The Philippines’ Red-tagging Campaign - How Communist Accusations Have Silenced Dissent

Youth organizations hold a protest against red-tagging. Photo courtesy by Ryomaandres.

In the Philippines, receiving a communist label could serve as your death sentence. Reminiscent of 1940s McCarthyism in the United States, the Philippines is undergoing a Red Scare, resulting in a slew of extrajudicial killings, a censored press, and a fractured democracy.

According to Supreme Court Associate Justice Marvic Leonen, “red-tagging” (or red-baiting) is defined as: “the act of labeling, branding, naming, and accusing individuals and/or organizations of being left-leaning, subversives, communists or terrorists.” The definition further clarifies that the strategy is instigated by “state agents, particularly law enforcement agencies and the military, against those perceived to be ‘threats’ or ‘enemies of the State.’” 

Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte’s populist regime has become notorious for its instances of red-tagging opposition, spearheaded by the military-led National Task Force to End the Local Communist Armed Conflict (or NTF-ELAC). In light of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, red-tagging accusations served as the perfect diversion, carefully concealing the administration’s weak healthcare system and delayed pandemic response. As the Filipino public’s criticisms over the administration’s pandemic response grew, the NTF-ELAC ramped up its red-tagging efforts, targeting medical front liners, Filipina actresses, and even the nation’s very own vice-president, Leni Robredo. These “red-tagged individuals” were publicly accused by administration officials of communist ties, causing not only mass hysteria among the general public but serious consequences for these individuals. Online harassment campaigns and anti-terrorism legislation have all run rampant under the red-tagging campaign. 

More significantly, red-tagging has come with an extreme human cost in the form of extrajudicial killings. The consistent stream of red-tagging reached its apotheosis in March 2021, when nine activists in the surrounding capital region of Metro Manila were murdered by police and soldiers in a crackdown now known as “Bloody Sunday.” The Bloody Sunday murders occurred days after President Duterte’s speech, in which he encouraged extrajudicial killings of alleged communists, stating that he “told the military and the police that if they find themselves in an armed encounter with the communist rebels, kill them, make sure you really kill them and finish them off if they are alive [translated in English].” On top of the nine murders, six other individuals were arrested under search warrants of communist ties. The situation has become so dire that the United Nations released a public statement in March 2021, in which spokesperson Ravina Shamdasani expressed her concern for the ‘Bloody Sunday’ murders, stating that the UN was “deeply worried that these latest killings indicate an escalation in violence, intimidation, harassment and red-tagging of human rights defenders.” 

By breeding a culture of fear and distrust, red-tagging detracts from Filipino citizens’ freedom of speech and expression, holding its citizens hostage with the threat of a red-tagging accusation. This fear consequently shatters the nation’s democratic principles of equality and liberty among citizens. Subsisting in an almost dystopian reality, anyone could be culpable of terrorism in the Philippines. 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

What has sparked this culture of scapegoating? While many perceive red-tagging to be a recent phenomenon, the Philippines’ position as a former colony of the United States may help shape our understanding of the ongoing red-tagging campaign. 

The United States’ intervention in the Philippines has helped to foster a legacy of anti-communist hostility. . Fuelled by Cold War hysteria in the United States, the Philippines integrated anti-communist rhetoric into their political agenda, forming the ‘Committee on Un-Filipino Activities’ in 1949, which targeted individuals who opposed American policies, most notably the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and its adjacent sympathizers. The committee centered its attacks on student activists and university professors. 

During the reign of martial law in the Philippines, a 14-year period from 1972 to 1986, the Philippine Communist Party grew in numbers, eventually forming its armed wing: the notorious New People’s Army (now referred to jointly as CPP-NPA). Currently, the CPP is the world’s oldest existing communist insurgency and claims to have a presence in 73 of the nation’s 81 provinces. Today, the targeted harassment of dissenters, much like the Committee on Un-Filipino Activities, rings true in President Duterte’s administration, finding its points of attack in “communist sympathizers” — an often baseless accusation for critics of the administration. 

President Duterte’s relationship with communism in the Philippines is unexpected, even hypocritical. Duterte was a former student of Jose Maria Sison, founder of the Philippines’ Communist Party, as well as a consultant for the National Democratic Front (NDF), an allied organization of the Communist Party that was designated as a terrorist organization by the nation’s anti-terrorism council. Duterte has even claimed to be a left-leaning socialist and previously engaged in peace talks with the CPP-NPA at the beginning of his term. Yet his recent actions have proven the complete opposite.

The military’s increased role, particularly amidst the pandemic, may provide us context into Duterte’s paradoxical relationship with communism. Duterte has stated in the past that he fears a military coup, which would cause his forcible removal from office. Thus, his shifting stance on communism may serve as a tactic to appease the military forces, particularly due to their dominion over the red-tagging campaign. Alleged threats of national security, with an underlying history of McCarthyist influence, may have both contributed to President Duterte’s extremist stance. Furthermore, as critiques over the administration grow, fuelling national discontent, red-tagging has become a highly effective and efficient strategy in silencing dissent.

Although the Filipino government and communist rebels have continually had an antagonistic relationship, Duterte’s administration waged an “all-out war” against the communist rebels, claiming that a lack of law and order had contributed to the rebel’s burgeoning presence in mainly rural areas of the Philippines. Further, the imposition of the Anti-Terrorism Bill of 2020, which added further stipulations to the previous Human Security Act of 2007, has enabled government officials to arrest individuals with suspected communist ties without judicial proceedings. 

The government has recently claimed that they are on track to fully eliminating the communist rebellion by mid-2022.

CLICK ARMIES

Social media has played a prominent role in the red-tagging campaign due to its prevalent use in the Philippines. Hailed as the “social media capital” of the world, the Philippines has approximately 80 million network users, with Facebook being its second most popular social media platform. Over the course of the pandemic, it has provided task force officials with the perfect medium for accusations. 

A key example of this is the accusations targeted at community organizer Ana Patricia Non, who set up pantries across Metro Manila with essential goods for impoverished citizens during the pandemic. A local police force posted on Facebook publicly accusing Patricia and other pantry organizers of having ties to the New People’s Army. The task force’s spokesperson, Lt. Gen. Antonio Parlade, even likened Patricia to Satan, stating that “Patricia is one person, right? Same with Satan. Satan gave Eve an apple. That's how it all started.” For fear of her safety, Patricia temporarily closed the community pantry — a chilling sign that social media threats transcend mere internet disputes.

‘CAMALIGAN COMMUNITY PANTRY.’ Photo courtesy by Kunokuno.

The use of social media as a form of intimidation has been a frequent tool from government officials. A report from the University of Massachusetts-Amherst revealed that politicians hire colloquially-termed “internet trolls” or “click armies” to propagate disinformation and dominate online political discourse through fake social media accounts. These click armies are a conglomerate of a wide network of advertising strategists, digital influencers, and community-level fake account operators. When Filipinos attempt to speak up, a deluge of negative comments flood them out, making it close to impossible to speak out.

Click armies have held hegemony in the Philippines, even propelling Duterte to his current position as president. A study from Oxford University found that Duterte’s political party, PDP-Laban paid $200,000 on social media marketing, employing “click armies” to dominate political discussions defending him against critics. If fake social media accounts can completely sway an election, how could we trust any democratic process in the Philippines?

It’s becoming increasingly evident that social media’s presumption as a democratic space for discourse is merely an illusion. Facebook’s weak content moderation makes it the most vulnerable social media platform for political abuse, and there’s no indication that the situation will get better. Hidden behind seemingly innocuous ads lie propaganda machines, churning hatred and censorship one comment at a time.   

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS

As a result of social media’s toxic atmosphere, the Philippines suffers from a devolving state of press freedom. According to the World Press Freedom Index, the Philippines ranks 138th out of 180 countries for their press freedom—a sharp decline from its former title as the “freest press in Asia.”

According to the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ), there have been a total of 223 cases of attacks and threats against members of the Philippine press from June 2016, when President Duterte assumed office, to April 2021. More than half of these cases are linked to state agents. Additionally, these attacks extend far beyond the digital sphere, with incidents including physical assault, arrest, and even murder. 

Independent news outlets, most notably online news website Rappler, are hit the hardest by the red-tagging campaign. CEO and co-founder of Rappler, Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa, is a prime target of the Philippine government for her articles exposing human rights abuses amidst the administration’s ruthless drug war. Ressa has been harassed by political officials, arrested in the Rappler headquarters in an effort to censor her work, and even tried for cyber libel.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa. Photo courtesy of Rappler.

Ressa emphasizes the severity of the state-sponsored censorship in PBS documentary ‘A Thousand Cuts,’ stating that “what we’re seeing is a death by a thousand cuts of our [the Philippines’] democracy. When you have enough of these cuts, you are so weakened that you will die.”

HOLDING THE LINE

In light of the upcoming May 2022 elections, cases of red-tagging and online trolling will exponentially increase. Much like the Philippines’ 2016 election, many of Duterte’s party members are sure to employ throes of “click armies” in an effort to hold dominion over Filipino voters.

Thus, opposition lawmakers have proposed an anti-red-tagging bill, House Bill No. 9437, in an effort to mitigate further cases of red-tagging. The bill marks the third proposal of an anti-red-tagging bill, many of which have been withdrawn from the Senate. 

The bill clarifies the several mediums of red-tagging through “statements, social media posts, announcements, declarations, signages, streamers, placards, public fora and other similar venues or media where individuals, entities, groups and/or organizations are publicly labeled, vilified, branded, named, accused or caricatured” as “state enemies, subversives, armed rebels, communists or terrorists or [their] fronts.” 

The bill additionally proposes a punishment of imprisonment for up to six years for public officials and employees who commit any case of red-tagging. However, given previous bills’ withdrawal from Congress, it is unlikely that the bill will be implemented in the near future and the battle for implementing red-tagging legislation may continue for years to come.

When legislation fails, grass-roots support is integral in battling the administration’s red-tagging campaign. Independent organizations in the Philippines, from Rappler to Vera Files, play a key role in holding the Filipino administration accountable and reporting on underrepresented issues that deserve national attention. Many of these organizations focus their efforts on community engagement, creating groups to fact-check various cases of fake news promulgated along social media. For instance, Rappler’s Facebook group ‘Fact-Checking in the Philippines’ is only one of their many initiatives in promoting transparent media literacy. When explaining the significance of the page, the group states that “it will take a community, like this, to stop lies in its tracks – or at the very least, delay it – while the truth is putting on its shoes.” 

Amidst a society built upon deception and falsehoods, an administration that fails to grant citizens its basic human rights, and a growing list of extrajudicial killings, organizations like Rappler are essential to a working democracy. Their vigilance is imperative against the Philippine administration’s authoritarian governance. To quote Ressa, “we will not duck; we will not hide. we will hold the line.” 

Formed from the embers of the Cold War era, the Philippines’ red-tagging campaign is an imminent threat, with repercussions extending towards the nation’s democratic governance and civil society. As Duterte’s administration sacrifices human lives for a warped sense of law and order, citizens are left with bounties on their heads, trapped within a cesspool of lawlessness and corruption. Much like the Bloody Sunday murders, red-tagging leaves behind a trail of bodies — a haunting omen of what is to come. 

Amelie De Leon (BC ‘25) is a staff writer for CPR and political science and film and media studies double major. Her hobbies include rating movies on Letterboxd, spending too much money in H-mart, and reading Joan Didion’s essays.