Watch closely what’s happening in the Philippines. A newly elected president seems to be redefining the expressions “war on drugs” and “war on crime,” with added emphasis on the word “war.”

But is this a new movement in or just the return of an old one? And does the Philippine presidential campaign foretell anything about the presidential race unfolding this summer in the United States?

Rodrigo Duterte, the new Philippine president, campaigned on a pledge to crush crime. He appears poised to deliver on his pledge. Since Duterte took office last week, police have killed at least 100 criminal suspects including 30 drug dealers and seized $20 million worth of crystal methamphetamine and other narcotics, they said.

Duterte, 71, is a former prosecuting attorney and mayor of the southern city of Davao, where he was known for his tough-on-crime tactics for 20 years. His nicknames include “The Punisher,” “Duterte Harry” and more recently “the Donald Trump of Asia.”

In his final campaign speech, Duterte said he’s even prepared to slaughter a criminal in front of human rights activists and other critics.

“I will butcher him in front of them if they want,” he said.

Duterte’s victory hinged on the central issue of what constitutes war — and specifically, what triggers the wartime powers of a nation’s chief executive — powers including suspension of due process, search and seizure and other constitutionally protected rights.

As a candidate, Duterte made no secret about his intentions. He campaigned on the premise and promise of war — not only against crime and drugs, but also against an entrenched political system regarded by many as lawless, corrupt and ineffective.

The Philippine voters had a clear choice. They voted for the strong man. They chose to declare war against crime, to suspend human rights and to more swiftly prosecute their enemies.

But the Philippines has history with a dictatorial president. Ferdinand Marcos, president from 1965 until 1981, declared martial law in 1972, mushroomed the $2 billion national debt to $30 billion and skimmed $5 billion to $10 billion of that for his personal gain. Amnesty International accused Marcos and 80 of his ranking officials of torture.

It’s ironic that the leaders of the reformist revolt that overthrew Marcos, which has been since 1986, now are accused of the complacency and corruption that once plagued the Marcos regime. Those accusations were incorporated into Duterte’s successful campaign.

Yet throughout the mercurial transfer of power there has been one constant, predictable and logical force: the will of the people. Those who were recruited for the rebellion against bad rule turned away from the rebellion when its leaders became as corrupt as their predecessors.

That’s likely to happen again if “Duterte Harry” goes too far or too long with his heavy-handed anti-crime vigilantism.

The people have the final say. That’s true in the Philippines. Even more so in the United States, regardless of who wins the presidency in November.