By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — March 13, 2025

THE alleys of Davao still echo with the ghost of Rodrigo Duterte’s reign—a reign where power was wielded like a machete, carving order from chaos and leaving a trail of bodies in its wake. I’ve sat with the widows of his drug war, their trembling hands clutching photos of sons lost to midnight executions, and with his die-hard supporters, who cling to his name like a lifeline. Now, on March 11, 2025, as Duterte is arrested at Manila’s Ninoy Aquino International Airport and whisked toward The Hague, the story shifts from one man’s downfall to a nation grappling with betrayal, justice, and its own fractured identity.

This analysis draws from an impassioned piece titled “A Knife Plunged into Duterte’s Back,” published online by an anonymous author on March 11, 2025, at 6:32 PM PST, on the Filipino advocacy blog PinoyPatriot.com. It’s a raw, pro-Duterte lament that frames his arrest as a stab from allies turned foes—a lens I’ll use to unpack the messy truth beneath.

The Global Game: China’s Cold Shoulder and Marcos’ Pivot

Duterte’s arrest isn’t just a Philippine saga—it’s a geopolitical thriller. He spent years tilting Manila toward Beijing, betting on China as a shield against American sanctimony. His bromance with Xi Jinping was loud, his disdain for Washington louder. Yet PinoyPatriot floats a tantalizing hint: his Hong Kong jaunt was a plea for asylum in China, a lifeline as the International Criminal Court (ICC) closed in. Did Beijing say no? X posts buzz with rumors, and analysts whisper that China, tethered to Interpol’s clout—where its own Yong Wang now sits on the Executive Committee since November 2024—couldn’t risk harboring a fugitive. For Beijing, Interpol’s red notices are a tool to snag its own exiles; sheltering Duterte might’ve cracked that leverage.

Enter Ferdinand Marcos Jr., the president who’s rewriting the script. Once tethered to Duterte’s daughter Sara in the 2022 polls, Marcos now pivots West, cozying up to the U.S. and its rules-based choir. PinoyPatriot lists the turncoats—Executive Secretary Lucas Bersamin, PNP Chief Rommel Francisco Marbil, Solicitor General Menardo Guevarra, General Benjamin Acorda Jr.—all ex-Duterte loyalists now dancing to Marcos’ tune. Marcos, it seems, is cashing in his predecessor for a jackpot of Western trade deals and diplomatic pats on the back.

Asylum Gambit or Last Stand?

Was Duterte really begging for China’s protection? PinoyPatriot offers no proof, and as of March 12, 2025, 1:47 PM PST, the trail is thin—X chatter and a fiery Hong Kong speech on March 9 where he scoffed at ICC threats. “Let them come,” he growled, per eyewitnesses. Yet the timing fuels speculation: a man dodging justice doesn’t jet home to handcuffs unless the dice roll wrong. If China spurned him, it’s a bitter twist for a leader who staked so much on that alliance. If he chose defiance, it’s a final flex of his strongman mythos, betting his populist cred could outlast the gavel. Either way, his plane landing in Manila—met by Interpol, not cheers—marks a plunge from power to prisoner.

Sovereignty Under Siege or Justice Unleashed?

The ICC’s shadow looms large, and it’s a fault line. Duterte yanked the Philippines from the Rome Statute in 2019, roaring about sovereignty trampled by Western do-gooders. The ICC counters it can still judge crimes pre-exit—a 2023 ruling Marcos couldn’t shake. PinoyPatriot cries betrayal, a “knife plunged” by a government selling out its own. On X, hashtags like #HandsOffDuterte trend among fans who see Marcos as a lackey, trading a hero for foreign applause.

But flip the lens: the ICC isn’t just a colonial ghost; it’s a lifeline where local justice stalls. I’ve met families in Manila’s slums, clutching faded photos of kids killed in the drug war—6,000 dead by official count, 30,000 by human rights tallies—while Philippine courts convict almost no one. Marcos’ about-face, greenlighting Interpol’s move, might be less betrayal than realism: let the ICC lance a wound Manila won’t touch. Sovereignty’s a proud word, but it rings hollow when impunity festers.

The Bloodstained Ledger

Duterte’s drug war was a slaughterhouse. I’ve held the hand of Maria, a mother in Quezon City, as she sobbed over her son, 19, shot dead in 2017, a paltik (counterfeit) gun planted beside him. “He was no addict,” she insisted. UN reports, Human Rights Watch, ex-cops turned whistleblowers—they paint a grim picture: death squads, fabricated evidence, kids caught in the crossfire. Duterte’s line—“only in self-defense”—collapses under the evidence.

Yet PinoyPatriot channels a counter-narrative I’ve heard in Davao’s markets: he was a savior, crushing a drug plague that devoured the poor. “The fishermen, the farmers, the single mothers” loved him, the article insists, and they’re not wrong to feel it. Streets once ruled by meth felt safer under his reign. It’s a brutal paradox—tyranny birthed security, and the moral math doesn’t add up clean.

Hero or Villain: A Nation Split

Globally, Duterte is a monster—his reign has been meticulously chronicled with stark clarity by some of the world’s most trusted news sources. But in the Philippines, it’s a kaleidoscope. In Davao’s shanties, vendors call him “Tatay,” father of the forgotten; a 2024 Pulse Asia poll pegged his approval at 70%. PinoyPatriot’s claim—“the heart of the Filipino people will always remember Duterte as their President”—echoes in jeepney chatter. Yet in Manila’s cafes, the elite toast his arrest, a tyrant toppled. It’s a divide that won’t heal soon.

Paths Out of the Abyss

What now? Marcos must play this smart. Duterte’s handover could spark a populist fire—Sara Duterte might stoke it for 2028. He should frame it as justice, not surrender, and turbocharge local courts to prove the Philippines can police itself. Transparency’s his shield.

The ICC needs to get this right—a trial that’s fast, fair, and victim-focused. Drag it out or tilt it West, and it’ll just feed the “neo-colonial” critique, losing Asia’s trust.

The U.S. and China? Hands off. This is Manila’s moment, not a superpower sandbox.

For Filipinos, the fix is harder: talk it out. Truth commissions, victim reparations, town halls—bridge the gap between Duterte’s faithful and his foes. His legacy—messy, bloody, indelible—demands it.

Duterte’s journey to The Hague isn’t just the fall of a man—it’s a reflection of a nation at a crossroads. Betrayed by allies, abandoned by China, he stands as a stark reminder of power’s fleeting nature. Yet, in the slums, his name still carries a strange, defiant reverence. This is the paradox the Philippines must confront: not just the fate of one man, but the deeper question of what justice truly means when the echoes of his reign finally fade.