Former Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte, once a fierce and polarizing figure in Southeast Asian politics, now finds himself at the center of an unprecedented international legal battle. The 80-year-old ex-leader faces three counts of crimes against humanity before the International Criminal Court (ICC), a case whose ripples are being felt from Manila to The Hague and beyond. The charges, made public on Monday, September 22, 2025, stem from Duterte’s notorious anti-drug campaign—a crackdown that, according to ICC prosecutors and human rights activists, left thousands dead, many without trial.
The ICC’s charge sheet, signed by deputy prosecutor Mame Mandiaye Niang and dated July 2025, details Duterte’s alleged criminal responsibility as an "indirect co-perpetrator" in dozens of murders. The court asserts that these killings were carried out by police and, at times, non-state actors such as hitmen. The first count accuses Duterte of involvement in 19 murders in Davao City between 2013 and 2016, when he was still mayor. The second and third counts concern his presidency from 2016 to 2022, focusing on the murders of 14 so-called "high-value targets" and the murder or attempted murder of 45 people during village clearance operations.
According to BBC, prosecutors allege that Duterte and his co-perpetrators "shared a common plan or agreement to 'neutralise' alleged criminals in the Philippines (including those perceived or alleged to be associated with drug use, sale or production) through violent crimes including murder." The campaign, unapologetically championed by Duterte as a means to rid the country of street crime, resulted in more than 6,000 deaths by official count, though activists claim the true number could reach into the tens of thousands.
Duterte’s journey to The Hague has been as dramatic as his presidency. After the ICC issued an arrest warrant on March 7, 2025, Duterte was taken into custody in Manila just days later and swiftly flown to the Netherlands. He has been held at the ICC’s detention facility since March, marking him as the first Asian former head of state to be indicted—and the first suspect in over three years to be transported to the court’s headquarters.
Yet, the legal proceedings have been anything but straightforward. Duterte’s lawyer, Nicholas Kaufman, has argued that the former president is unfit for trial, citing "cognitive impairment in multiple domains." This claim led the ICC to indefinitely postpone the confirmation of charges hearing, originally scheduled for September 23, 2025. The defense has also challenged the court’s jurisdiction, sought the disqualification of two judges and the chief ICC prosecutor over alleged conflicts of interest, and requested Duterte’s interim release. Most of these motions remain pending or have been denied.
Meanwhile, the prosecution has been busy. As reported by Reuters, the ICC’s deputy prosecutor submitted 12 batches of evidence in July, aiming to demonstrate Duterte’s direct and indirect involvement in the murders. The pre-trial phase began with Duterte’s initial appearance on March 14, 2025, where his identity was confirmed and the charges explained.
The legal complexities are compounded by questions over the ICC’s jurisdiction. The Philippines joined the ICC in August 2011 under then-president Joseph Estrada, becoming the 117th member state. But in March 2019, Duterte’s administration announced the country’s withdrawal from the Rome Statute, just one month after the ICC opened a preliminary examination into alleged crimes against humanity during the drug war. Duterte’s supporters argue that this withdrawal nullifies the court’s authority over him and have labeled his arrest as illegal.
However, legal experts and the ICC itself have pushed back. Political Science Professor Ricardo Sunga III explained, “The Duterte administration is laboring under the misconception that the withdrawal means they do not have to cooperate.” Article 127 of the Rome Statute, as cited in The Philippine Star, clarifies that the ICC retains jurisdiction over crimes committed while a country was still a member—even after withdrawal. Both the ICC and the Philippine Supreme Court have affirmed this interpretation.
Further complicating matters is the claim that Duterte should be tried domestically, since the Philippine justice system is, in theory, operational. Article 17 of the Rome Statute makes a case inadmissible if it is already being investigated or prosecuted by the state—unless the state is unwilling or unable to genuinely carry out the proceedings. In 2021, the Duterte administration submitted documents to the ICC in an attempt to halt the investigation, but the court found these insufficient and resumed its probe in 2023.
Duterte’s arrest and surrender to the ICC have also sparked a coordinated disinformation campaign on social media, with claims that his detention is unlawful and politically motivated. His supporters allege that current Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., who has publicly fallen out with the Duterte family, is using the ICC as a political tool. According to BBC, Duterte’s backers maintain that the former president’s health and the circumstances of his arrest should lead to his release.
Despite these allegations, the Marcos administration did cooperate with ICC procedures during Duterte’s arrest. The Department of Justice Prosecutor General acted as the "competent judicial authority" to ensure Duterte was informed of his rights and the charges against him, a process affirmed by the ICC.
Even as he sits in detention, Duterte’s political influence lingers. In a twist that could only happen in the Philippines, he was re-elected mayor of Davao in May 2025—despite being in prison. His son, Sebastian Duterte, has continued as acting mayor, maintaining the family’s grip on local power.
The case has become a lightning rod for debate in the Philippines. Human rights advocates see the ICC proceedings as a long-overdue step toward justice for the thousands of victims of Duterte’s war on drugs. Victims’ lawyer Atty. Kristina Conti described the defense’s health-based delay as a “desperate” and “calculated ploy,” arguing that Duterte could waive his right to be present and allow his lawyer to represent him. On the other hand, Duterte’s loyalists decry the international court’s involvement as an affront to Philippine sovereignty and an example of foreign interference in domestic affairs.
For now, the future of the case remains uncertain. The ICC’s lack of arrest powers without the cooperation of member states means that international justice often moves slowly—if at all. The confirmation of charges hearing has been postponed indefinitely, and Duterte’s legal team continues to contest every step of the process. Meanwhile, the victims and their families, as well as observers around the world, wait to see whether the former president will ever stand trial—or if the pursuit of accountability will be derailed by legal maneuvers and political intrigue.
In a nation where the line between politics and justice is often blurred, the ICC’s case against Rodrigo Duterte stands as a test of international law, national sovereignty, and the enduring quest for truth.