On October 6, 2025, the Philippine Senate took an extraordinary step, passing a resolution that calls on the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague to place former President Rodrigo Duterte under house arrest while he awaits trial for alleged crimes against humanity. The move, which passed with a vote of 15-3 and two abstentions, has stirred debate across the Philippines and drawn international attention to the intersection of justice, human rights, and political legacy.
According to The Manila Times, the resolution was driven by concerns for Duterte’s advancing age—he is now 80—and his deteriorating health. Reports surfaced that Duterte had suffered two falls inside his detention cell, with the most recent incident leaving him unconscious. These episodes, initially kept from his family, sparked alarm among his relatives and legal counsel. Vice President Sara Duterte, his daughter, publicly questioned why the family was not immediately informed, highlighting the emotional toll such secrecy can take. The revelation ultimately prompted the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA) to arrange a welfare visit, citing obligations under the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations. However, Sara Duterte described the visit as “police surveillance under false pretenses.”
Senate Minority Leader Alan Peter Cayetano defended the resolution, emphasizing its alignment with international human rights conventions to which the Philippines is a signatory. As quoted by The Philippine Star, Cayetano stated, “Lahat ng resolution na finile natin kasama ang kay Majority Leader (Juan Miguel ‘Migz’ Zubiri) is consistent with each and every human rights convention that the Philippines signed.” He further argued, “It is not against the tenets of human rights to allow any person, especially a former president of the country, to be under house arrest especially in the condition of President Duterte, who is 80 years old.”
Supporters of the resolution, including prominent senators with close ties to Duterte such as Christopher “Bong” Go and Robinhood Padilla, stressed that the call was not about judging Duterte’s guilt or innocence, but about ensuring humane treatment for a Filipino citizen abroad. Padilla, who has visited the ICC, described Duterte’s current cell as a “bartolina”—a dungeon-like space, cold and damp, devoid of comfort. The Senate’s plea, they insisted, was a humanitarian one, rooted in the same principles the Philippines advocates for its citizens facing legal troubles overseas.
The Senate resolution requested that a medical doctor be designated to assess Duterte’s fitness for regular detention. Should the assessment find him unfit, the senators urged the ICC to move him to a larger, more comfortable room with access to fresh air and natural light. The senators invoked not only Duterte’s frailty but also the broader principle of humane and impartial justice, echoing international humanitarian standards and the ICC’s own guidelines regarding the treatment of elderly detainees.
Not everyone in the Senate agreed. Senators Risa Hontiveros, Francis Pangilinan, and Bam Aquino voted against the measure, maintaining their party line and reflecting the ongoing divide in Philippine politics over Duterte’s controversial legacy. Senate President Sotto, meanwhile, abstained, citing his concern for how victims of the drug war—those whose lives were upended or lost during Duterte’s presidency—might view the resolution. “He said he was all for humanitarianism, but was thinking of how the relatives of the victims of the drug killings would react if he supported the resolution,” reported The Manila Times.
The legal and political context of Duterte’s detention is complex and deeply entwined with broader international developments. In November 2024, the ICC issued arrest warrants not only for Duterte but also for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Defence Minister Yoav Gallant, and several Hamas leaders, all on charges of crimes against humanity and war crimes. According to The Conversation, the ICC’s investigation into Palestine has been ongoing since March 2021, and its ability to prosecute depends heavily on the cooperation of member states in arresting and surrendering suspects. The Philippines’ decision to arrest and surrender Duterte to the ICC, for instance, was cited as an example of a state upholding its international law obligations, even as other states, such as Hungary, have balked at similar responsibilities.
The ICC’s lack of its own police force complicates matters. As The Conversation explains, the court relies on member states to enforce arrest warrants, often through Interpol Red Notices. This reliance can lead to delays and accusations of double standards, especially when high-profile figures like Netanyahu travel freely to ICC member countries without facing arrest. The Duterte case, therefore, has become a touchstone for debates about the effectiveness and impartiality of international justice mechanisms.
Meanwhile, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) is also grappling with its own high-profile case: South Africa’s suit against Israel, alleging violations of the Genocide Convention in Gaza. That case, brought in late 2023, has already seen significant delays, with Israel granted a six-month extension for its written submissions, pushing potential hearings well into 2027. The slow pace of international legal proceedings stands in stark contrast to the urgency felt by victims and advocates on all sides.
Back in the Philippines, the Senate’s resolution has prompted soul-searching about the nation’s values and its place in the international community. As columnist Francisco S. Tatad reflected in The Manila Times, “I cannot stand his invectives, yet I will defend his right to be presumed innocent until his guilt is proved, and his right to a humane treatment as an accused. I will insist on this not just because he is a Filipino, as the senators say, but first of all because he is a fellow human being created in the image and likeness of God.”
The Senate’s action has also reignited debate over the proper balance between justice for victims and humane treatment for the accused. Critics, including lawyers representing victims of Duterte’s drug war, argue that the resolution carries no legal weight and could even undermine Duterte’s petition for temporary release. Others worry about the message it sends to the international community regarding accountability for human rights abuses.
Yet for many senators, the resolution is a stand for the principle that justice must be both firm and compassionate. “This is not only for him, but it is for us as a nation. I cannot imagine what the country will do if something happens with him in the detention center at wala man lang tayong ginawa,” Cayetano emphasized, underscoring the emotional and political stakes at play.
As the ICC, the ICJ, and the Philippine government navigate the thorny terrain of international justice, the fate of Rodrigo Duterte remains a lightning rod for debate—one that tests the boundaries of law, humanity, and national identity in an increasingly interconnected world.
