A Reckoning for Duterte: The ICC Arrest and the Rule of Law
The arrest of former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte under the authority of the International Criminal Court (ICC) is a moment that will define not only his legacy but also the Philippines' standing in the global order. The former strongman, whose brutal war on drugs left thousands dead, now finds himself answering to a higher tribunal—one that transcends national politics and asserts the primacy of human rights and the rule of law.
Duterte’s tenure was marked by iron-fisted governance, often lauded by supporters as the necessary resolve to combat the ills of crime and narcotics. Yet, his methods—extrajudicial killings, police operations steeped in blood, and a culture of impunity—have drawn the scrutiny of international watchdogs. The ICC, having investigated these alleged crimes against humanity, has now acted, placing Duterte at the center of a legal battle with global implications. This arrest signals an unprecedented moment in Philippine history, testing the nation’s commitment to justice and its role within the framework of international law.
A Question of Sovereignty or Justice?
The former president and his legal allies argue that the Philippines’ withdrawal from the ICC in 2019 nullifies the court’s jurisdiction over him. This raises a critical question—can a state’s past actions be erased simply because it chooses to step away from an international agreement? The answer, according to legal scholars, is no. The ICC retains the right to investigate and prosecute crimes committed while the Philippines was still a member. If Duterte’s administration was confident in the legality of its anti-drug campaign, why seek to escape scrutiny rather than confront it head-on?
International law operates on the principle that crimes against humanity transcend national borders and cannot be shielded by domestic legal maneuvers. This principle ensures that those who wield power do not do so without consequence. Duterte’s arrest places the Philippines at the heart of this ongoing global conversation about accountability and the extent to which nations must answer for crimes committed under their jurisdiction, even if they later reject international oversight. If the Philippines chooses to resist the ICC, it risks isolating itself from the international community and potentially facing diplomatic and economic consequences.
The Dangers of Strongman Politics
Duterte’s arrest is a warning to leaders who believe they can wield power unchecked. His presidency, like many strongman regimes throughout history, thrived on fear and populist rhetoric. But history has shown time and again that unchecked power eventually faces its day of reckoning. From the trials of Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg to the fall of military juntas in Latin America, the world has seen that absolute authority often begets absolute accountability.
For years, Duterte built an image of a leader unafraid to challenge norms, pushing an aggressive stance against crime, the media, and international organizations. Yet, as seen with figures such as Chile’s Augusto Pinochet or Serbia’s Slobodan Milošević, the illusion of invincibility often fades once the mechanisms of justice begin their work. Duterte’s arrest is not just about punishing one leader; it is about reaffirming that no individual is beyond the reach of the law. His protestations of illegal detention reflect his long-standing defiance of legal norms. The very institutions he dismissed—courts, investigative bodies, and human rights organizations—are now the same ones demanding justice. His argument that he was arrested without legal basis is strikingly ironic, considering the countless individuals subjected to summary executions under his watch, deprived of any due process.
It is not surprising that his supporters now cry “rule of law” and “human rights,” when once they treated the real victims of his war on drugs with scorn. If one may ask, with the sudden invocation of these principles, are they not supposed to be as blunt as Duterte’s gutter interpretation of law—that “the law is harsh”? In fact, the bystanders of society have waited for a provocation just to say, “justice has been served.” But the Philippines is no Cidade de Deus—this is not a spectacle of violence but an effort to restore justice and accountability in a nation long accustomed to impunity.
Perhaps, people should realize that even those who once supported Duterte knew that he treated laws as mere statements, weapons of convenience rather than pillars of justice. They believed that laws should emphasize punishment over rehabilitation, that laws could be distorted to create fear rather than hope. During his administration, those who were concerned critically supported Duterte for his promises of providing welfare and upholding sovereignty, until they saw the impossibility of emphasizing justice and adherence to the rule of law—let alone the use of law to punish. Yes, Dura Lex Sed Lex, but the focus was on Dura rather than the Lex.
Perhaps, people should also recognize that, for those who saw him critically, Duterte’s worldview reduced ideas to mere words—moot and academic. Nationalism? Sovereignty? For him and his supporters, these were nothing more than rhetorical flourishes, fillers in speeches rather than commitments to action. Like many leaders who invoke these grand ideals to justify their rule, Duterte treated them as disposable, wielding them only when politically expedient.
A Nation Divided
The Philippines now finds itself at a crossroads. There are those who view Duterte’s arrest as an affront to national sovereignty, a foreign body dictating the fate of a former leader. On the other hand, there are those who see this as an overdue reckoning, a sign that justice, even delayed, can still be served. The country remains deeply polarized between those who admire Duterte’s uncompromising style and those who condemn the abuses carried out under his administration.
The government’s assurance that Duterte is in good health and being treated fairly is notable but does little to quell the larger debate. Will the Philippines fully cooperate with international law, or will domestic political pressure push for defiance? If the latter occurs, it risks not only damaging the country’s reputation but also eroding trust in legal institutions that should uphold justice above all else. Furthermore, Duterte’s arrest raises questions about the broader political climate in the Philippines. Will this event be used as a rallying cry for his supporters, potentially destabilizing an already fragile democratic landscape? Or will it serve as a precedent, reinforcing the idea that no leader is above the law?
The Arc of Justice
In the past, the world watched as powerful figures—whether in politics, military, or business—were increasingly held accountable for their actions. The global order was shifting towards principles of justice and human rights, marking a new era of international accountability. Duterte’s arrest fits within this broader historical movement, where autocrats and strongmen can no longer expect to act without consequence. The lesson is clear: regimes built on fear and repression may enjoy temporary dominance, but history eventually demands a reckoning.
The case against Duterte is not merely about one man but about the integrity of international justice. If the ICC’s mandate is to mean anything, it must stand firm against those who abuse power. The Philippines, a nation with a proud history of democracy and people-powered movements, must decide whether it upholds the rule of law or succumbs to the siren song of authoritarianism. If it chooses justice, it sends a powerful message—that no leader, no matter how popular or powerful, is immune from accountability. If it chooses defiance, it risks being seen as a nation unwilling to uphold the very principles it has long fought to defend. History will remember its choice.