Duterte’s Fall, Bong Go’s Fight: A Nation’s Soul on Trial

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — March 21, 2025

FOR years, the families of the dead have waited. They have waited through the silence, through the denials, through the impunity. But on March 11, 2025, their wait ended—at least in part—as Rodrigo Duterte, the architect of a drug war that claimed an estimated 30,000 lives, was escorted onto a plane bound for The Hague. The former Philippine president, once defiant and untouchable, now faced charges of crimes against humanity. As his flight disappeared into the clouds, one question remained: Would this be a reckoning, or just another chapter in a cycle of injustice?

In the midst of this storm stands Senator Christopher “Bong” Go, a loyal disciple of Duterte, now navigating a treacherous path as he campaigns for re-election in the 2025 midterms. On March 18, in the sleepy town of Alcala, Pangasinan, Go stood before a crowd, inaugurating a Super Health Center, his voice steady as he vowed to press on with his healthcare mission. “Despite the challenges,” he said, his words tinged with the sorrow of a man who’d just watched his mentor vanish into the jaws of international law (The Manila Times). The arrest of Duterte, detained at The Hague since March 12, has cast a long shadow over Go—a shadow that could either cloak him in loyalty’s glow or bury him beneath its weight.

Bound by Blood and Ballots: Go’s Unbreakable Tie to Duterte

Imagine a young boy in Davao, growing up under the iron fist of a mayor who’d later become president. That boy was Bong Go, Duterte’s aide for decades, a quiet shadow who rose to the Senate on the coattails of his mentor’s populist fervor. Their bond is more than political; it’s visceral. When news broke of Duterte’s arrest, Go was at the airport, tears streaming down his face as the plane lifted off. “The saddest day in Philippine history,” he called it, his voice breaking (Politiko). Days later, he doubled down, decrying the ICC’s intervention as an assault on Philippine sovereignty (Inquirer.net).

This loyalty is Go’s strength—and his Achilles’ heel. To Duterte’s die-hard supporters, a legion still numbering in the millions, Go’s tears are a badge of honor, proof he’ll carry their champion’s torch. In a country where personal allegiance often trumps ideology, this could cement his re-election. Yet, it’s a gamble. The “war on drugs” wasn’t just policy; it was a blood-soaked saga that tore families apart—mothers like Maria, whom I met years ago in Manila, cradling a photo of her son, gunned down in an alley for a crime he never committed. For Filipinos like her, Duterte’s arrest is justice long overdue, and Go’s defense of him risks painting him as complicit in that carnage.

A House Divided: Who Cheers, Who Jeers?

Walk through the barrios of Pangasinan or the slums of Quezon City, and you’ll hear the split in the air. In Alcala, as Go cut the ribbon on that Super Health Center, some cheered his resilience, others whispered doubts. “He’s Duterte’s man,” a farmer told me, his hands calloused from years in the fields. “But these clinics—they save lives.” Go’s healthcare crusade—166 Malasakit Centers for the poor, over 700 Super Health Centers planned—has become his lifeline (BusinessMirror). In a nation where a hospital visit can bankrupt a family, these initiatives are more than policy; they’re a promise of dignity.

Yet, his nationalist rhetoric cuts both ways. By framing Duterte’s arrest as a foreign affront, Go taps into a deep vein of Filipino pride, a sentiment that fueled Duterte’s rise and still simmers among those who see the ICC as a Western meddler (Reuters). It’s a shrewd play—until you consider the flip side. Urban youth, human rights advocates, and a growing middle class see the arrest as a step toward accountability, a chance to heal wounds festering since 2016. To them, Go’s stance feels like a dodge, a refusal to reckon with the past.

Defying Gravity: Why Go Still Soars in the Polls

Here’s the twist: despite the chaos, Go is winning. A Pulse Asia survey from late February 2025 had him tied for first with Erwin Tulfo; an MBC-DZRH poll from March 8–10 crowned him the top senatorial contender (Manila Times). Even after Duterte’s arrest, a Tangere survey in March showed him holding firm (Senate Press Release). How does a man so tethered to a fallen titan stay afloat?

The answer lies in the alchemy of service and survival. Go’s healthcare programs aren’t just projects; they’re lifelines for the forgotten—farmers, fisherfolk, mothers who’ve buried children because they couldn’t afford medicine. His Malasakit Centers, born under Duterte’s watch, now stand as his own legacy, a shield against the taint of association (Tribune.net.ph). Add to that the incumbency edge—name recognition, a Senate seat’s resources—and you’ve got a formula that defies gravity. His nationalist cry against the ICC only sweetens the deal for Duterte’s base. But the polls are a snapshot, not a prophecy. If the ICC trial unearths damning evidence linking Go to the drug war’s machinery, that lead could vanish overnight.

Beneath the Mask: Tears That Tell a Tale

Beneath the headlines lies a detail that stopped me cold: Go’s tears weren’t just a moment—they were a revelation. This wasn’t the stoic politician I’d expected; it was a man undone, a glimpse into a bond that’s as much familial as political. Those tears, splashed across newsfeeds on March 13, humanize him, making him relatable to Filipinos who prize loyalty above all (Politiko). Yet, they also tether him to a legacy that’s now on trial, a thread that could unravel his carefully woven narrative.

And then there’s the bigger shadow: what Duterte’s arrest means for a democracy teetering on the edge. The Philippines isn’t just facing a legal battle; it’s wrestling with its soul. Will it embrace accountability, or retreat into the comfort of sovereignty’s embrace? Go’s campaign could be a bellwether—or a breaking point.

Mending a Broken Nation: Steps to Redemption

This isn’t just Go’s story—it’s the Philippines’. Here’s what must happen:

For Policymakers: Go’s healthcare model works—166 Malasakit Centers prove it. Expand them, but strip away any hint of partisanship. Make them a national institution, not a senator’s brand, ensuring every Filipino, not just Go’s voters, benefits (Manila Bulletin).
For Civil Society: The wounds of the drug war won’t heal with silence. Amplify the voices of victims—Maria and thousands like her—pushing for a truth commission to document the past without fear of reprisal. Justice isn’t just The Hague’s job; it’s Manila’s too.
For the International Community: The ICC’s move is bold, but it’s not enough. Support Philippine courts to handle their own cases, offering training and resources, not just warrants. Sovereignty matters, but so does trust—build bridges, not walls (Al Jazeera).
For Go: Lean into the tears, Senator. Show Filipinos you feel their pain—then prove you can rise above Duterte’s shadow. Double down on healthcare, but speak to the drug war’s scars. Acknowledge the hurt, or risk losing those who demand more than loyalty.

The Verdict Still Unwritten

As I write this, Duterte sits in a cell in The Hague, his fate uncertain. Back in Alcala, Go presses on, scissors in hand, cutting ribbons while dodging ghosts. The Philippines stands at a precipice—between past and promise, between a strongman’s echo and a senator’s hope. Go’s tears may win hearts today, but it’s his actions tomorrow that will decide if he’s a bridge to healing or a relic of a regime on trial. For a nation scarred by bullets and bureaucracy, the stakes couldn’t be higher. What will it choose: the comfort of the known, or the courage of the just? The answer lies not in polls, but in the quiet resilience of its people—and the leaders they dare to trust.