In the Philippines, the arrest and ongoing detention of former President Rodrigo Duterte by the International Criminal Court (ICC) have cast a long shadow across the nation, stirring deep divisions and reigniting debates over justice, accountability, and national unity. As of December 6, 2025, Duterte remains under ICC custody, following his arrest on March 11, 2025, a move supported by both Philippine authorities and Interpol. The ICC’s recent decision to deny Duterte’s appeal for interim release has only heightened tensions, with the court labeling the former president a high-risk individual and rejecting all three arguments put forth by his defense team. These included claims that the Pre-Trial Chamber misapplied Article 58(1)(b) of the Rome Statute, failed to consider guarantees from a third country willing to host Duterte, and neglected humanitarian grounds in its assessment.
For many Filipinos, the ICC case is not just a matter of international law or sovereignty. It’s personal. Families ravaged by the illegal drug trade had once seen Duterte as a champion—a leader who promised protection from the scourge of narcotics, even as his methods drew fierce criticism at home and abroad. According to the Dangerous Drugs Board (DDB), 2023 saw a staggering 5,546 admissions to drug treatment and rehabilitation centers, a 43% increase from the previous year. Of these, 4,425 were new cases, a sobering testament to the scale of the crisis and the number of families still grappling with addiction’s fallout.
Yet, the campaign against drugs has left its own trail of heartbreak. Government figures acknowledge over 6,000 deaths in official police operations during Duterte’s presidency, while independent watchdogs like the Dahas Project documented 3,017 drug-related killings in just the first three and a half years of his administration. These numbers represent more than statistics—they are the stories of parents who’ve buried children, children who’ve lost parents, and entire barangays scarred by violence and mistrust.
Amid this backdrop, the ICC proceedings have become a lightning rod for political and social discord. For some, Duterte’s prosecution is a long-awaited reckoning for the abuses of the drug war. For others, it’s a painful attack on a leader they believed was doing what was necessary to protect the nation. As Mindanews commentary pointed out, "When we acknowledge only one set of victims, we deny the suffering of the other." This selective empathy, the piece argues, only serves to deepen divisions and allows opportunistic leaders to exploit collective grief for political gain.
The call for unity—and for a broader, more inclusive dialogue—has never been more urgent. Jules L. Benitez, a community and humanitarian development consultant in Mindanao, once floated the idea of bringing together families devastated by drugs and those devastated by the drug war. The vision, he says, was to help both sides realize they are victims of the same broken system. "Nobody bought that idea then," Benitez admits, "but I believe it remains essential today." Mindanao, he notes, has a history of bridging divides—between Moro and Christian, indigenous and settler. Why not, he asks, between the two sets of victims at the heart of this national crisis?
The ICC case’s political reverberations have been felt at the highest levels. Vice President Sara Duterte, the former president’s daughter, has described Christmas 2025 as a "sad" time for the nation, citing not only her father’s detention but also ongoing corruption scandals and abuse in government, according to ABS-CBN. She previously claimed that a third country was willing to host her father during an interim release—a proposal ultimately dismissed by the ICC.
Within the Senate, the drama has taken on a personal dimension. Senator Bato dela Rosa, Duterte’s former national police chief and a staunch ally, has vocally advocated for the ex-president’s interim release. Dela Rosa, who has referred to Duterte as his "second father," has been notably absent from Senate sessions for nearly three weeks, following reports of an ICC arrest warrant against him. Senate President Tito Sotto confirmed his prolonged absence, while Senate Minority Leader Alan Peter Cayetano stepped in to defend him amid the controversy.
Former Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno has not shied away from weighing in. In an interview with Karen Davila, Sereno suggested that if Senator dela Rosa truly loves Duterte, he should "just accept all the responsibility onto himself." She elaborated, "He can be a witness for, if he is credible and his explanation is good, the president, the former president will be free. If he loves the president so much, he should just accept all the responsibility onto himself." Sereno further questioned whether dela Rosa’s actions had led to the right outcome, pointing out that the drug problem persists despite the aggressive campaign—a view that underscores the complexities of both accountability and efficacy in the war on drugs.
Meanwhile, Duterte’s family has responded to the ICC’s decisions with a measure of composure. They "accept the decision of the ICC on the interim release plea of the former President 'with peaceful hearts'," even as they hold out hope for a possible future appeal after the release of Duterte’s medical reports. The ICC has ordered Duterte to undergo medical examinations following his lawyer’s claim that he is "not fit to stand trial." The defense may seek another interim release based on these findings.
At its core, the ongoing ICC proceedings and the heated national discourse are about more than one man or one administration. They reflect a nation’s struggle to reconcile two painful truths: that illegal drugs have destroyed lives and communities, and that the methods used to combat them have also inflicted deep wounds. As Mindanews eloquently put it, "Healing begins when we recognize both wounds. Justice must be pursued for those unlawfully killed, and compassion must be extended to those trapped in addiction. Accountability must be demanded of institutions, while support must be given to communities rebuilding from devastation."
For ordinary Filipinos, the path forward lies not in the hands of politicians or foreign courts alone, but in a collective commitment to empathy, balance, and unity. The ICC case will eventually run its course, and political maneuvering will continue—especially with the 2028 national elections looming. But the real test, as Benitez and others suggest, is whether the nation can summon the courage to honor both sets of victims and forge a future where no family has to suffer again from either drugs or violence. Only then, perhaps, can the Philippines begin to heal and confront the deeper issues of corruption and division that have long plagued its society.
