3 days ago
3
The video showed former president Rodrigo Duterte explaining legal concepts in front of plates of food, plastic water bottles, and Coca-Cola cans.
Taken at such a close angle, it could have been a video taken during his presidency by a reporter. Duterte had always welcomed interviews at close quarters, except when the reporter asked questions he didn’t like.
But this video was taken by his daughter Veronica. The scene, not a hastily arranged presidential press conference, but his hours-long wait to board a late-night plane that would fly him to The Hague, to answer for crimes against humanity during his drug war. (DOCUMENT: ICC arrest warrant against Rodrigo Duterte)
WAITING DUTERTE. Former Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte cries for due process as he is held in custody inside the Villamor Airbase after arrest by Interpol executing an ICC warrant. As I typed in his words — claims that his arrest lacked legal basis — I was transported to my years covering his presidency. Here I was again, transcribing his rants, arguments, weak claims boldly said.
But his words back then carried a weight that made my stomach churn with dread because I knew the words would have consequences.
Today, his words are that of a man who has lost control, who falls into the hole left by the immense power he used to wield. A man who thought he could mold Philippine laws into his image, now must answer to an international rules-based order. (READ: What is the International Criminal Court that prompted Duterte’s arrest?)
For any other man, this would be a humbling experience.
“Pagdating sa trial diyan, tatawagin kita sa witness stand, sabihin ko (When the trial happens, I’ll call you to the witness stand, I’ll say): ‘You are the person who arrested me. May I know the reason why?’” Duterte challenged the prosecutor general across from him. (READ: Duterte, whose drug war killed thousands, cries for due process upon arrest)
The powerful, turned powerless
I witnessed Duterte when he was at the height of power. I witnessed how he would walk into an event five hours late and still be applauded.
I saw him talk about murder in front of young Boy and Girl Scouts, and get a round of laughter from everyone.
I remember how he was allowed to say he was protecting the rights of children, in the same breath as giving his blessing for a drug raid that killed children.
I remember how he was able to address the United Nations General Assembly, after years threatening to slap and kill its rapporteurs.
I remember his spokesperson excusing his rape threats and rape jokes as “heightened bravado.” And if Duterte behaved sexist and objectifying of women, his female appointees asked other women to “have a forgiving heart.”
I remember the misogynistic congressional hearings then-senator Leila de Lima had to endure at the hands of Duterte’s House allies, before she was detained for seven years.
His allies turned a blind eye or made excuses whenever Duterte chipped at the integrity of our democratic institutions — his threats and curses against the Commission on Audit and Commission on Human Rights, the Vice President, the Supreme Court, the media.
On a personal level, I experienced being at the end of the brute force of his power. Rendered voiceless in a press conference where he ranted about a Rappler story on a military project (he silenced the microphone so my responses would not be heard). Told several times I was “not a Filipino” for being so critical in my reporting about his administration. Many Filipinos took his words as gospel truth and, no matter what I did, could not convince them otherwise.
What made it terrifying was not the violent language he used, but the knowledge that he had the entire power of the state to back him up. That power was given to him by Filipinos, who voted him into the presidency.
Like many targets, including former vice president Leni Robredo, Rappler CEO Maria Ressa, and former senator Leila de Lima, I found myself the target of a formidable troll army that operated 24/7 from different parts of the world.
He wielded a terrible power. Opposition was a shout in the dark. Most people could only watch in horror as Duterte did the unthinkable everyday, and was applauded for it. The excuse of his allies was his popularity, his approval ratings. For others, the reason was fear.
A LONG-AWAITED DAY. Relatives of victims of drug war and extrajudicial killings attend a mass in Quezon City, following the arrest of former president Rodrigo Duterte, on March 11, 2025. Today, Duterte finds himself playing a role he never expected to play: a victim.
A president so secretive of his health and hospital visits now puts his personal physician front and center and allows himself to appear weak and ailing. Government doctors declared him healthy during a check-up right after he landed from Hong Kong.
Beside him, in the room where he waited, is lawyer Salvador Medialdea, arguing and appealing to the prosecutor general. Only years ago, Medialdea was executive secretary, his words and signature able to mobilize entire government bodies to do Duterte’s bidding. The man on Duterte’s left is identified by today’s news articles as his lawyer. But not long ago, Martin Delgra was the powerful chief of the Land Transportation Office.
These two men bewailed the various deprivations Duterte has supposedly had to suffer. But when they held power, they did not lift a finger against the blatant violations of rule of law perpetrated against teenage boys, fathers, mothers, daughters, tricycle drivers, vendors, opposition leaders, journalists, and more.
The reversal of fate is the most stunning aspect of this arrest.
The choices a nation makes
I took a Cathay Pacific flight back to Manila, eager to return to my family, knowing there was a lot of work at the newsroom waiting for me.
I, too, was in Hong Kong at the same time as Duterte, though I did not know it at the time. I was there for a layover of my flight from a work trip.
Duterte, too, would take a Cathay Pacific flight to the same airport terminal I landed in. But he would be returning as the subject of an ICC arrest warrant, the first former Asian head of state to be summoned to answer for crimes against humanity.
But the true horror of Duterte’s violations is not that he committed them, but that most Filipinos allowed them to happen. Even now, Duterte is rallying his support base around the idea that he waged his drug war for the preservation of the country.
It took a process in an international court to arrest Duterte. Investigations in the House and Senate came late in the day, and only after the crumbling of a political alliance that for quite some time, protected Duterte.
As we await Duterte’s ICC trial, Filipinos have to come to terms with the Duterte presidency enabled by our choices, and what choices have to be made to ensure those offenses never happen again.
A leader, no matter how charismatic, must never be allowed to exploit our differences, tap into our fears and insecurities as a nation, benefit from forgiving natures in order to dismantle our democratic processes and commit the mass murder of our citizens.
It’s a trial of our consciences that must also begin now. – Rappler.com
