Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla is facing mounting pressure as he seeks the country’s top anti-corruption post while grappling with unresolved legal cases stemming from the controversial handover of former President Rodrigo Duterte to the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague. The high-stakes saga, which has gripped the Philippines’ political landscape, now intertwines legal maneuvering, personal appeals, and the health and fate of the nation’s former leader.
Remulla, one of 17 aspirants vying to become the next Ombudsman, announced on September 2, 2025, that he will ask the Office of the Ombudsman to immediately resolve the administrative and criminal complaints filed against him. These cases are directly tied to his role in facilitating Duterte’s transfer to the ICC, where the ex-president is detained on charges of crimes against humanity related to his bloody anti-drug campaign. According to Inquirer.net, Remulla told reporters after his interview with the Judicial and Bar Council (JBC), "[The case] is still pending. I will be filing a motion to resolve as soon as possible."
The urgency is palpable: Remulla must secure an official clearance from the Ombudsman before the JBC’s final deliberations. Without it, he will be excluded from the shortlist of candidates to be submitted to President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. for appointment. As Supreme Court spokesperson Atty. Camille Ting explained, "Once the case is dismissed, the Ombudsman will be able to issue the clearance." Failure to obtain this document would dash Remulla’s hopes of ascending to one of the most powerful oversight roles in the Philippine government.
The legal quagmire began months earlier. On May 2, 2025, Senator Imee Marcos formally called on the Ombudsman to investigate Remulla, his brother Jonvic Remulla (the Interior and Local Government Secretary), and three others following a Senate probe into the legality of Duterte’s arrest and transfer. Within days, the Ombudsman ordered the Remulla brothers, then Philippine National Police Chief Gen. Rommel Marbil, then PNP Criminal Investigation and Detection Group Chief (now PNP Chief) Nicolas Torre III, and Special Envoy for Transnational Crimes Markus Lacanilao to submit counter-affidavits. The allegations: graft, usurpation of authority, grave misconduct, and conduct prejudicial to the best interest of the service.
All this unfolds against the backdrop of a ticking constitutional clock. The 1987 Philippine Constitution mandates that the President has 90 days from the vacancy to appoint a new Ombudsman. The post has been empty since Samuel Martires’ term ended on July 27, 2025, and the search for his successor is now entangled with the fate of Remulla and, by extension, Duterte himself.
Meanwhile, the drama surrounding Duterte’s detention in The Hague has taken a deeply personal turn. On September 1, 2025, Senator Ronald "Bato" Dela Rosa—once the chief enforcer of Duterte’s notorious war on drugs—shared a poignant dream on social media. "Last night I had a dream: Mayor Rody was granted house arrest. We had a tearful reunion. We hugged each other & he whispered to me; ‘Ronald, I’m okey now.’… Lord, pls make my dream come true," Dela Rosa wrote in a Facebook post, revealing the emotional toll the ordeal has taken on Duterte’s staunchest allies.
Dela Rosa, along with Senators Robin Padilla and Bong Go, has not confined his advocacy to dreams and social media. The trio filed a formal Senate resolution urging the Philippine government to appeal for Duterte’s interim release—specifically, for house arrest at a residence in The Hague. Their rationale centers on Duterte’s advanced age (he turned 80 this year) and declining health, which they argue make continued incarceration a serious threat to his well-being. The senators’ resolution underscores the Philippines’ right to seek more compassionate conditions for its former head of state, even after the country’s withdrawal from the ICC.
The charges against Duterte stem from his administration’s anti-drug campaign, which, according to government records, left over 6,000 dead. Human rights groups, however, contend the real toll could be as high as 30,000, factoring in unreported killings—an allegation that has kept the Philippines in the international spotlight and fueled ongoing debate at home. Dela Rosa, who was at the helm of the Philippine National Police during the campaign’s most brutal years, remains a vocal defender of Duterte and the policies they carried out together.
Adding to the sense of urgency and pathos, Vice President Sara Duterte has publicly described her father’s deteriorating condition in detention. She told reporters that the former president has become "skin and bones" after significant weight loss, painting a stark picture of the toll incarceration has taken on the once-formidable leader.
The legal and political implications of the case are profound. For Remulla, the outcome of the Ombudsman’s investigation could determine not only his personal future but also the direction of the country’s anti-corruption efforts. If cleared, he could ascend to the Ombudsman’s office, wielding significant influence over future investigations into official misconduct. If not, he joins a growing list of officials sidelined by legal entanglements and political intrigue.
For Duterte, the stakes are existential. His supporters argue that the former president, who led the country with an iron fist, deserves compassion in his twilight years—especially given his failing health. Critics, however, maintain that accountability for alleged crimes against humanity must not be set aside for convenience or sentiment. The ICC’s continued prosecution, despite the Philippines’ withdrawal from its jurisdiction, keeps the case alive on the international stage and ensures that the debate over justice, sovereignty, and human rights remains front and center.
As for the broader political establishment, the affair has exposed deep divisions. Some lawmakers and officials, like Dela Rosa, Padilla, and Go, are determined to secure more humane treatment for Duterte, framing their efforts as a matter of national dignity and compassion. Others, including those who pushed for the Ombudsman’s investigation, insist that the rule of law and proper procedure must prevail, no matter how high the office or how storied the individual.
With the clock ticking on both the Ombudsman appointment and Duterte’s health, all eyes are on the Office of the Ombudsman and the Judicial and Bar Council. Will Remulla’s motion to resolve his case succeed in time to keep his candidacy alive? Will the Senate’s appeal for house arrest sway international authorities or the ICC? And what precedent will these intertwined cases set for future leaders caught between the demands of justice and the pull of political loyalty?
In a nation long accustomed to political drama and legal battles, the fate of Remulla and Duterte now stands as a test of both institutional resilience and the enduring complexities of power, accountability, and compassion.