On Friday, September 19, 2025, the Philippine government made headlines by deporting 91 Chinese nationals in a sweeping crackdown on Philippine offshore gaming operators (Pogos) and online fraud syndicates. According to the Presidential Anti-Organized Crime Commission (PAOCC), this move comes after months of coordinated raids targeting criminal hubs across Metro Manila, Central Luzon, Laguna, and Cebu—regions repeatedly flagged by law enforcement as hotbeds for Pogo-related crime. Of those deported, 89 individuals were linked to illegal gaming and scam operations, while two were apprehended for unauthorized mining activities. The group was placed on a Philippine Airlines flight to Shanghai, departing from Ninoy Aquino International Airport Terminal 1 at 10:40 a.m., as reported by the PAOCC.
The operation, which was carried out in collaboration with the Bureau of Immigration and the Chinese embassy in Manila, reflects a broader effort by the Philippine government to clamp down on foreign nationals involved in organized crime. The Chinese embassy played a key role in verifying identities and facilitating travel documents for the deportees, underscoring the international coordination required for such a large-scale operation.
An additional 12 Chinese nationals were scheduled for deportation but were ultimately barred from leaving due to a lack of implementation orders from the Bureau of Immigration. These individuals were returned to the custodial facility, with the PAOCC stating that they would coordinate further with the Bureau to ensure the pending deportations proceed accordingly.
PAOCC Undersecretary Gilberto DC Cruz emphasized the government's firm stance against foreign involvement in illegal activities, stating, "This is a clear message that foreign nationals who engage in illegal activities have no place in the Philippines." He further pledged that authorities would continue to dismantle criminal networks and prevent those involved from returning to the country.
This crackdown is part of a larger policy shift under President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., who recently ordered the nationwide shutdown of Pogo operations, citing national security concerns and a surge in crimes tied to the industry. The shutdown marks a significant departure from previous administrations, reflecting growing unease over the economic and social costs of the Pogo sector. The industry, once touted as a boon for government revenue and employment, has become increasingly associated with criminal syndicates, money laundering, and even violent crime.
Yet, the crackdown on Pogos and the deportation of Chinese nationals is just one facet of a broader, more complex political landscape in the Philippines—a landscape now dominated by the unfolding International Criminal Court (ICC) case against former President Rodrigo Duterte. The ICC’s investigation into Duterte’s controversial "war on drugs" has become a flashpoint in the country’s ongoing power struggle between its two most influential families: the Marcoses and the Dutertes.
On March 11, 2025, Rodrigo Duterte was arrested in Manila on an ICC warrant for his alleged role in extrajudicial killings during his anti-drug campaign. He was swiftly transferred to The Hague, where hearings were scheduled to begin on September 23, 2025. However, these proceedings have been delayed due to Duterte’s reported ill health. According to Dr Tom Smith, an Associate Professor of International Relations at the University of Portsmouth and a vocal critic of the Duterte regime, the ICC trial could take years, with no verdict expected within four years, based on the court’s historical timelines.
The ICC’s involvement has exposed deep fissures in Philippine politics. President Marcos Jr. has publicly insisted that the ICC lacks jurisdiction and that the Philippines will not cooperate with the court. Yet, he has also allowed legal processes through Interpol that led to Duterte’s custody, and later defended the transfer in the Senate. This dual approach signals a calculated political shift: while the Palace is not overtly defending the former president, it is also not fully embracing the ICC’s authority.
The deteriorating alliance between the Marcos and Duterte families is palpable. Vice-President Sara Duterte, Rodrigo Duterte’s daughter, has survived impeachment attempts and ongoing scrutiny over alleged corruption and even threats against President Marcos and others. Despite these controversies, she maintains strong trust ratings and her political camp performed well in the recent midterm elections, keeping her prospects for a 2028 presidential run alive.
For many Duterte supporters, the ICC proceedings are seen not as a quest for justice, but as foreign interference—an attempt by a Western institution to undermine a popular political clan. This narrative has gained traction amid Manila’s renewed alignment with Washington, evidenced by expanded U.S. military cooperation and joint patrols in the disputed South China Sea. Against this backdrop, the ICC trial risks being weaponized as a rallying point for nationalist grievance politics.
At the same time, the ICC process faces real limitations. As Dr Tom Smith notes, "The ICC can establish an authoritative record, give victims standing, and narrow the space for revisionism. But its limits are real and familiar: slow timelines, a thin conviction record, and dependence on states that may change their minds." There is also concern that the trial could embolden the Duterte camp, especially if it is perceived as detached from the realities of Philippine society or fails to deliver timely justice for victims.
Meanwhile, the networks that enabled the "war on drugs" remain largely intact. Figures like Senator Ronald "Bato" dela Rosa, the former police chief who helped design the campaign, continue to wield significant political influence and have been accused of shielding Duterte loyalists from accountability. Senator Bong Go, another Duterte ally, has also been named as someone who should face scrutiny for his role.
The challenge, then, is to ensure that international justice efforts are complemented by robust domestic reforms. Dr Smith argues that the remedy is not to abandon the ICC case, but to pair it with a credible domestic justice agenda. This includes protecting witnesses from harassment, vetting and suspending law enforcement officers linked to extrajudicial killings, and supporting victims through both legal and civil society channels. "If the trial feels like a remote spectacle, public confidence will collapse," he warns.
Ultimately, the fate of justice in the Philippines may hinge on the country’s willingness to confront impunity at home, rather than relying solely on international mechanisms. As the government continues its crackdown on foreign criminal syndicates and navigates the political fallout from the ICC trial, the stakes for Philippine democracy could not be higher. The coming years will test whether the country can rebuild trust in its institutions and deliver justice that is both timely and meaningful for its citizens.
