The International Criminal Court (ICC) has progressed to the next stage of its much anticipated case against former Philippine president Rodrigo Roa Duterte for his War on Drugs. Through the end of February 2026, the ICC held the confirmation of charges hearing, where theProsecution, the Victim’s Counsel, and the Defence presented evidence to the Pre-Trial Chamber to determine if there is sufficient evidence for the ICC to bring the case to a formal trial.
Duterte is being charged with three counts of crimes against humanity committed during his brutal drug crackdown. When Duterte’s term ended in 2022, human rights advocates and the ICC Prosecutor estimated that around 30,000 people had been murdered in extrajudicial killings.
The prosecution’s arguments
Deputy Prosecutor Mame Mandiaye Niang began by stressing the importance of the hearing, calling it a “reminder that those in power are not above the law”. The Prosecution further described how the “Davao Death Squad”, first deployed during Duterte’s time as mayor of Davao, later served as a blueprint for a broader nationwide policy during his presidency. This so-called “Davao Model,” they argued, amounted to a systematic attack on the civilian population of the Philippines.
The Prosecution outlined a “common plan” among members of Duterte’s administration and other indirect co-perpetrators to neutralise “perceived” and “alleged” drug criminals. Prosecutor Edward Jeremy concentrated on the policy language and specifically the term “neutralise,” which he argued functioned as a directive to kill. According to Jeremy, people publicly accused by Duterte of being drug personalities were recorded as “neutralised” not when they were arrested, but on the date of their death.
Across their presentations, the Prosecution repeatedly cited Duterte’s own public statements as evidence of incited violence against people who use drugs. In a speech on the 20th of September 2016 addressed to Philippine law enforcement, Duterte endorsed murder and promised impunity by stating, “If he pulls a gun, kill him. If he does not pull anything, kill him too […] For as long as I am the president […] no military man or policeman will go to prison”.
While speaking about mayor Rolando Espinosa, who Duterte accused of being involved in drug trading, Duterte bragged, “I had him tracked down, shot on sight. Like a dog. That’s how I really think of you […] you’re like dogs”. Espinosa was later murdered in his prison cell after surrendering. In a speech on the 30th of June 2026 addressed to civilians, Duterte encouraged vigilante killings by declaring “If someone’s child is the addict, you be the one to kill.”
The victim’s counsel
Referring to the ICC proceedings, Filipino lawyer Joel Butuyan, who is representing the victims and their families, stressed that “there is absolutely no other recourse for the victims,” arguing that the erasure of evidence has made domestic justice impossible. He urged the Chamber to confirm the charges, warning that failure to do so would allow the “virus of impunity” to continue spreading in the Philippines. For Butuyan, establishing the truth through a confirmation of charges is essential to preventing further violence and impunity.
Paolina Massida, also representing the victims, argued that the drug war was “less about combating the drug trade itself and more about policing poverty and social inequality.” She highlighted that structural inequalities shape drug use in underprivileged communities, including long-term stress caused by poverty and limited access to formal employment. Many victims had little or no criminal record yet were treated as “expendable” members of society, targeted by police who could extort them financially or sexually without consequence.
Several witnesses, she explained, corroborated the Prosecution’s account of a systematic attack, describing masked perpetrators who operated without warrants and planted drugs or weapons after killing civilians. For victims’ families, Massida said, confirming the charges represents a “recognition that their loved ones mattered […] an acknowledgement that what happened to them was wrong […] a message that they have not been forgotten.”
Gilbert Andres, speaking for the Legal Representatives of the Victims, argued that “Mr. Duterte’s campaign targeted their humanity,” not only through the killings themselves but through public rhetoric that dehumanised, denial of the judicial process, and the inhumane methods of murder. Surviving family members, he explained, have faced stigma and isolation because of their association with people who use drugs, often forcing them to leave what had once been their “close-knit” communities. Many families were pushed deeper into poverty as a result.
The defence’s arguments
Nicholas Kaufman, lead counsel of the Defence, portrayed Duterte as a “man of the people”, who was simply tough on crime. According to the Defence, the often inflammatory language in Duterte’s speeches amounted to political hyperbole rather than evidence of “lethal intent.”
Kaufman repeatedly argued that the Prosecution had failed to establish a “causal link” between Duterte’s rhetoric and any specific killing. He reminded the Chamber that the burden of proof lies with the Prosecution, which he accused of relying on sensationalised media coverage, “spicy gossip,” and conspiracy theories about a coordinated plan among indirect co-perpetrators. Pointing to several speeches in which Duterte instructed police to “only kill if your life is in danger,” Kaufman maintained that any violent interpretation by direct perpetrators could not be attributed to Duterte himself.
Kaufman attempted to minimize the scale of the violence by comparing the number of deaths to the far larger number of arrests made during the campaign and compared these deaths to those during the current Marcos administration, questioning why similar accountability efforts had not followed. Several times Kaufman would leverage such political sentiments in the Philippines that the international community had overstepped its jurisdiction.
Beyond the courtroom
Despite the defense’s efforts, the Prosecution is confident that the case will go to trial, and so are the victim’s legal representatives, who were receiving more applications by victims to participate in the trial before the hearings had even ended.
Still, the confirmation of charges hearing is only one step in a long battle of discourse in the Philippines and the ICC trial alone is unlikely to convince Duterte supporters that crimes against humanity were committed. After all, the Defence itself does not deny the violence and crimes against civilian population, but argues that it cannot be linked to a policy, a common plan and the criminal intent by the president himself. This raises the issue that the murders themselves are secondary to Duterte supporters, because of whom they affect. Duterte supporters are not dismissive of the hearings because they deny the violence, but simply because they deny the legitimacy of the ICC in convicting Duterte.
In an era marked by distrust of institutions and the spread of misinformation, it is increasingly important that narratives grounded in harm reduction and compassion prevail. Such a shift begins with recognising the humanity of marginalised communities rather than scapegoating them for broader social problems.
This case is not just about accountability for Duterte or any single political figure. In the Philippines, we must reconcile how suffering in impoverished communities has always been normalised and ignored. Reparations for the War on Drugs begin in the courtroom, but for true and lasting peace the stigma against people who use drugs must change.
As in the broader global context of drug wars, removing one figure at the top rarely ends the cycle and another is always ready to take their place.
