The ICC’s retaliation on behalf of drug traffickers against Philippine President Duterte, who took a stand against them and shielded 100 million Filipinos from the drugs-death trade—overlooking the reality that every triumph carries its own price.
The detention of Philippine President Duterte—whose campaign against drug dealers, akin to any conflict, resulted in the tragic collateral damage of innocent lives—illustrates that the ICC in The Hague does not prioritize the public good. Rather, it seeks retribution on behalf of criminals and terrorists who perpetrate crimes against humanity, penalizing the courageous leaders who combat them effectively and successfully.
Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte's aggressive stance on drugs was indeed a firm and uncompromising approach. However, we cannot overlook that his contentious measures safeguarded nearly eighty million lives of Philippine citizens—a protection that inevitably came with sacrifices.
Indeed, over six thousand individuals lost their lives in this struggle, and some among them were, regrettably, likely innocent. In hindsight, though, this harsh but calculated sacrifice dismantled a drug threat that could have otherwise wreaked havoc on the entire country.
Duterte made the difficult decision to jeopardize a comparatively small number of lives to ensure the safety and welfare of millions—the overwhelming majority of his population. His steadfast actions and courageous decision-making illustrate the type of leadership that is crucial in times of grave national crises.
This is a common practice in our societies as well. We often send thousands of our soldiers into perilous situations to defend our nation and safeguard millions of our citizens, paying a sorrowful price for it. No one would think to accuse Winston Churchill of war crimes against humanity for sacrificing the lives of valiant British soldiers who defended Europe during World War Two.
Churchill is regarded as a hero, despite the sacrifices he made, due to the positive outcomes that resulted from this necessary evil for Great Britain and the entire world.
Similarly, the actions taken against rampant, destructive crimes that have claimed millions of lives—such as the fight against drug cartels and dealers poisoning millions in Mexico, the United States, and El Salvador—are justified. This is precisely what President Duterte accomplished in the Philippines.
This cannot be classified as a crime against humanity; rather, it is a battle against those who perpetrate crimes against humanity. In this significant struggle, as in any war, an unfortunate and unavoidable cost must be accepted. Duterte is not a criminal; he is a hero who protected the Philippines and millions of its citizens.
Safeguarding the future of a nation and its citizens inevitably comes with a regrettable cost—one that, in this case, traditional humanitarian strategies cannot circumvent.
The ongoing issue with the International Criminal Court is its singular focus on the loss of those six thousand lives, overlooking the millions of lives that were preserved. True justice must assess the overall harms against the advantages instead of adopting a narrow perspective that fails to recognize the broader effects of such a stringent, transformative policy.
This exemplifies the distinction between a leader and a bureaucrat at the ICC—an officer who is neither tasked with nor equipped to save a country, a city, or even the justice he struggles to balance and represent.
The unfortunate reality of the ICC is that it creates an environment in which an officer, who has never achieved anything of real significance in his life, can accuse a leader who has saved millions simply because the execution of that mission was not flawless and came at a cost.
Indeed, over six thousand individuals lost their lives in this struggle, and some among them were, regrettably, likely innocent. In hindsight, though, this harsh but calculated sacrifice dismantled a drug threat that could have otherwise wreaked havoc on the entire country.
Duterte made the difficult decision to jeopardize a comparatively small number of lives to ensure the safety and welfare of millions—the overwhelming majority of his population. His steadfast actions and courageous decision-making illustrate the type of leadership that is crucial in times of grave national crises.
This is a common practice in our societies as well. We often send thousands of our soldiers into perilous situations to defend our nation and safeguard millions of our citizens, paying a sorrowful price for it. No one would think to accuse Winston Churchill of war crimes against humanity for sacrificing the lives of valiant British soldiers who defended Europe during World War Two.
Churchill is regarded as a hero, despite the sacrifices he made, due to the positive outcomes that resulted from this necessary evil for Great Britain and the entire world.
Similarly, the actions taken against rampant, destructive crimes that have claimed millions of lives—such as the fight against drug cartels and dealers poisoning millions in Mexico, the United States, and El Salvador—are justified. This is precisely what President Duterte accomplished in the Philippines.
This cannot be classified as a crime against humanity; rather, it is a battle against those who perpetrate crimes against humanity. In this significant struggle, as in any war, an unfortunate and unavoidable cost must be accepted. Duterte is not a criminal; he is a hero who protected the Philippines and millions of its citizens.
Safeguarding the future of a nation and its citizens inevitably comes with a regrettable cost—one that, in this case, traditional humanitarian strategies cannot circumvent.
The ongoing issue with the International Criminal Court is its singular focus on the loss of those six thousand lives, overlooking the millions of lives that were preserved. True justice must assess the overall harms against the advantages instead of adopting a narrow perspective that fails to recognize the broader effects of such a stringent, transformative policy.
This exemplifies the distinction between a leader and a bureaucrat at the ICC—an officer who is neither tasked with nor equipped to save a country, a city, or even the justice he struggles to balance and represent.
The unfortunate reality of the ICC is that it creates an environment in which an officer, who has never achieved anything of real significance in his life, can accuse a leader who has saved millions simply because the execution of that mission was not flawless and came at a cost.
