Tag Archives: Quiboloy

Qwertyman No. 168: A Vote at the Vatican

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Qwertyman for Monday, October 20, 2025

iN GERMANY right now attending the 77th Frankfurter Buchmesse or Frankfurt Book Fair as a member of the Philippine delegation, I’ve been fortunate to engage in many interesting discussions with German journalists and fellow writers from all over. But one of the most important and frankly troubling conversations was one I had with a Filipino writer now based in Italy, someone with a deep knowledge and understanding of the political situation in his home country and particularly in Mindanao.

“There are two Philippine embassies in what most of us simply call Italy,” my source explained to me. “One is in Rome, and the other, called the Philippine embassy to the Holy See, is in Vatican City, which is a sovereign city-state. Most overseas Filipinos in Italy—over 100,000 of them, mostly domestic helpers and nurses—cast their votes for Philippine elections in our embassy in Rome. Those in the Vatican—priests, nuns, and other religious workers—vote there.”

“And so?”

“This is where it gets interesting. During the most recent midterm elections, where OFWs could vote for senator, there were 23 votes cast at the Vatican for Apollo Quiboloy.”

I had to let that sink in for a moment. “Wait a minute—you’re telling me that two dozen Catholic priests, nuns, and whoever at the Vatican voted for a disgraced and now imprisoned cult leader who calls himself the Appointed Son of God and New Owner of the Universe? Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t believe it myself,” he answered, “so I double-checked that with our embassy there, and they confirmed that it was true: Pastor Quiboloy got 23 votes in the Vatican. Now, I can try to understand if some Filipino Catholics would still vote for Duterte despite everything, but Quiboloy?” He shuddered. “That shows how far we have to go, and how we can’t assume that the Dutertes are spent as a political force.”

I had to laugh at his story, but it was laughter of the nervous kind, born out of irony than mirth. “Here we are in Frankfurt,” I said, “attending the world’s largest and oldest fair devoted to books and literature, to novels and fiction of the most imaginative variety, with many of us having a hard time selling our stories, and then comes along this Quiboloy tale that seems to show that people will believe the craziest things. This is fiction, popular fiction!”

You had to see the humor in the situation—I can easily imagine a cartoon depicting a soutaned priest receiving absolution from Quiboloy garbed in, well, shiny robes befitting a New Owner of the Universe—but its implications were anything but comic. It meant that presumably sane deeply spiritual men and women, living and working at the very heart of the Catholic faith that defined their lives, had found common cause with an accused sex trafficker and abuser of minors. Sure, the accusations remain just that until they’re proven, and sure, these Vatican voters were merely exercising their democratic rights. 

But really? Quiboloy? Might the pastor’s claim of bearing “the exact DNA of the Almighty Father and the New Jerusalem” and of being “the bodily manifestation of the unseen God” have resonated with them? Could they have been enticed by his devotion to “enthroning prosperity and abundance, and (being) a trustworthy steward of the Father’s financial business on earth”? 

Whatever the reason, it’s clear that the Pinoy’s political imagination is capacious enough to combine disparate perspectives and philosophies into one noggin. Pope Leo? Sure, obey. Senator Quiboloy? Sure, support. 

All throughout my talks here in Frankfurt, I’ve been asked who and what the modern Filipino is, and my best response has been to assert that the Filipino (and the Filipino nation) continues to be a work-in-progress, a compound of various historical and cultural influences contending for primacy. An example I conveniently cite is that of a New People’s Army cadre, presumably Marxist, who remains a practicing Christian and prays to Jesus, but who also begs the indulgence of resident spirits when he passes an anthill in the forest. We’re seguristas, investing in alternative fortunes. 

That’s not to say we don’t have people who think only one way and not the other—thankfully many if not most of us still stand on some kind of principle—but the exceptions make more interesting subjects of study. In this regard, Quiboloy’s Vatican voters may have been DDS who saw no contradiction between their Catholic faith and Dutertismo (something we’ve seen and continue to see among the religious, especially in Mindanao). 

I suddenly recalled an article published on Rappler in July 2020 by Fr. Amado Picardal, CSSR, who wondered aloud why so many of his colleagues, including a university president, openly rallied behind a man who cursed God and the Pope. He wrote: “In the religious community where I was living, most supported his candidacy, and I felt like a lonely voice warning them about the dire consequences…. One confrere proudly told me to my face that he was voting for Duterte, knowing my stance. A seminarian wore a Du30 bracelet. There were three confreres who posted their photos on Facebook doing a fist bump. A contemplative nun campaigned on Facebook for him and even made her pet dog wear a Du30 collar.” Fr. Amado offered some explanations: regionalism, the Left’s deluded belief in Duterte’s progressive pretensions, his strongman appeal. 

Given these, the Vatican result makes more sense, without offering any comfort to those of us who might have been under the illusion that proximity to the Vicar of Christ and Successor to the Prince of the Apostles induced enlightenment. Being the New Owner of the Universe apparently exerts more power, even from prison, and we should be afraid, be very afraid.

(Image from aleteia.org)

Qwertyman No. 111: Justice Fever

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Qwertyman for Monday, September 16, 2024

A DANGEROUS outbreak of justice fever has hit the Philippines these past few weeks, threatening to make that country’s startled citizens believe that their government is intent on doing right by the people, no matter what and come what may.

In quick succession, Bamban ex-mayor Alice Guo, alleged to be a Manchurian candidate, was picked up in Indonesia and flown back to the Philippines; another on the Philippines’ most wanted list, the self-styled “Son of God” Pastor Apollo Quiboloy, emerged from his subterranean kingdom to surrender to the Pharisees, er, authorities; why, even former Palawan governor Joel Reyes, wanted for the murder of an environmental crusader and long out of sight and out of mind, turned himself in; and it should only be a matter of time before ex-Rep. Arnie Teves comes home from his extended Timorese vacation to face murder charges in Negros Oriental. (I don’t think the return of former Iloilo Mayor Jed Mabilog, hounded out of office by the former President on trumped-up charges of drug trafficking, counts in this category.)

What on earth, you might ask, is going on? Is the government running some secret—and wildly successful—“balik-fugitive” campaign? Were there possibly offers and assurances made of kid-gloves treatment, fully furnished jail cells, state-witness options, conjugal visits, and lifetime colonoscopies?

For a while back there, it seemed like the old regime hadn’t completely vanished—you know, the chummy-chummy-with-criminals vibe, which that viral photo with the chinita mayor smiling sweetly and flashing “V” signs between her two captors seemed to suggest. But justice fever is vicious when it takes hold of its victims, and by the time Pastor Apollo Quiboloy was caught in Davao, the afflicted authorities had learned their lesson, and quickly whisked him away in a C-130 to Manila. Why, President Marcos Jr. even fired the chief of the Bureau of Immigration, Norman Tansingco, over the Guo affair. Illegal POGOs were raided, and captives freed.

As if this spate of high-profile catches and prosecutions wasn’t enough, in the Senate and the House of Representatives—once safely Duterte territory—lawmakers were outdoing each other poking holes into Vice President Sara Duterte’s P2-billion budget proposal. Her friend Harry Roque was found in contempt of Congress and served a warrant of arrest for failing or refusing to account for his unexplained wealth. 

Duterte ally Sen. Bong Go also caught the fever, proclaiming in a tweet that he had always been against POGOs, seeing them as a threat to peace and order. “For the record,” he emphasized, “I really hate POGOs.” Justice fever apparently induces amnesia, because the good senator forgot that three years ago, he voted in favor of RA 11591, taxing and effectively legitimizing POGOs in the country.

All this would have been unimaginable then, but here’s something even more incredible: former President Rodrigo Duterte—who routinely ordered his supporters and the police to “shoot” drug suspects without worrying too much about the finer points of the law—seems to have woken up from a kind of coma, suddenly remembering that he was, once upon a time, a lawyer wedded to the idea that people have human rights. 

We know that because Atty. Digong, probably still in a slight daze but overcome with a resurgent sense of right and wrong, filed charges of malicious mischief against Interior Secretary Benhur Abalos, PNP chief General Rommel Marbil, and PNP Region XI chief Brigadier General Nicolas Torre III in the wake of his patron and spiritual adviser’s arrest. 

Not being a lawyer, I had to look up exactly what “malicious mischief” means. Here’s what I found online: “Malicious mischief is a crime of property damage. In order to convict someone of malicious mischief, the prosecutor must prove the damage done to the property was not accidental. A person is guilty of malicious mischief when he or she ‘knowingly or maliciously’ causes physical damage to another person’s property.”

From what I gather, malicious mischief requires a certain, uhm, finesse, a delicacy that appreciates degrees of injury, and even ironic humor. “Mischief” isn’t like the sledgehammer of bloody, first-degree murder; it’s more like a yap rather than a roar, a pinch rather than a punch. You commit malicious mischief by, say, kicking your neighbor’s dog or unpotting his daisies. It’s meant more to annoy and enrage rather than to kill. (Interestingly, under the Revised Penal  Code, “destroying or damaging statues, public monuments or paintings” and “using any poisonous or corrosive substance; or spreading any infection or contagion among cattle; or who cause damage to the property of the National Museum or National Library” also qualify as special cases of malicious mischief.)

I haven’t read the charges in their entirety, so I don’t know exactly what Atty. Digong was complaining about—I’m guessing door locks broken and, okay, egos pricked. But the mere fact of Digong the Terrible sallying forth into a court of law on a matter as grievous as upended flower pots suggests to me—as I wrote about a few weeks ago—that the man has truly undergone the kind of religious conversion that now allows him to believe in, well, judicial justice. He, too, has caught the fever, and now reposes his faith in a judicial system he once decapitated with pronouncements such as this one from April 9, 2018, referencing then Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno: “I’m putting you on notice that I’m your enemy, and you have to be out of the Supreme Court!”

The only problem with this rash of righteousness and conscience is, how long will it last, and what will happen when it wears off and we return to our old jolly, reprobate selves? 

The Dutertes are easy targets, no thanks to their patriarch’s resolve to establish himself as the least presidential president in Philippine history. His successor is reaping the low-hanging fruit of that unpopularity, enjoying, no doubt, the unfolding spectacle. BBM should be warned, however, that like many afflictions, the effects of justice fever can be long-lasting. Once its victims get used to it, their delusions could linger, and they’ll keep expecting and wanting more, and more.

(Photo from dzar1026.ph)

Qwertyman No. 109: Digong’s Conversion

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Qwertyman for Monday, September 2, 2024

RATHER THAN mock former President Rodrigo R. Duterte for his unflinching support for his bosom friend and spiritual adviser, the fugitive Pastor Apollo Quiboloy, I think we should praise and congratulate him for finally seeing the light and acknowledging the importance of human rights.

It must be age, or the reflection afforded by retirement, but the Digong Duterte we heard from last week in the wake of the massive police raid on Quiboloy’s lair was worlds apart from the apoplectic and coarse-tongued person we used to know. It took some time—likely aided by a sobering reversal of political fortunes—but gone is the swaggering Mussolini of the past, prone to profanity and what his apologists liked to call “hyperbole,” replaced by the pained and measured indignation of the aggrieved.

Of course, his statement could have been crafted by one of his former spokespersons, who must therefore take responsibility for the minor grammatical and stylistic infelicities in the text—but how can we even complain about language when gross human rights violations are on the table?

For those of you who missed it because you were wasting your time deploring Caloy Yulo’s filial impiety, here’s what PRRD said, in full:

“Our country has never been in a more tragic state as it is today. Rights have been trampled upon and our laws, derided.

“Early today, elements of the Philippine National Police Regional Office, led by Gen. Nicolas Torre Ill, forced their way into the Kingdom of Jesus Christ compound which resulted to (sic) a violent confrontation and the unfortunate death of one KOJC member and the requiring of (sic) immediate medical attention of many others.

“We sympathize with the members of the KoJC for having become victims of political harassment, persecution, violence and abuse of authority. This certainly puts a dark stain on the hands of those involved in today’s incident, led by no less than the top police official of the region.

“We call on the remaining decent and patriotic members of our government not to allow themselves to be used and to be abusive and violent in enforcing illegal orders.

“We call on all Filipinos, regardless of political persuasion, to offer prayers for peace and justice, and to spare our people of the unwarranted tension brought about by the reign of fear and terror by people sworn to uphold the law and protect the citizens of this country.

“Again, let us ask this administration how it can guarantee the preservation of the constitutional rights of our fellow Filipinos when even the most fundamental of these rights are being blatantly violated? (sic)”

Why, minus the edits, this could have passed for something that PRRD’s arch-nemesis, former Sen. Leila de Lima, could have said a few years ago, before she went off to prison. Or it could have been mouthed by the late Chito Gascon, whose Commission on Human Rights PRRD sought to abolish for meddling in police investigations into dastardly drug deals, even getting Congress to pare its budget down to a more suitable P1,000. 

That Rodrigo Duterte could now speak so eloquently and convincingly of the need to uphold human rights is a testament to the possibility and power of redemptive conversion, which such famous miscreants as Paul of Tarsus and Ignatius of Loyola underwent. Gazing out on the horizon on the beaches of Davao (or in the Quiboloy compound, in his new job as its administrator), the former president must have felt a pang of remorse for all the lives that were needlessly lost under his administration—all because his followers in the police failed to understand, as his spokesmen were at pains to emphasize, that he was “only joking” and was given to “exaggerating” for rhetorical effect.

How in heaven’s name could they have taken him literally when he told a controversial police officer whom he assigned to a southern city in 2019, “Go there and you are free to kill everybody. Son of a b****, start killing there. The two of us will then go to jail!”

The following year, at another event in another province, PRRD was quoted by the newspapers as saying, in Filipino, “All addicts have guns. If there’s even a hint of wrongdoing, any overt act, even if you don’t see a gun, just go ahead and shoot him. You should go first, because you might be shot. Shoot him first, because he will really draw his gun on you, and you will die…. Human rights, you are preoccupied with the lives of the criminals and drug pushers. As mayor and as president, I have to protect every man, woman, and child from the dangers of drugs. The game is killing…. I say to the human rights, I don’t give a shit about you. My order is still the same. Because I am angry!”

Now, there’s every possibility that the president may have been misquoted by journalists hungry for incendiary news. But even granting that PRRD did say horrible things like that—perhaps in a fit of desperation over the fact that the drug menace he promised to eradicate in six months was still very much around toward the end of his presidency—that allegedly murderous despot is a ghost in the past. Today’s Digong is a sensitive soul with a nuanced sensibility that understands and will not countenance “abuse of authority” and “illegal orders,” especially when these are implemented by ingrates in the police force whose base pay he doubled (shame on the 2,000 cops who apparently forgot this in their brazen assault).

Indeed, if Rodrigo Roa Duterte can undergo and manifest such a miraculous conversion, then hope yet exists for the rest and the worst of us, who wallow in unproductive cynicism. Indeed it might even be that his resistance to the idea of yielding Pastor Quiboloy to the authorities stems from the deep debt of gratitude he feels toward his spiritual adviser, with whom he must have read and parsed many a Bible story. If there’s anything we Filipinos and especially the Dutertes understand and respect, it’s the value of friendship—right? Something in me already misses the old Digong, but I’ll gladly march with this new one in defense “of the constitutional rights of our fellow Filipinos.” I hope Sen. Leila can find it in her heart to forgive and forget, and link arms with Lady Justice’s latest convert.