Former President Rodrigo Duterte, who has been dubbed as the “Punisher” of Davao, now faces charges of crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court (ICC) for his administration’s brutal war on drugs — a bloody campaign that claimed nearly 30,000 lives. As Philippine authorities move to extradite him to The Hague, where the ICC headquarters are located, his cult-like supporters have erupted in spectacle. Senator Bong Go delivered pizza to his gate, firebrand Lorraine Badoy shrieked conspiracy theories, and die-hard loyalists flooded social media with cries of injustice.
But beyond the political theater lies a darker, stranger subplot: The bizarre world of pro-Duterte music, where genres once synonymous with rebellion are twisted into odes for a man who weaponized state violence.
From folk legends to reggae rebels, musicians lent their voices to Duterte’s regime, creating a surreal soundtrack to his bloody reign. Let’s dissect how music became a tool for mythmaking and why these songs now sound like relics of a fractured era.
The Betrayal of Freddie Aguilar
Folk music, the historic voice of Philippine resistance, suffered its greatest betrayal when Freddie Aguilar, the ‘70s icon behind “Anak” and a symbol of dissent against the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos Sr., released “DUTERTE PARA SA PAGBABAGO.” Over acoustic strums, Aguilar railed against “trapos” (traditional politicians) and corruption, framing Duterte as a revolutionary savior.
But the track reeks of irony. Aguilar, who survived Martial Law’s brutality, now croons for a leader who endorsed extrajudicial killings. His frail and weathered voice, once a beacon of hope, now echoes with complicity. The song’s gentle melody feels like a sick joke, selling authoritarianism wrapped in a lullaby. Aguilar didn’t just endorse Duterte; he weaponized folk music’s soul against the very people it once uplifted.
Rap Music’s Hollow Rebellion
Hip-hop, a genre built on speaking truth to power, was hijacked by 3GS (Shernan, M Zhayt, LilJohn), whose 2016 anthem “Duterte Pa Rin Kami” became the unofficial hype track for Duterte’s campaign. Over boom-bap beats and a militant piano loop, they mocked opposition figure and former senator Mar Roxas, peddling Duterte’s promises of a “drug-free” Philippines.
The video shows the trio campaigning in crowded streets, their charisma swaying passersby like street-corner preachers. But time exposed the track’s emptiness. As bodies piled up in the drug war, “Duterte Pa Rin Kami” aged like curdled milk, a cringe relic of blind allegiance. The rappers’ punchlines now ring hollow, their “revolution” reduced to a hashtag for state-sanctioned murder.
Reggae’s Bizarre Detour
Reggae, with its roots in peace and resistance, took a baffling turn in 2022 when Davao-based band The Farmer dropped “BBM at Inday Sara,” a sunny endorsement of the UniTeam alliance between President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. and Vice President Sara Duterte. With laid-back grooves and feel-good harmonies, the track praised the duo as saviors, amassing millions of views during the election frenzy.
But the song’s legacy crumbled faster than the political marriage it celebrated. During the very public fall out between Marcos Jr. and Sara, The Farmer’s reggae utopia collapsed into awkward silence. The track now plays like a cautionary tale; even the chillest vibes can’t mask the stench of opportunism.
Metal Band Plethora’s Unholy Alliance
In the 2020s, the pro-Duterte wave even infected the Philippines’ metal scene. Plethora, a once-fierce underground act, rebranded as pop-rock cheerleaders for the regime, swapping their anti-establishment riffs for anthems glorifying Duterte’s “strongman” image. Their tracks, laden with double-bass fury and growls about “discipline” and “order,” became rallying cries for a fanbase hungry for chaos even if it meant betraying metal music’s rebellious core.
The irony? These same headbangers who once raged against tyranny now moshed to lyrics echoing state-sanctioned violence. Plethora’s shift wasn’t just a sellout, it was a surrender.
