By Atty. Howie Calleja
Imagine being a mother who lost her son to the drug war—shot in the street, no trial, no explanation. For years, you’ve waited for justice, clinging to the hope that the ICC might hold those responsible accountable. Then, you see the Senate pass a resolution urging the court to send former President Rodrigo Duterte home to house arrest, citing “humanitarian reasons.” How would you feel? Betrayed? Angry? Like your grief doesn’t matter?
This is the reality for thousands of drug war victims and their families, and it’s why lawyer Kristina Conti’s critique of the Senate resolution as “political noise” strikes such a chord. The resolution isn’t about compassion—it’s about politics, plain and simple. It’s a performance designed to appeal to Duterte’s loyal base, even as it ignores the suffering of those he left behind.
Let’s start with the basics: the Philippines isn’t even an ICC member anymore. We withdrew in 2019, under Duterte’s watch, precisely to avoid this kind of scrutiny. So, when the Senate passes a resolution telling the ICC what to do, it’s like a stranger knocking on your door and demanding you rearrange your furniture—uninvited, unhelpful, and completely irrelevant. The ICC doesn’t have to listen, and it won’t. This is just a “moro-moro,” a traditional Filipino play where the outcome is pre-determined, and the only goal is to entertain the crowd.
And let’s talk about “humanitarian reasons.” If the Senate were truly concerned about the well-being of the elderly, why aren’t they fighting for the thousands of senior citizens rotting in our jails? Prisons in the Philippines are over 400% capacity—cells meant for 10 people hold 50, with no air conditioning, no clean water, and barely enough food to survive. Many elderly inmates suffer from diabetes, hypertension, and other chronic illnesses, but they can’t afford medicine or see a doctor. If the Senate wants to be humanitarian, they should pass a resolution to release these seniors, not a former president accused of killing thousands.
Then there’s the matter of Sen. Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa, one of the resolution’s sponsors. Dela Rosa was Duterte’s first police chief and the architect of the drug war. He’s also a potential co-perpetrator in the ICC’s murder charges against Duterte. So, when he defends the resolution as “compassionate,” it’s hard not to see it as self-preservation. If Duterte comes home, will he be held accountable? Or will he be protected by his allies in the Senate? The answer seems obvious.
The drug war wasn’t just a policy—it was a human tragedy. It destroyed families, tore communities apart, and left a legacy of fear and impunity. For the Senate to prioritize Duterte’s comfort over the quest for justice is a slap in the face to every victim. It sends a message that power and influence matter more than truth and accountability.
If the Senate truly wants to make a difference, they should focus on the issues that matter: improving our jails, providing healthcare for the elderly, and addressing the root causes of poverty and addiction. They should also consider rejoining the ICC, not to defend Duterte, but to show the world that we’re serious about justice.
In the end, the Senate resolution is a hollow gesture. It won’t bring Duterte home, it won’t help the victims, and it won’t make our country a better place. It’s just another example of the political games that have long plagued our nation. And until we demand better from our leaders, the cycle will continue.