Five months ago, the political landscape in the Philippines was already turbulent, but in recent weeks, it has reached a fever pitch. Former President Rodrigo Duterte, detained by the International Criminal Court (ICC) since March 2025 on allegations of crimes against humanity stemming from his administration’s notorious war on drugs, now finds himself at the center of a legal and political maelstrom. Meanwhile, his family and allies are waging a battle not just in courtrooms, but across the digital public square, deploying a sophisticated influence campaign that leverages both human and artificial intelligence to sway public opinion and consolidate power ahead of the 2028 presidential election.
According to Philnews, Duterte’s legal team, led by British-Israeli lawyer Nicholas Kaufman, has recently filed a request to disqualify ICC prosecutor Karim Khan from the case, alleging a "grievous conflict of interest." Kaufman claims that Khan failed to disclose his prior role as a private lawyer for victims before assuming the position of ICC prosecutor, a supposed violation of Rule 34 (1) of the ICC Rules and Procedures. "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 stated. This move follows an earlier, unsuccessful attempt to disqualify two ICC judges, María del Socorro Flores Liera and Reine Adélaïde Sophie Alapini-Gansou.
While these legal maneuvers unfold in The Hague, the Duterte camp is also seeking interim release for the former president to an undisclosed country, though they have requested the ICC delay any decision until further supporting documents are provided. The drama has not been confined to legal filings; Duterte’s partner, Honeylet Avanceña, has claimed she is barred from visiting him in the ICC detention facility, adding a personal dimension to the already charged proceedings.
The intrigue doesn’t stop there. In a surprising twist, Kaufman alleged that Duterte wants his former spokesman, Harry Roque—currently an asylum seeker in The Hague with a pending Philippine arrest warrant over alleged illegal gaming operations—out of his ICC case entirely. Roque, once a prominent defender of Duterte, is now persona non grata in the former president’s legal strategy. Kaufman even recounted that a Dutch lawyer approached him, stating that Roque planned to sue the Dutch government over Duterte’s custody transfer.
As the September 23 confirmation of charges against Duterte approaches, the legal saga is only one front in a much broader campaign. According to Rappler and the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, the Duterte family and their supporters have unleashed a sprawling political influence machine. This operation—part-human, part-machine—relies on hyper-partisan influencers, troll armies, and generative AI to mass produce deepfakes, fictional supporters, and even fabricated baby photos of Duterte. The goal: shape public perception, undermine oversight, and build political capital for the next election cycle.
This information campaign kicked into high gear after the Supreme Court’s July 25, 2025, decision declaring Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment unconstitutional. Duterte supporters, who had previously lambasted the court for failing to block the ICC’s arrest of the former president, suddenly flooded Facebook with praise for the justices. Pro-Duterte pages like OPTIC Politics and influential columnists such as Rigoberto Tiglao framed the decision as a sweeping vindication, even though the ruling was strictly procedural and did not declare Sara Duterte innocent. Legal experts and constitutional scholars have criticized the ruling, warning it could make future impeachment trials more difficult, but these nuances have been drowned out by the orchestrated chorus of partisan approval.
The impeachment, initiated by the House of Representatives in February 2025, centers on allegations that Vice President Sara Duterte misused education and confidential funds amounting to hundreds of millions of pesos. Some of these payments were made to suspiciously named individuals—“Mary Grace Piattos,” “Chippy McDonald,” and “Carlos Oishi”—sparking widespread suspicion that the recipients might not even exist. Pro-Duterte influencers have dismissed these concerns, claiming the names are simply codenames for security assets, and that the Commission on Audit (COA) issued "clean and unmodified" opinions clearing the Office of the Vice President of wrongdoing.
Yet, as independent budget consultant Zyza Nadine Suzara pointed out to Rappler, COA guidelines require real names to be disclosed in sealed envelopes to state auditors—a step that was apparently skipped. In fact, the COA issued a notice of disallowance for ₱173 million and flagged another ₱164 million from Sara Duterte’s 2023 budget, clear signs of possible irregularity. "If funds were actually used for matters of national security, that’s not the mandate of the OVP," Suzara said. "The proper process is… you go to the [Department of Justice]. They pay for a safehouse [and] the informant."
Rather than address these anomalies directly, pro-Duterte accounts have employed a familiar set of tactics: dismissing or distorting financial and legal issues, deflecting blame onto the Marcos administration or Congress, and emotionally manipulating supporters by casting the Dutertes as victims of political persecution. Senator Bong Go, for example, argued that “impeachment cannot be eaten,” a sentiment echoed by social media posts urging focus on bread-and-butter issues like rice prices and flooding, rather than on the Duterte family’s legal woes.
The digital campaign has also harnessed the power of AI-generated videos and coordinated comment flooding. According to Rappler, these videos—sometimes labeled as "for entertainment purposes only"—are easily mistaken for real interviews and are amplified by prominent Duterte allies such as Senator Bato Dela Rosa and Davao City acting mayor Sebastian Duterte. Meanwhile, comment sections on mainstream media outlets are inundated with repeated talking points, often copy-pasted by networks of anonymous or semi-anonymous accounts. This creates the illusion of overwhelming public support and, through constant repetition, can make even the most dubious claims seem true.
Perhaps most striking is the campaign’s use of conspiracy theories, blaming the impeachment on a supposed alliance between the United States, communists, and the Marcos camp. Within hours of the Supreme Court’s ruling, pro-Duterte accounts unleashed a wave of identical Facebook posts framing the decision as a victory that "exposed the truth." These narratives, which draw on American-style “deep state” conspiracies, have no basis in evidence but are emotionally compelling for supporters who feel besieged by political enemies.
Through all these tactics—dismissal, distortion, distraction, and dismay—the Duterte influence machine is not just defending its embattled leaders in court. It is actively shaping the Philippine public’s understanding of truth, accountability, and democracy itself. As the 2028 election looms, the stakes couldn’t be higher: the battle for the country’s future is being waged not only in the halls of justice, but in the minds of millions of Filipinos.
While the legal proceedings against Rodrigo Duterte and the controversies surrounding Sara Duterte continue to unfold, the nation finds itself at a crossroads. The outcome will not just determine the fate of a political dynasty, but may also set the tone for how truth and power are contested in the Philippines for years to come.
