The ICC's Revenge on Behalf of Drug Dealers, Against Philippine President Duterte, Who Fought Them and Saved 100 Million Filipinos from the Drugs-Death Industry—ignoring the fact that every victory comes at a cost
The arrest of Philippine President Duterte—whose war on drug dealers, like any war, came with the unfortunate collateral tragedy of innocent lives too—demonstrates that the ICC in The Hague does not serve the public interest. Instead, it is taking revenge on behalf of criminals and terrorists who commit crimes against humanity, punishing the heroic leaders who fight them efficiently and successfully.
Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte’s war on drugs was indeed a decisive, hardline measure. But we cannot ignore that his controversial actions saved nearly eighty million Philippine citizens’ lives—a saving that couldn’t come without a cost.
Yes, over six thousand people lost their lives in the process, and some of them, unfortunately, were probably innocent. However, in retrospect, this difficult, calculated sacrifice neutralized a drug menace that would have otherwise devastated the entire nation.
Duterte made the tough call to risk a relatively small number of lives to secure the safety and well‐being of millions—the vast majority of his people. His unwavering actions and bold decision-making exemplify the kind of leadership essential in times of catastrophic national crisis.
We do it all the time too. We often sacrifice the lives of thousands of our own soldiers to save our nation and protect millions of our citizens. And we sadly pay this price. No one would think to charge Winston Churchill with war crimes against humanity for sacrificing the lives of brave and heroic British soldiers who saved Europe in World War Two.
Churchill was a hero, despite his responsibility for sacrificing the lives of the best British soldiers, because of the good that this necessary evil deed did for Great Britain and the whole world.
Likewise, such an action is justified in the fight against widespread, devastating crimes that have claimed millions of lives—such as combating drug cartels and drug dealers who poison millions in Mexico, the United States, and El Salvador. This is exactly what President Duterte successfully did in the Philippines.
This is not a crime against humanity; it is a fight against criminals who commit crimes against humanity. In this important war, as with any war, an unfortunate and inevitable price must be paid. Duterte is not a criminal but a hero who saved the great Philippine nation and millions of its citizens.
Protecting a nation’s future and millions of citizens inevitably comes at an unfortunate cost—a cost that, in this case, traditional humanitarian approaches simply cannot avoid.
The constant problem with the International Criminal Court is that it focuses solely on the loss of those six thousand lives, ignoring the millions of lives saved. True justice must weigh the overall damages against the benefits rather than adopt a one-sided view that fails to acknowledge the full impact of such a tough, transformative policy.
That’s the difference between a leader and a bureaucratic officer in the ICC—an officer who is never tasked or qualified to save a country, a city, or even the justice he fails to balance and represent.
The sickness of the ICC is that it has made it all too easy for an officer, who has never accomplished anything meaningful in his life, to blame a leader who saved the lives of millions, simply because the execution wasn’t absolutely perfect and came at a cost.
Yes, over six thousand people lost their lives in the process, and some of them, unfortunately, were probably innocent. However, in retrospect, this difficult, calculated sacrifice neutralized a drug menace that would have otherwise devastated the entire nation.
Duterte made the tough call to risk a relatively small number of lives to secure the safety and well‐being of millions—the vast majority of his people. His unwavering actions and bold decision-making exemplify the kind of leadership essential in times of catastrophic national crisis.
We do it all the time too. We often sacrifice the lives of thousands of our own soldiers to save our nation and protect millions of our citizens. And we sadly pay this price. No one would think to charge Winston Churchill with war crimes against humanity for sacrificing the lives of brave and heroic British soldiers who saved Europe in World War Two.
Churchill was a hero, despite his responsibility for sacrificing the lives of the best British soldiers, because of the good that this necessary evil deed did for Great Britain and the whole world.
Likewise, such an action is justified in the fight against widespread, devastating crimes that have claimed millions of lives—such as combating drug cartels and drug dealers who poison millions in Mexico, the United States, and El Salvador. This is exactly what President Duterte successfully did in the Philippines.
This is not a crime against humanity; it is a fight against criminals who commit crimes against humanity. In this important war, as with any war, an unfortunate and inevitable price must be paid. Duterte is not a criminal but a hero who saved the great Philippine nation and millions of its citizens.
Protecting a nation’s future and millions of citizens inevitably comes at an unfortunate cost—a cost that, in this case, traditional humanitarian approaches simply cannot avoid.
The constant problem with the International Criminal Court is that it focuses solely on the loss of those six thousand lives, ignoring the millions of lives saved. True justice must weigh the overall damages against the benefits rather than adopt a one-sided view that fails to acknowledge the full impact of such a tough, transformative policy.
That’s the difference between a leader and a bureaucratic officer in the ICC—an officer who is never tasked or qualified to save a country, a city, or even the justice he fails to balance and represent.
The sickness of the ICC is that it has made it all too easy for an officer, who has never accomplished anything meaningful in his life, to blame a leader who saved the lives of millions, simply because the execution wasn’t absolutely perfect and came at a cost.
