
From the streets of Manila to the halls of The Hague — Rodrigo Duterte now faces his most difficult fight yet. This September 23 to 26, the International Criminal Court (ICC) will hold hearings that could decide if he becomes the first Asian former head of state to face trial for crimes against humanity. The court will not begin a full trial just yet; instead, judges will first determine whether the evidence is strong enough to proceed.
At the center of the proceedings is Rodrigo Duterte’s “war on drugs,” launched in 2016 immediately after he assumed the presidency. What began as a campaign promise to eliminate illegal drugs quickly escalated into a bloody crackdown. Official police figures place the death toll at several thousand, but United Nations experts, Amnesty International, and Human Rights Watch argue the number is far higher, pointing to widespread killings both in police operations and in what they describe as vigilante-style attacks.
ICC prosecutors contend these deaths were not random but part of a deliberate and systematic policy that targeted civilians on a massive scale. The scope of the case also extends beyond Duterte’s presidency: even during his years as mayor of Davao City, similar patterns of violence were documented, forming the basis for the ICC’s position that the alleged crimes amount to crimes against humanity—serious offenses committed systematically against civilian populations.
Beyond the death toll, the government also reported:
This sharp gap between official numbers and independent estimates remains one of the most contentious aspects of the case. Human rights groups argue that the lower government count minimizes the human toll, while international investigators point to thousands of “homicides under investigation” that were later excluded from official reports.
The ICC then has allocated 16 hours across four days for the confirmation of charges hearing. The time will be shared by three parties:
At the end of the hearing, three ICC judges will decide whether the charges should move forward. A confirmation of charges is not a determination of guilt or innocence but simply a decision on whether the case has enough basis to proceed to trial.
While the Philippines left the ICC in 2019 as Duterte withdrew the country from the ICC — this withdrawal did not erase the court’s authority over crimes allegedly committed while the country was still a member. Since many of the killings took place before 2019, prosecutors say the case remains valid.
Initially, President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr.’s administration resisted cooperation with the ICC. But political realities shifted after the Marcos–Duterte alliance broke down. The two families had shared power during the 2022 elections, but disagreements and rivalry quickly deepened. In recent months, Marcos allowed the ICC warrant to move forward — a decision seen as both a legal duty and a calculated political move.
In September 2025, Duterte was met by Philippine police upon his arrival in Manila from Hong Kong. A warrant from the ICC had already been transmitted to the government, and this time the authorities acted.
Eyewitnesses described the 79-year-old former president as frail, walking with the aid of a cane. He was escorted to an air force base and readied for transfer, despite protests from his lawyers and family who argued the arrest had no legal foundation. The rapid handling of the case signaled how determined the Marcos administration was to execute the warrant.
ICC does not have its own enforcement arm and depends entirely on member states to surrender individuals. Duterte’s arrest in Manila was one step, but his actual transfer to The Hague will ultimately depend on how far the Marcos government is willing to cooperate.
Duterte’s camp maintains that the ICC has no jurisdiction after the country’s 2019 withdrawal. Supporters frame the case as an affront to Philippine sovereignty. On the other hand, rights groups insist that mass killings cannot be shielded by political decisions and argue that justice must be pursued internationally if domestic remedies fail.
Beyond the legal battle, the case exposes the fault lines of Philippine politics.
The Marcos administration portrays its cooperation with the ICC as a commitment to international law and a clean break from Duterte’s bloody legacy. The Duterte camp frames it as betrayal, with Vice President Sara Duterte accusing Marcos of “surrendering her father to foreign powers.” Political analysts note that this confrontation highlights the deepening rift within the country’s ruling elite, while some law professors argue the hearings could reshape how future leaders weigh accountability against impunity
Moreover, the situation’s timing is significant as majority of the Duterte clans are seated in office. Meaning, this could possibly diminish the Dutertes’ influence further, especially if the ICC opts to push through with a trial.
The Duterte case is also a test for the ICC itself. The court has struggled to enforce its rulings and has been accused of being selective and ineffective. Bringing a former president to trial would be a rare high-profile success.
International reactions have been mixed. China, not a signatory to the ICC, has warned against politicizing the process, suggesting that the case reflects local rivalries more than international justice. Meanwhile, the European Union and the United States have generally expressed support for the ICC’s work, framing accountability as a cornerstone of international law. For now, The Hague awaits—and so does the reckoning for the Philippines’ war on drugs.