar Roxas, Duterte’s populist rhetoric resonated deeply with the masses. Duterte’s anti-elite, anti-establishment stance — and his promises to address issues such as crime and corruption — appealed to a large swath of voters who felt disenfranchised by decades of governance that seemed disconnected from their needs. His success was not in policy details but in his ability to tap into the anger and frustration of those who felt ignored.
This moment continues to define Filipino politics, and the failure of the opposition to learn from it remains a significant challenge. In the face of Duterte’s enduring popularity, the opposition continues to rely on outdated strategies, assuming that an appeal to reason and policy expertise will win back the electorate. As historian and former senator Butch Abad lamented, “The opposition has been too focused on what it stands against, rather than what it stands for.”
Perhaps the most instructive element of Trumpism, and Dutertismo as well, is the power of emotional resonance in political messaging. Both Trump and Duterte have demonstrated a keen understanding of how to channel popular frustration into a coherent and compelling narrative. In a world where information is mediated through social media platforms, the ability to craft a message that resonates emotionally with voters is perhaps the single most important political skill of our time.
Duterte, for instance, effectively utilized social media to bypass traditional gatekeepers — journalists and editors — building a direct line to his base. During the 2016 election, his viral Facebook posts and divisive rhetoric became central to his appeal, much as Trump’s use of Twitter dominated the political discourse. In both cases, the appeal was not to reason but to raw emotion: fear, anger, and a longing for national rejuvenation.
In the face of Trumpist and Dutertista populism, traditional forms of political engagement — through media outlets, think tanks, or academic institutions — have proven increasingly ineffective. The rise of digital platforms as political battlegrounds has rendered old-school political strategies obsolete. If the opposition is to win the hearts and minds of Filipinos, they must engage on the digital platforms where today’s political battles are fought. Former journalist and communications strategist Inday Espina-Varona observed, “The opposition must meet the people where they are: on social media, not in forums and debates.”
(To be continued.)
Jam Magdaleno is a political communications expert and currently heads the communication unit at the Foundation for Economic Freedom.
“What would get your CEO excited is if you can have one employee do the work of 10 people,” Mr. Dela Rama said.