When people hold two conflicting ideas and are forced to twist logic or ignore facts to make themselves feel comfortable again, cognitive dissonance happens. In recent Philippine politics, no one has made use of cognitive dissonance better than Rodrigo Duterte and his loyalists.
Now that the former president has already been arrested and is currently detained at The Hague by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for crimes against humanity, his supporters are scrambling to reconcile their admiration for him with the reality that the world sees him as a human rights violator.
The result? A mess of contradictions, selective reasoning, and outright denial—all in the name of preserving the strongman myth they have clung to for years.
One of the most glaring contradictions is how Duterte’s supporters are suddenly obsessed with due process. These are the same people who cheered when he waged his war on drugs, where thousands were killed without trial. Police gunned down suspected pushers and users in dark alleys, and the public was told to accept their deaths without question. No judge, no lawyers, no due process.
And yet, now that Duterte himself is being called to answer for these very actions, his supporters cry about human rights, legal procedures, foreign interference, and constitutional violations. They insist that the ICC has no jurisdiction because the Philippines withdrew from the Rome Statute in 2019—conveniently ignoring the fact that the court still has authority over crimes committed before the country’s withdrawal.
Duterte’s defenders also justify the brutal drug war, conveniently not acknowledging how it led to thousands of extrajudicial killings. Since the victims were criminals, they argue that the slain had it coming and deserved it, ignoring reports that many of those killed were small-time users or innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. This selective morality is another way cognitive dissonance works: to justify the indefensible, supporters reshape their sense of justice—human rights apply, but only to the “right” people. Them.
They also claim the war on drugs made the country safer, despite reports to the contrary. Drug syndicates have continued to operate. They don’t have any hard data to back their claims, but again, facts don’t matter (to them).
Loyalists have also mastered the art of deflection. Instead of engaging with evidence, they dismiss unfavorable reports as “fake news” or part of conspiracy theories. Media outfits exposing Duterte’s failures are branded as biased or paid. Independent journalists face harassment, lawsuits, red-tagging, and even threats to their lives.
Ironically, this deep distrust of traditional media has led many Filipinos to rely on social media for news—where fake news actually thrives. Misinformation is so rampant that some continue to believe that Ferdinand Marcos Sr. was the “best president” and that his son, Bongbong, will “restore the golden era.” Duterte weaponized this distrust by using online trolls and disinformation networks to control the narrative during his own presidential campaign.
When Duterte was in power, his camp dismissed human rights advocates as “too soft” on crime. Now, they expect the world to care about his rights as he faces international scrutiny.
When he was president, his supporters cheered his insults and crude language. Now, they demand that critics treat him with respect.
However, the real problem with cognitive dissonance in politics is that it blinds people to the truth and accountability. It breeds corruption as supporters refuse to question their leaders and twist facts to fit their narrative. It’s how dictators and trapos survive and how political dynasties stay in power.
