Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla stood before the press in Manila, his tone tinged with frustration and disbelief. The Philippine Department of Justice had just been ordered by the Office of the Ombudsman to submit counter-affidavits regarding the controversial handover of former President Rodrigo Duterte to the International Criminal Court (ICC). For Remulla and four other high-ranking officials, the speed and basis of the investigation raised more questions than answers.
“Why the haste?” Remulla asked pointedly, as reported by the Philippine Daily Inquirer. He was referring to the Ombudsman’s decision to act on what he described as a “chairman’s report” rather than a formal committee report. “It’s just that, the complaint itself felt a bit weird to me because it wasn’t even a committee report. Why not wait for the committee report?” he continued. The distinction is more than bureaucratic nitpicking: a chairman’s report is a summary from one leader, while a committee report represents the full findings and recommendations of an entire investigative body.
The controversy began on May 2, 2025, when Senator Imee Marcos formally called upon the Office of the Ombudsman to probe Remulla, his brother—Interior and Local Government Secretary Jonvic Remulla—Philippine National Police Chief Gen. Rommel Marbil, PNP Criminal Investigation and Detection Group Chief Nicolas Torre III, and Special Envoy for Transnational Crimes Markus Lacanilao. The heart of the matter: whether the arrest and subsequent transfer of Duterte to the ICC broke Philippine law.
The Ombudsman wasted no time. In less than a week, all five officials received orders to submit detailed counter-affidavits. The allegations against them? Graft, usurpation of authority, grave misconduct, and conduct prejudicial to the best interest of the service. Remulla assured the public that he and his colleagues would answer every charge, insisting, “Everything happened within legal bounds. All of that was done according to the law.” But the speed of the proceedings—and the reliance on a single chairman’s perspective—left many observers and the accused alike unsettled.
Meanwhile, events in The Hague have taken on a life of their own. Former President Rodrigo Duterte now sits in ICC custody, facing charges of crimes against humanity stemming from his administration’s bloody war on drugs. The campaign, known locally as Oplan Tokhang, officially left at least 6,000 people dead, according to government statistics. Human rights groups, however, estimate the real toll could be as high as 20,000—an appalling figure that has drawn international condemnation and relentless scrutiny.
In a dramatic turn, Duterte’s defense team filed a request with the ICC for an indefinite adjournment of all legal proceedings. Their argument? Duterte is, they claim, unfit to stand trial due to severe cognitive deficiencies. His legal counsel, Nicholas Kaufman, submitted medical records asserting that Duterte is currently unable to recall events, places, and even the names of close family members or his own defense team.
The ICC’s Office of Public Counsel for Victims (OPCV) responded swiftly. In a 14-page filing dated October 8, 2025, Principal Counsel Paolina Massidda urged the court to deny Duterte’s request for an indefinite pause. “The defense seeks the indefinite adjournment of the proceedings, or, in the alternative, that a status conference be convened ‘for the purposes of litigating whether the Chamber should, if at all, exercise its discretion pursuant to Rules 113, 135(1), and 135(1) of the Rules of Procedure and Evidence,’” the filing stated, as reported by Inquirer.net.
Massidda didn’t oppose holding a status conference, which would allow all parties to discuss scheduling and procedural options. But she was adamant: “The request essentially amounts to an application for an indefinite stay of the proceedings due to the suspect’s alleged unfitness to stand trial.” She argued that the defense had not met the requirements for such an extraordinary measure. “The documents submitted by the defense do not suffice to warrant it,” her filing continued. Still, Massidda acknowledged that Duterte’s medical records raised legitimate concerns about his health and that the matter deserved further investigation.
To that end, Massidda recommended that the ICC appoint independent experts to urgently assess Duterte’s health, his ability to exercise his rights, and the likely trajectory of his condition. “The Legal Representative does not oppose the alternative relief sought. Indeed, in her view, hearing the parties and participants’ submissions with respect to specific instructions to an expert (or experts) appointed by the chamber and discussing scheduling matters at a status conference may significantly expedite the procedure, which is squarely in the interests of victims and of paramount concern to the interests of justice overall,” she wrote.
For many Filipinos, the spectacle of a former president facing international justice is both unprecedented and deeply divisive. Supporters of Duterte view the ICC proceedings as an affront to national sovereignty, arguing that Philippine courts should have exclusive jurisdiction over their own leaders. Critics, on the other hand, see the handover as a long-overdue reckoning for the thousands of lives lost during the anti-drug campaign. The political stakes are enormous, and the legal complexities only add fuel to the fire.
The ongoing probe by the Philippine Ombudsman into the actions of Remulla and other officials is equally contentious. Some political observers suggest that the investigation, initiated at the behest of a sitting senator, could be motivated by factional rivalries or a desire to score points against the current administration. Others argue that it is a necessary step to ensure transparency and accountability at the highest levels of government. Whatever the motivations, the rapid pace and unusual procedural shortcuts have left many wondering whether due process is being observed—or circumvented.
As the legal battles play out on two continents, the question of Duterte’s fitness to stand trial looms large. The ICC’s decision on whether to grant an adjournment, order a health assessment, or proceed with the case will have far-reaching implications—not just for Duterte himself, but for the broader fight against impunity and for the victims of Oplan Tokhang.
Back in Manila, Remulla and his fellow officials prepare their responses, determined to defend their actions as lawful and justified. In The Hague, lawyers and advocates for both sides await the next move from the ICC, knowing that whatever happens next will reverberate far beyond the courtroom. The search for justice—whether at home or abroad—remains as complicated and contested as ever.