[Inside the Newsroom] Duterte-induced PTSD

Imagine yourself in the Rappler newsroom during the four days that the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague conducted hearings to confirm the charges of crimes against humanity against former Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte. Across the big screens in the center of the newsroom, the small TVs in a few other corners, and the monitors in the production control room blared the presentations of the victims’ lawyers and the strongman’s counsel. 

We were familiar with the arguments we were hearing — for around five hours each day, 5 pm to 10 pm our time in Manila. Our journalists’ extensive and insightful reportage on Duterte’s war on drugs since a decade ago made us know what to expect. In fact, in editorial huddles and in weekly agenda I prepared in the weeks leading up to the hearings, I would give the team three reasons not to treat this as any other coverage: 

• Not every generation of Filipinos, of journalists, lives to witness a former president being tried in a court outside of the country where he ordered killings with impunity. 
• Rappler’s research and investigative reports, along with the equally courageous work of colleagues from other news and advocacy groups, are liberally cited in the statements and cases. 
• This is the Filipino people’s story. 

(Watch Day 1, Day 2, Day 3,and Day 4. Read also the highlights from February 23, February 24, February 26, and February 27.) 

When Duterte’s voice started echoing in the newsroom, however, many of us found ourselves disoriented, heaving deep sighs, some feeling a certain numbness, some fighting off tears. 

This was what we were not prepared for. 

During breaks in the hearing that we were livestreaming from The Hague, we had a live panel with journalists and lawyers in the studio, and we replayed video reports from the drug war era. 

Mothers howling. Children wailing. Terrified suspects pleading for their lives. Pak-pak-pak — gunshots. Sirens. “Tatay Digong” ordering police to kill, kill, kill someone else’s sons. Duterte punctuating his speeches with “P——g i—!” blurted out in a way that would make a decent person recoil. 

After the first night of the broadcast, we huddled in the corners of the newsroom, chatted online with the journalists in the field, asked each other how we were doing after watching and hearing everything again. May PTSD pala tayo. How are you holding up? 

PTSD — post-traumatic stress disorder. Are we being OA about this? Do we have the right to make a big deal of this resurfaced trauma when the families of victims, even the lawyers and individuals who risked so many things to help them, went through — and are still going through — deeper and unimaginable pain? 

Lian Buan, our senior investigative reporter who was in The Hague, told me: 

I was choking up listening to Joel Butuyan on Day 1, having to relive all of the brutality all over again. I kept my eyes from watering because I thought I was not allowed to. When the court was on break, other reporters more senior than me had allowed their eyes to tear up. I took that as permission that I could, too. 

After the break, I discovered I had crumpled tissue in the pocket of my bag, so I brought it and put it through the X-ray machine. The court guard said I could use their trash can to throw it out. I said, “No, thank you. I’ll need it.”

Jodesz Gavilan, our senior researcher who was Lian’s desk-bound partner during the coverage, said: 

Following Duterte’s pre-trial hearing reminded me again why I went to therapy numerous times during his six years in office. I felt lightheaded, and my hands went numb. I can only imagine how much more intense this must be for the families left behind by the drug war victims.

Pia Ranada, who was our reporter covering Malacañang during Duterte’s time, said: 

Just hearing his voice — the forceful way he talks about hating fellow humans, denigrating them, reducing their humanity — makes my skin crawl and makes me want to walk out of the room.

It’s hard to believe that almost every day for six years, ‘yan halos ‘yung soundtrack ng buhay ko. I’m grateful that, despite all that, I emerged with my sense of goodwill intact. 

Jairo Bolledo, who has covered the police side of the drug war, anchored the live broadcast for two nights. More than trauma, this was what he felt during the replays:  

Disdain — disdain for Pinoys who were questioning the cost of bringing victims’ families to the hearing, peddling fake news about the [supposed designer] bags of the victims. Very DDS.

Rappler correspondent Michelle Abad was with Lian in The Hague. The coverage was full circle for her: 

I was a student-journalist in Ateneo during the peak of Duterte’s drug war, covering risky protests that cops had visited and attempted to profile. Watching his words replayed in the ICC as a professional journalist is something I’d never imagined experiencing, as his own words — striking fear among us at the time they were uttered — were powerless now. 

When the prosecution and victims’ representatives recounted the brutality of the killings and their enduring trauma, there was no way for me to find a direct view of the victims’ faces. And so I studied their reactions in the reflection of the public gallery window, jotting down notes on the tears I saw fall while fighting back my own. For 10 years, there was always a challenge in navigating journalism and my own convictions. That challenge continues today.

PTSD, says the Mayo Clinic, “is a mental health condition that’s caused by an extremely stressful or terrifying event — either being part of it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares, severe anxiety, and uncontrollable thoughts about the event.”

Never in our dreams did we think we would fully feel or understand the suffering of the families victimized by the brutality of a murderous leader. We could only honor their fight for justice for the long haul. But we also acknowledge the wounds that we carry as journalists, so we could bear witness for the victims, for the country, for the next generations of Filipinos (no matter if their forebears now support or oppose Duterte and his drug war).  

Should the ICC rule to bring the case against Duterte to trial, this will take time — years; definitely years. And Rappler and its journalists will see it through. Will you make this commitment with us? You can support our work by donating to Rappler’s investigative fund or by joining our membership program, Rappler+.

RECOMMENDED STORIES

• Duterte’s ICC pre-trial: What prosecution, victims, defense say about the drug war
• ‘Minaliit ang aming pagkatao’: Victims say Duterte defense belittled their trauma 
• The treacherous road to The Hague for the victims, their lawyers, and advocates
• Volunteers band together to protect drug war victims at ICC
• Inside the pro-Duterte playbook: A year of disinformation vs ICC case
• Fact Check wRap: Lies about Duterte’s case at the ICC

– Rappler.com