What Philippines loses by withdrawing from the ICC

“For the things I have said, ordered and done, I am willing to put my neck in,” he thundered during a campaign rally in Isabela province last week. “Maybe someday, if this ICC, these idiots, decide to hang me I would be very glad to go.”
And yet, as of yesterday the Philippines is no longer a member of the ICC – because Duterte, facing a possible investigation by the court into the massive casualties of his signature war on drugs, ordered the country’s withdrawal a year ago. The neck is willing to face up to the ICC, apparently, but not much else of the president.
The withdrawal puts to waste an 11-year effort across three presidencies to have the Philippines sign the Rome Statute, which gives the ICC jurisdiction to prosecute individuals for genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes and crimes of aggression.
The Philippines ratified the Statute in 2011. The ICC now has 122 member states after yesterday’s pullout by Manila.
Three countries – the African states of Burundi, South Africa and Gambia — had previously announced their withdrawal from the ICC, but Gambia and South Africa rescinded their decisions.
In his initial announcement, last March, that the Philippines was withdrawing from the ICC, Duterte insisted that the mass deaths from his drug war did not constitute crimes under the ICC’s jurisdiction: “The deaths resulting in the process of making lawful arrests arising from the violent resistance of the suspects that endangered the lives of the police officers cannot be said to have been committed against a national, ethical, racial or religious group.”
He also accused UN Special Rapporteur Agnes Callamard and former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Zeid Ra’ad al-Hussein, two of the staunchest critics of the drug war, of “readily show[ing] international bias”.
Callamard had decried rampant extrajudicial killings (EJK) that are now estimated to number more than 20,000. Duterte’s response was typically thuggish: “If you’re going to investigate me, I will slap you.”
Human rights and religious groups, as well as families of EJK victims, have submitted at least four statements against Duterte to the ICC.
The international court maintains that it retains jurisdiction over crimes that were committed while the Philippines was still an ICC member – incidents between August 2011 and March this year – and can continue its probe into the Duterte administration’s conduct during this period even now its withdrawal has taken effect.
Duterte and his advisers may imagine he can successfully escape accountability by yanking the country from under the ICC’s gaze. But ordinary Filipinos may find themselves at the losing end of this cynical and self-serving political manoeuvre.
Last year, lawyer Barry Gutierrez argued before the Supreme Court in Manila that the ICC provides a “safety mechanism” for Filipinos who want to seek redress for their grievances, especially when local courts are “unable or unwilling to actually provide justice to victims of these serious crimes enumerated in the ICC”.
Another legal expert, senatorial candidate Chel Diokno who founded the De La Salle University College of Law, warned that the withdrawal virtually gives the Duterte administration carte blanche impunity, as it “deprives… citizens of one remedy to grave and extraordinary crimes. … This is removal of the protection of ordinary Filipinos against government abuse. This will cause injustice and lack of accountability.”
The withdrawal may impact the country in other ways. The Philippines, for instance, can no longer make China accountable for crimes of aggression in the West Philippine Sea once it’s out of the ICC, pointed out Supreme Court Chief Justice Antonio Carpio.
All these, because Duterte refuses to account for the gravity and consequences of his brutal domestic policy, and has decided, in his pique at the global rebuke, to drag the country down the rabbit hole with him.