I. THE TASK AHEAD IS TO END THE CYCLE OF IMPUNITY
II. POLITICAL DYNASTIES AND A WEAK JUSTICE SYSTEM UNDERMINE ACCOUNTABILITY
III. DUTERTE SUPPORT IS STILL STRONG
IV. DISINFORMATION IMPEDES ACCOUNTABILITY
V. ‘WE CANNOT HAVE MULTIPLE TRUTHS’
VI. REAL CHANGE MEANS MEETING PEOPLE WHERE THEY ARE
In the Philippines, the powerful are rarely held to account. Rodrigo Duterte, now in the custody of the International Criminal Court (ICC), is one of few exceptions.
The arrest represents a deeply personal victory for Sarah Celiz, a mother who lost two sons to the drug war.
“Ang sabi ko sa mga anak ko at apo, ‘Ito na tayo ngayon. Nakikita ko na ‘yung bukang liwayway at lumiwanag na ‘yung madilim kong karanasan sa buhay (I told my children and grandchildren, ‘Here we are now. I can see the break of dawn, and the darkness I experienced in life has finally begun to clear),’” she said.
In 2017, her eldest son, Almon, was shot by police during a raid, and months later, her second son, Dicklie, was found dead after reportedly being taken by authorities.
Lawyer Kristina Conti, who has brought drug war generals to local courts, was delighted they could show the families that their patience and persistence in seeking justice were not in vain.
The ICC warrant of arrest on Duterte accuses him as “indirect co-perpetrator” in the crime against humanity for murder. Retired Filipino ICC judge Raul Pangalangan said it is equivalent to a “mastermind.”
But Celiz, Conti and everybody who celebrated Duterte’s arrest know very well that it is only a step, not the completion, of justice.
Duterte has maintained loyal supporters, who have mobilized across the Philippines, in The Hague, and other cities abroad to show support and call for his return to the Philippines.
They cannot influence the ICC process already underway, but the protests underscore deeper, unresolved issues in the country.
The political division shows familiar patterns from 1986 to 2001, where Filipinos who remained loyal to ousted presidents Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and Joseph Estrada were heedless to the demands for justice and accountability.
The Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) interviewed thinkers, activists, and other key voices to diagnose these deep political divisions gripping the country.
What would it take to rebuild, reconcile and heal the nation?
History professor Vicente Rafael and activist lawyers Antonio La Viña, Ruben Carranza, Dante Gatmaytan, and Kristina Conti reflected on the cycle of impunity, weak justice system, poor literacy, and entrenched corruption—problems long enabled by political dynasties and oligarchies in the country.
Journalist and Nobel laureate Maria Ressa shared her views on the role of social media and technological platforms.
Drieza Lininding, a passionate Duterte supporter-turned-critic from Marawi, offered insights into the hold the former president still has over his base.
The political divide has sharpened against the backdrop of next month’s midterm elections and the presidential elections just three years away.
It is clear to PCIJ’s interviewees that, in the current power struggle between the Dutertes and the Marcoses, those who win over the voters and prevail in the polls will shape the next chapter of the country’s history.
I.
The task ahead is to end the cycle of impunity
Vicente Rafael, a historian and professor known for his analysis of Philippine politics and culture, said the country remains trapped in the same historical patterns that have long haunted it.
“The story loop of the Philippines is that Philippine politics is a politics of colonial rule, occasionally punctuated by social movements and resistance. If you look at it that way, you will see that we are going through another cycle,” Rafael said.
In 1986, a wide coalition of Filipinos gathered along EDSA for a bloodless uprising that forced Marcos to flee and restored democracy in the Philippines.
It would become one of the most iconic democratic movements in the world, inspiring several nonviolent protests that would go on to topple dictators across the globe.
But the “unrealized possibilities” of the democracy birthed by people power, one where political dynasties and oligarchies eventually monopolized public office created the space for a Marcos restoration.
The Marcoses, said Rafael, took advantage of electoral politics to regain power, in the process distorting history and creating a false narrative about the martial-law era being the country’s “Golden Age.”
Antonio “Tony” La Viña, lawyer and educator from Mindanao and former dean of the Ateneo School of Government, blamed current woes on the “bad democracy” that emerged after the fall of the dictatorship.
“The big work to change society, as you know, never happened so you end up with Marcos again,” he said.
The story loop of the Philippines is that Philippine politics is a politics of colonial rule, occasionally punctuated by social movements and resistance. If you look at it that way, you will see that we are going through another cycle.
vicente rafael, historian
Duterte’s case before the ICC was possible because of the tireless work of civil society groups that documented the killings and secured the witnesses despite knowing that justice was impossible inside the country. Their work helped build the case before the international court.
Both EDSA and Duterte’s arrest “showed that if we work together, we can change a bad situation to a better one,” said La Viña.
But Rafael can’t shrug off the bitter taste left by an arrest driven by “political calculations” by Marcos “to find ways to basically undercut the Duterte support.”
“It’s not exactly something I get excited about. You get rid of Duterte but the Marcoses are still there,” he said.
It’s the same cycle repeated over Philippine history, he said.
“One dynasty wins; another dynasty loses. The other dynasty plots against that dynasty. It’s the same dynastic, oligarchic politics,” he said.
“In both cases, impunity is the name of the game, and Duterte’s impunity may be punished now. But we very easily forget the horrors of the Marcos regime—the torture victims and the stolen wealth,” he said.
To complete the pursuit of justice after Duterte’s arrest, said La Viña, the country needs to prevent Vice President Sara Duterte from becoming president.
II.
Political dynasties and a weak justice system undermine accountability
The Philippines has a poor record of holding political families accountable.
“People power” ousted Joseph Estrada in 2001, in the midst of a televised impeachment trial, during which his allies blocked disclosure of evidence of the president’s corruption.
Estrada was convicted by the Sandiganbayan but was eventually pardoned. He would become Manila mayor before he retired from politics, and his wife and two sons would be elected to the Senate.
It took a decade to secure court convictions against members of the Ampatuan political dynasty in Maguindanao, held responsible for the killing of 58 Filipinos in one of the world’s worst cases of election violence.
The Ampatuan patriarch died in jail and his sons lost their political influence, but family members continue to rule in several Maguindanao towns.
All of the above cases show how political dynasties and a weak justice system have undermined accountability.
Ruben Carranza, former commissioner of the Presidential Commission on Good Government (PCGG)—the agency tasked with recovering the Marcos family’s ill-gotten wealth—remains frustrated over the repeated acquittals of the Marcoses in graft cases.
Not only did these allow the Marcoses to keep a big chunk of the ill-gotten wealth, he said the acquittals fueled the disinformation narratives that the Marcoses were not guilty of their crimes and corruption.
Carranza, now senior associate at the International Center for International Justice in New York, recalled that it was Rudy Giuliani, US President Donald Trump’s personal lawyer, who prosecuted Marcos in the ‘80s.
In 1988, a federal grand jury indicted the Marcoses on charges of racketeering, alleging they diverted over $103 million from the Philippine treasury to acquire New York real estate and artworks.
Marcos died in 1989 and the evidence was not really useful against his widow, Imelda, said Carranza. The former first lady was acquitted in a New York court, which she said was the “vindication” of her family.
“Marcos loyalists continue to use that even all the way to the elections in 2022 to say the Marcoses were never found guilty anywhere,” said Carranza.
When charged, Philippine politicians resort to dragging out their cases in court and walking away with nothing more than a slap on the wrist – if they are not entirely absolved. Often, they make deals with those currently in power.
We overestimated the spirit of EDSA and underestimated the greed of the politicians.
Christian Monsod, one of the framers of the 1987 Constitution
Dante Gatmaytan, professor at the University of the Philippines College of Law, said President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s pardon of Estrada is an example.
“Arroyo’s pardon of Estrada is designed to gain support because she alienated a portion of the population when Estrada was arrested and tried. Her hold on power was tenuous from the beginning because she replaced a very popular president,” he said.
Gatmaytan teaches constitutional law and local government law and has published books on both.
He said there’s evidence that courts tend to show deference to powerful people, citing a student’s quantitative study of Sandiganbayan cases that showed that members of political dynasties are more likely to get acquitted.
Sen. Jinggoy Estrada, son of former President Estrada, would find himself in another corruption investigation, the P10 billion “pork barrel” scam.
He was acquitted of plunder in January 2024 but he was convicted of one count of direct bribery and two counts of indirect bribery, which carried imprisonment and fines. Only seven months later, the Sandiganbayan reversed its decision, acquitting Estrada of the bribery charges due to insufficient evidence.
He still faces several counts of graft charges.
Political dynasties rule the Philippines despite a constitutional ban on political dynasties. Lawmakers simply did not enact a law that will eject them from power.
“We overestimated the spirit of EDSA and underestimated the greed of the politicians,” Christian Monsod, one of the framers of the 1987 Constitution, has said in speeches.
PCIJ research shows about 80% of government positions are occupied by members of political dynasties. When families control the executive and legislative branches, anti-corruption advocates warn that checks and balances break down, raising the risk of corruption.
III.
Duterte support is still strong
Duterte rose to power in 2016 by presenting himself as a political outsider who would spare no one to change the status quo characterized by crime, corruption, and slow justice.
Every weekend since the former president’s arrest, thousands of overseas Filipino workers have gathered in The Hague to show their support. Protests have also been organized in various Philippine cities.
It’s hard to ascertain how much of the population supports Duterte. A survey conducted just weeks before his arrest showed that a majority, albeit a very slim one at 51%, said Duterte was accountable for the drug war deaths.
Only 25% disagreed and 10% said they didn’t know enough; the rest were undecided.
“It’s worth looking into. I think, if you get beyond the noise, most people might be indifferent. They don’t really care that much,” Rafael said.
One indication of public sentiment is the rising popularity of pro-Duterte senatorial candidates.
Despite the former president’s arrest, Senator Christopher “Bong” Go has overtaken former survey leader Erwin Tulfo in the latest polls.
Majority or not, Duterte retains a loyal base of supporters, largely believed to come from two main groups: Filipinos in Mindanao and those living overseas.
They echo Duterte’s portrayal of the ICC case as foreign interference, dismissing it as an attack on Philippine sovereignty rather than a legitimate pursuit of justice.
“Are you sure it is tens of thousands?” one online clip that circulated showed a Duterte supporter trying to correct a Dutch journalist. “It’s only 7,000,” he said, seemingly okay with a smaller number of deaths.
The drug war killings were a “hoax,” claimed another supporter in the Philippines.
Duterte supporters have spammed the Linked In post of the ICC judge overseeing his case, with some of them appealing for his release. They also targeted families of drug war victims and journalists covering the ICC proceedings in The Hague with online verbal attacks.
Celiz, a mother of drug war victims, scoffed at the irony of Duterte supporters invoking faith.
“They say they’re praying for Duterte’s freedom. They now claim to know the Lord — yet Duterte only had insults and foul language before,” she said.
“I want Duterte to be held accountable for everything he did to the victims of the war on drugs, no matter how many supporters he has,” she said.
IV.
Disinformation impedes accountability
One of the greatest obstacles to holding abusive past presidents accountable in the Philippines is the power of disinformation. In a political culture shaped by manipulated memory and distorted truths, accountability becomes elusive.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the reframing of the People Power Revolution. Once a symbol of democratic courage and unity, EDSA has been twisted by Marcos loyalists into a story of betrayal.
They flooded social media with false claims, portraying the Marcos dictatorship as a time of peace and prosperity—the country’s supposed “Golden Age”—while casting Cory Aquino as the architect of economic collapse.
But facts tell a different story. Marcos left the country with nearly $30 billion in foreign debt—a burden that continues to drain public resources today. That debt, accumulated through widespread corruption and cronyism, could have funded essential services in education, healthcare, and infrastructure.
Marcos Jr.’s election as a senator in 2010 showed the marks of a carefully orchestrated historical whitewashing. With the rise of social media, the Marcos disinformation machine found a powerful new amplifier.
A 2012 PCIJ article by journalist Ed Lingao, A different EDSA story, exposed how YouTube became a hub for propaganda videos that flipped the script—portraying Marcos as a hero of EDSA for refusing to fire on protestors, while suggesting Cory Aquino hid in safety far from the frontlines.
Duterte’s capacity for lying, and for being believed, was built on the lies of Marcos. Before either of them could run for high office, they needed to create a mountain of falsehoods so vast that it became difficult to say, ‘This is all one big lie.’
Ruben carranza, former pcgg cOMISSIONER
In 2016, Marcos Jr. came close to winning the vice presidency. That year’s elections—widely regarded as the ground zero of Facebook disinformation in the Philippines—brought Rodrigo Duterte to power.
Duterte’s campaign, like Marcos’s, capitalized on distorted narratives, dismissing the legacy of EDSA and weaponizing social media to shape public opinion.
According to Carranza, Duterte’s rise would have been impossible without the path paved by Marcos: “Duterte’s capacity for lying, and for being believed, was built on the lies of Marcos. Before either of them could run for high office, they needed to create a mountain of falsehoods so vast that it became difficult to say, ‘This is all one big lie.’”
To protect that mountain of lies, truth-telling institutions—especially the press—were targeted. Journalists faced online harassment, while vloggers and self-styled legal experts promoted counter-narratives and discredited traditional media.
Duterte said Senator Imee Marcos supported his 2016 campaign, though her exact role remains unclear. Her name does not appear in Duterte’s official campaign finance reports.
Meanwhile, Bongbong Marcos stayed in the spotlight by challenging his electoral loss, using unproven cheating claims to remain politically relevant. Though the case was dismissed for lack of basis, it kept him in the public eye.
By 2022, the Marcos and Duterte dynasties formally joined forces—reportedly through Imee’s mediation.
Bongbong Marcos secured the presidency with over 31 million votes, becoming the first Philippine president since Joseph Estrada in 1998 to win a majority. But the alliance would eventually fracture, revealing a country deeply divided along regional and class lines.
When confronted with legal consequences, Duterte dismissed his arrest as political persecution—framing it as a vendetta by the Marcoses.
“Even when [Duterte] lies, they think it’s part of a strategy.”
drieza lininding, duterte supporter-turned-critic
His daughter, Vice President Sara Duterte, even compared his plight to that of Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr., who was assassinated in 1983 upon returning from exile. For EDSA veterans, the comparison was outrageous, but not surprising.
In the world shaped by Marcos and Duterte, such distortions are routine.
“What’s missing,” Carranza observed, “is an economic analysis of why so many Filipinos are vulnerable to lies. What makes them believe disinformation so easily?”
In Mindanao, activist Drieza Lininding pointed to a toxic mix of fanaticism, patronage, and personality politics—all supercharged by disinformation. Duterte, he said, remains untouchable in the eyes of his base. “Even when he lies, they think it’s part of a strategy.”
Education has been suggested as a solution, but Lininding warned that disinformation is also propagated by the educated elite—people who lie deliberately, fully aware of the harm they cause.
In a system fueled by patronage, even those who should know better often look the other way. Some do so for political favors; others for small payments to help spread lies online.
“They are lying to people who don’t deserve to be lied to,” Carranza said.
They are lying to people who don’t deserve to be lied to.
For Nobel laureate and journalist Maria Ressa, the problem is clear: “This is technology-enabled, insidious manipulation that shifts elections and enables information warfare. It’s eroding the integrity of facts,” she told PCIJ.
Ressa has consistently called out Big Tech’s role in this erosion, blaming profit-driven algorithms for amplifying falsehoods and undermining democracy.
In the wake of Duterte’s arrest, Lininding saw a friend post on social media, declaring he was ready to go to war for the former president.
Alarmed, Lininding responded with a plea for calm: “Dahan-dahan kayo. Tayo na naman ang kawawa niyan. Matuto na tayo.”
With local elections approaching, he wished people would channel their passion toward real problems.
“In Marawi, we still have unreliable electricity. That’s what we should be asking candidates about—how they plan to fix that,” he said.
V.
‘We cannot have multiple truths’
As the Philippines confronts its past, the path toward justice is fraught—but not without hope.
For human rights lawyer Conti, the ICC proceedings offer a rare and vital opportunity to confront the truth about Duterte’s “drug war” and to establish that extrajudicial killings are wrong—under any leader, in any era.
“We can’t have multiple truths,” Conti said. “People say, ‘This is my truth.’ But when it comes to justice, there has to be one truth.”
She points out that many of Duterte’s supporters may simply be unaware—isolated in gated villages untouched by police patrols, or viewing the country from abroad through rose-tinted lenses. The ICC, she believes, can present a singular, evidence-based account of what happened—beyond the noise of propaganda and personal bias.
Conti believes the ICC’s case is strong. With its international reach and higher evidentiary standards, the court may finally do what the Philippines has often failed to: hold not just foot soldiers, but masterminds, accountable.
Importantly, Conti emphasizes that this is not about foreign interference. The Philippines joined the ICC voluntarily in 2011. The case, she says, is about international cooperation, and setting the record straight—not only for Duterte’s crimes, but also for the legacy of impunity stretching back to Marcos’s martial law and the activist killings under Arroyo.
“We can’t repeat what happened during martial law,” Conti said. “Back then, victims received compensation, but there were no criminal convictions. We owe it to future generations to show that the powerful can be held to account.”
We can’t have multiple truths…. People say, ‘This is my truth.’ But when it comes to justice, there has to be one truth.
kristina conti, human rights lawyer
She also hopes the ICC proceedings can inspire similar action within the country—against both top officials and the lower-level enablers of state violence. The ICC’s rigorous process, she said, may even help pinpoint the real architects of the killings, a rarity in local courts.
Conti’s vision doesn’t end with convictions. She advocates for a law criminalizing the denial of human rights violations—similar to laws against Holocaust denial. Drawing parallels with the Nuremberg Trials, she warns that forgetting past atrocities—whether under Marcos, Duterte, or others—only makes society more vulnerable.
“It’s dangerous to forget,” she said. “We cannot allow these horrors to be scrubbed from our collective memory.”
Still, resistance is mounting. Duterte’s legal team is now trying to block the participation of external counsel representing victims at the ICC. Conti called the move “out of touch and harsh,” an attempt to silence the very people who suffered the most.
But she remains undeterred. She said they are preparing a rejoinder, determined to give the victims the best representation.
VI.
Real change means meeting people where they are
On a Friday afternoon in Quezon City, a different kind of resistance was taking shape. At the PETA Theater, artists and activists gathered for a forum on the power of storytelling in the human rights movement.
The speaker, director Marlon Rivera, is known for crafting some of the country’s most memorable ad campaigns. But for the past decade, he’s chosen to use his skills in the service of activism.
“We haven’t been winning these past ten years,” Rivera admitted, half-jokingly. Since Duterte’s rise, he said, the demonization of human rights has taken root. Changing the narrative, he emphasized, is now a central battle.
Rivera urged the audience to move beyond lecturing. He told them to ask questions, to replace cringe with curiosity. He referenced how some progressives dismiss things like “budots”—a dance trend embraced by the masses—without trying to understand its appeal. Real change, he argued, means meeting people where they are, and listening before persuading.
Replace cringe with curiosity.
marlon rivera, film director
Conversations that afternoon also highlighted stories of resistance from within affected communities: mothers who patrolled the streets to protect their children, and police officers who quietly disobeyed orders.
Cultural change, Rivera said, is a long game. He has been traveling across cities with advocacy group Dakila, helping creatives find their voice in the fight against disinformation.
At times, his frustration shows. “If I had the budget,” he said, “I’d launch a professional campaign.”
La Viña, on the other hand, is focused on the short term. He’s eyeing the upcoming elections—and 2028—as critical battlegrounds. To counter a Duterte resurgence, he’s proposed a tactical alliance with the Marcoses, a controversial move he admits is difficult to stomach. But he fears the growing momentum behind Sara Duterte’s potential presidential bid.
Rafael is skeptical. He worries such alliances will only perpetuate the same cycle of impunity. Carranza, meanwhile, still hopes a genuine liberal opposition will emerge.
If recent history is any guide, no frontrunner before the midterm elections—except Estrada—has gone on to win the presidency.
As the country faces an uncertain future, history is also a reminder that truth, justice, and memory must endure, not only to confront the past but also to imagine a different future. – PCIJ.org