Five months have passed since the International Criminal Court (ICC) arrested former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte on charges of crimes against humanity, but the reverberations from that momentous event continue to shake the country’s political, legal, and social landscape. As the ICC’s investigation presses on, families of drug war victims, high-profile defense teams, and political figures find themselves enmeshed in a struggle for justice, accountability, and influence that seems far from resolution.
For mothers like Dahlia Cuartero and Nanette Castillo, the ICC’s actions have offered a glimmer of hope after years of pain and frustration. According to Global Press Journal, Cuartero’s son, Jesus “Daboy” Cuartero, was killed in 2019 during a police operation in Bulacan, one of up to 30,000 deaths attributed to Duterte’s brutal anti-drug campaign between 2016 and 2022. “My son was not a drug pusher,” Cuartero said, her grief still palpable as she recalled the night her son was taken from her in what she believes was a case of mistaken identity. There were no witnesses, no police investigation, and for years, no hope of justice.
Castillo’s story is heartbreakingly similar. Her son, Aldrin, was shot five times during a 2017 operation in Tondo, Manila. “I knew my son was not like that,” she told Global Press Journal, referencing Duterte’s infamous call for citizens to kill drug addicts themselves. Both mothers are now part of Rise Up for Life and for Rights, an organization that advocates for the families of drug war victims and pushes for Duterte’s accountability. Yet, their pursuit of justice has come at a cost. They face online harassment, surveillance, and what human rights group Karapatan describes as “psychological war operations” and red-tagging—systematic campaigns to brand activists as communists and silence dissent.
The ICC’s case against Duterte, which has become a focal point for both hope and controversy, is now facing its own set of challenges. On August 7, 2025, Duterte’s lead defense lawyer, Nicholas Kaufman, filed a formal request to the ICC’s Appeals Chamber to disqualify chief Prosecutor Karim Khan, citing an alleged conflict of interest. According to Philippine Daily Inquirer, Kaufman argued that Khan failed to disclose his previous role as private counsel for drug war victims before assuming the top prosecutorial post—an omission Kaufman claims violates Rule 34 (1) of the ICC’s Rules and Procedures. That rule stipulates that prior involvement in related legal proceedings could undermine the impartiality required of prosecutors and judges.
“Mr. Khan abused the criminal process to push forward an investigation in which he had an undeclared personal interest, or at the very least an undeclared personal obligation from which he had not sought to release himself,” Kaufman told the three-judge Appeals Chamber. He further alleged that Khan “relied on information obtained while defending the independent interests of the victims to support actions falling under an entirely separate mandate—one that also carries the obligation to disclose exculpatory evidence.” Kaufman’s accusations go to the heart of the ICC’s integrity, suggesting that the chief prosecutor’s dual roles have led to a “blatant conflict of interest.”
The timing of this motion is no coincidence. Khan has been on voluntary leave since May 16, 2025, pending an investigation into unrelated allegations of sexual misconduct in the workplace. The Duterte defense team has seized on this, arguing that Khan’s leave “rebuts the presumption to which he would otherwise be entitled; namely, that he is of ‘high moral’ character and that his notifications should be taken as gospel.” The defense’s strategy appears to be two-pronged: challenge the prosecutor’s credibility while simultaneously seeking delays in the legal process.
Indeed, this latest maneuver follows a series of procedural challenges by Duterte’s lawyers. On July 18, Kaufman requested that the ICC’s Pre-Trial Chamber I defer its decision on jurisdictional issues, citing delays in access to crucial information. The Chamber agreed, postponing its ruling to allow the defense more time to gather evidence. The confirmation of charges hearing, a critical step that could determine whether Duterte faces a full trial, is now set for September 23, 2025. Yet, the defense has hinted at fresh information from an undisclosed professional that could further complicate or delay proceedings.
While the legal battle unfolds in The Hague, its effects are being felt in the Philippines’ political arena. According to Politiko and Abante-Bilyonaryo, the ICC’s arrest of Duterte has cast a long shadow over the ambitions of current and aspiring politicians. Boying Remulla, a prominent contender for the role of Ombudsman, has reportedly seen his prospects dim in the wake of Duterte’s arrest. The intertwined nature of Philippine politics and the ongoing ICC case is hard to ignore, with media conglomerates like the ABANTE-BILYONARYO GROUP and Politiko providing wall-to-wall coverage and analysis that reflects both public fascination and deep divisions.
For Duterte’s loyalists, the ICC’s actions are viewed as foreign interference and an affront to national sovereignty. They have mounted vigorous campaigns online and in the streets to defend the former president, often resorting to red-tagging and other tactics to discredit critics and intimidate families of victims. Karapatan, the human rights group, describes these efforts as “well funded and systematic, with a clear political agenda.”
Yet, for many ordinary Filipinos, especially those who lost loved ones in the drug war, the ICC’s intervention has provided a rare sense of validation. As Castillo poignantly put it, “Mothers of drug war victims share one story, and together, our voice for justice becomes stronger.” Their stories have resonated beyond their communities, drawing attention from international media and human rights organizations, and putting pressure on the Philippine government to reckon with the legacy of Duterte’s presidency.
Still, the road ahead is uncertain. The ICC’s process is notoriously slow and complex, and the defense’s latest moves could delay justice for months or even years. Meanwhile, the political climate in the Philippines remains volatile, with Duterte’s allies and critics locked in a battle for the country’s future direction. As the September confirmation hearing approaches, all eyes will be on The Hague—and on the families who continue to demand answers, accountability, and, above all, justice for those lost.
In a nation still grappling with the aftermath of a bloody campaign and a president’s dramatic fall from grace, the ICC’s investigation has become more than a legal proceeding—it’s a test of truth, resilience, and the enduring power of collective memory.
