When Campaign Rhetoric Meets Courtroom Light: The Duterte Years Revisited

Morning arrives softly along Manila Bay, the light spreading across the water as fishing boats return with modest hauls. Jeepneys begin their routes, vendors lift metal shutters, and the city hums with the familiar rhythm of commerce and conversation. Yet beneath the ordinary cadence of traffic and tide, the memory of other nights lingers—nights punctured by sirens, by knocks at doors, by the crack of gunfire in narrow alleys.

Thousands of kilometers away, in the measured stillness of The Hague, those nights are being spoken of again. At the International Criminal Court, prosecutors have argued that former Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte stood at the “very heart” of a campaign of anti-drug operations that, they allege, amounted to crimes against humanity. The proceedings mark a significant chapter in a story that began long before court filings—one rooted in campaign speeches, police operations, and the promise of swift justice against narcotics.

Duterte rose to national office in 2016 after years as mayor of Davao City, where he cultivated a reputation for uncompromising law enforcement. His presidential campaign amplified that image, pledging to eradicate illegal drugs and warning of dire consequences for those involved. Once in office, the administration launched an aggressive anti-drug campaign that reshaped neighborhoods and headlines alike.

Official police figures have placed the number of suspects killed in anti-drug operations in the thousands. Human rights organizations, however, estimate that the total death toll could be significantly higher, including killings by unidentified gunmen. Many of the victims were from urban poor communities, their deaths recorded in police reports as the result of suspects resisting arrest—accounts that critics have repeatedly questioned.

The ICC’s involvement traces back to allegations that the campaign constituted a widespread and systematic attack on civilians. Although the Philippines withdrew from the court in 2019, the tribunal has maintained that it retains jurisdiction over alleged crimes committed while the country was still a member. Prosecutors have framed Duterte as central to the policy and rhetoric that, in their view, enabled the violence.

For his part, Duterte has consistently defended the campaign as a necessary response to a grave social problem. He has denied ordering unlawful killings and has maintained that police were instructed to act only in self-defense. Supporters argue that the crackdown reduced crime and addressed fears that had long unsettled communities. Critics counter that the methods eroded due process and left families grieving without recourse.

In Manila’s dense neighborhoods, memory does not arrange itself neatly into legal arguments. It lives instead in framed photographs, in anniversaries observed quietly, in stories told over evening meals. Some recall relief at a perceived decline in street-level drug activity. Others speak of fathers, sons, and brothers who did not return home.

The ICC hearings do not carry the spectacle of street demonstrations; they unfold in the steady cadence of legal procedure—submissions filed, testimonies reviewed, jurisdiction debated. Yet their implications ripple outward. They test the reach of international justice and the willingness of institutions to revisit policies once defended as necessary expedients.

As the court considers whether the case will proceed further, the Philippines continues its daily life. A new administration governs from Malacañang Palace, balancing domestic priorities with international scrutiny. The past, however, does not recede simply because it is contested.

In the early evening, as Manila’s skyline glows against the darkening sea, the city seems suspended between memory and motion. The ICC’s deliberations will move at their own pace, guided by statutes and evidentiary standards. Whatever the eventual outcome, the hearings have already drawn the campaign back into global view, translating years of violence into the formal language of international law.

And so the story travels—from alleys once lit by flashing lights to a courtroom far away—carried not by sirens this time, but by documents, testimonies, and the enduring question of accountability in a nation still reckoning with its recent past.

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Sources Reuters BBC News Al Jazeera International Criminal Court Human Rights Watch