ICC Proceeds with Duterte Case Hearings, Denies Key Defense Motions

In the hushed, climate-controlled silence of Courtroom I at the International Criminal Court, the seat reserved for the accused remains conspicuously vacant. There is no trace here of the coarse, bellicose volubility that once defined the presidency of Rodrigo Duterte, nor of the humidity and neon of the Manila streets where his "war on drugs" left an indelible, blood-stained mark. Instead, there is only the rhythmic shuffling of legal briefs and the steady, dispassionate cadence of international jurisprudence. The former Philippine leader, who once promised to fatten the fish of Manila Bay with the bodies of criminals, now resides in a detention facility a few miles away, his presence felt only through the contentious arguments of the lawyers who seek to either dismantle or defend his legacy. This week’s commencement of the confirmation of charges hearings marks a somber inflection point in a decade-long saga of alleged state-sponsored carnage. It is a moment that has been years in the making, a procedural bridge between the visceral trauma of the victims and the cold, deliberative machinery of global justice. As Pre-Trial Chamber I weighs the evidence, the proceedings serve as a profound stress test for the court’s ability to hold a former head of state accountable for the systematic extirpation of his own citizens. For the families of the thousands killed during Mr. Duterte’s tenure, the hearing is less a legal formality than a long-delayed recognition of their grief. The charges against Mr. Duterte, who has been in the court’s custody since his arrest in March 2025, are as grave as they are specific: three counts of crimes against humanity for murder. These allegations span nearly eight years, from November 2011 to March 2019, capturing both his final years as the iron-fisted mayor of Davao City and the most violent chapters of his presidency. The prosecution contends that the "Davao Death Squad" model, long whispered about in the corridors of power, was effectively scaled into a national policy of extrajudicial execution. Mr. Duterte, through his legal team, has maintained a posture of defiant detachment. He has consistently dismissed the court’s jurisdiction as an affront to Philippine sovereignty, a position he reinforced by waiving his right to be physically present in the courtroom. While his attorneys argued that his absence was a matter of principle, a panel of medical experts had already declared the octogenarian former leader fit to stand trial, stripping away any pretext of infirmity. The prosecution, led by Karim Khan, voiced a sharp objection to this absence, suggesting that Mr. Duterte’s refusal to even view the proceedings via video link signaled a fundamental contempt for the very institution now tasked with judging him. The legal sparring inside the chamber has been characterized by a series of significant setbacks for the defense. In a string of rulings that underscored the court’s commitment to witness protection, the Pre-Trial Chamber denied motions from Mr. Duterte’s team to force the disclosure of identifying information about key witnesses. The judges also refused to order the release of less-redacted versions of sensitive documents, citing the high risk of reprisal in a country where the political shadows of the former administration still loom large. Furthermore, a motion to disqualify the external legal representatives of the victims—who have become a vocal and organized presence in the Hague—was summarily rejected for a lack of evidence regarding any conflict of interest. As the hearings progress, the sheer volume of evidence being considered suggests a meticulously constructed case. The defense was recently permitted to add 108 items to its evidentiary list, a move intended to provide a counter-narrative of a legitimate law enforcement operation. The prosecution, meanwhile, added 14 supplementary pieces of evidence, further fortifying a dossier that already includes thousands of pages of testimony, police reports, and forensic data. This evidentiary mountain is the foundation upon which the judges must decide if there is "substantial grounds to believe" that Mr. Duterte orchestrated a campaign of murder. Beyond the technicalities of the Rome Statute, the case carries an immense symbolic weight for the international legal order. It arrives at a time when the ICC is increasingly under pressure to prove that it can reach beyond the African continent and confront powerful figures in the Indo-Pacific. For the victims’ families, who have watched for years as the domestic legal system in the Philippines failed to produce a single high-level conviction, the hearings from February 23 to 27 represent the only credible path toward a reckoning. As the sun sets over the North Sea, casting long shadows across the modern glass facade of the court, the quiet work of the jurists continues. They are sifting through the remains of a presidency that was defined by its rejection of the very rules they are sworn to uphold. Whether this process leads to a full trial remains to be seen, but for one week in February, the silent, empty chair in Courtroom I serves as a powerful testament to the persistence of a memory that no amount of political rhetoric has been able to erase.