In 2016, Rodrigo Duterte rose to the presidency of the Philippines on a platform of eradicating crime, with a particular focus on the drug problem that had long plagued the country. Promising a swift and brutal campaign against drug dealers and users, Duterte's administration launched what became known as the "War on Drugs." The campaign, which was initially welcomed by many Filipinos desperate for safer streets, quickly drew international condemnation due to widespread human rights abuses and allegations of thousands of extrajudicial killings.
From the onset, Duterte’s rhetoric was aggressive and unfiltered. He encouraged law enforcement officers to kill drug suspects if they resisted arrest and even suggested that civilians should take justice into their own hands. This led to a climate of fear and lawlessness, where thousands of individuals—often from poor and marginalized communities—were shot dead in the streets or found dead under mysterious circumstances. Many of these deaths were attributed to police operations, while others were blamed on vigilante groups or unidentified assailants suspected to have ties with state forces. Reports from human rights organizations and media outlets indicated that the victims were not given due process, and in many cases, the evidence against them was scant or fabricated.
One of the most controversial aspects of Duterte’s campaign was "Oplan Tokhang," a portmanteau of the Visayan words "toktok" (knock) and "hangyo" (plead). Under this program, police officers visited the homes of suspected drug users and dealers to encourage them to surrender. However, in practice, these operations often turned deadly. There were numerous instances where suspects were killed during what police claimed were shootouts, but witnesses and families of the deceased frequently disputed these accounts. The bodies often bore signs of execution-style killings—gunshots to the head or chest, with no indication of a firefight.
Between 2016 and 2022, estimates of the death toll vary significantly. The Philippine government acknowledged the deaths of over 6,000 individuals in police operations, but human rights groups claim the number could be as high as 27,000 when including vigilante-style killings. The victims were overwhelmingly from impoverished neighborhoods, leading to accusations that the war on drugs was essentially a war on the poor. The lack of judicial oversight, transparency, and accountability fueled public concern and intensified global scrutiny.
The international community reacted strongly to these developments. The United Nations, the European Union, Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and the International Criminal Court (ICC) all raised alarms over the blatant violations of human rights. The ICC initiated a preliminary examination in 2018, and in 2021, it authorized a full investigation into possible crimes against humanity committed during Duterte's anti-drug campaign. Duterte, in response, defiantly rejected the jurisdiction of the ICC and withdrew the Philippines from the Rome Statute in 2019, although the court argued it retained jurisdiction over crimes committed while the country was still a member.
Despite the controversies, many Filipinos remained supportive of Duterte, citing a perceived drop in crime and a stronger sense of public order. Supporters argued that the war on drugs was necessary to dismantle powerful drug syndicates and prevent the Philippines from becoming a narco-state. They viewed critics as being out of touch with the harsh realities on the ground, and Duterte himself enjoyed high approval ratings throughout his presidency.
However, the long-term consequences of the drug war are still unfolding. Families of the victims continue to grieve without justice, and many communities live in fear of further violence. A culture of impunity has taken root, with police officers rarely held accountable for unlawful killings. Investigations into misconduct are slow, limited, or non-existent, and witnesses are often reluctant to come forward due to fear of retribution.
The chilling effect of Duterte’s war on drugs also extended to civil society. Journalists, human rights defenders, and critics of the administration were frequently harassed, threatened, or imprisoned. Prominent figures such as Senator Leila de Lima were jailed on what many observers believe were politically motivated charges. The shrinking civic space and the normalization of authoritarian practices raised concerns that the democratic institutions of the Philippines were under siege.
Efforts to challenge the narrative of the drug war have come from grassroots organizations, church groups, and advocacy networks that document abuses, support victims’ families, and push for accountability. These groups have worked tirelessly to gather evidence, provide legal assistance, and raise awareness about the human cost of the campaign. They face an uphill battle, especially in an environment where state propaganda is strong, and public dissent is often met with hostility.
As the Philippines transitions into a new era of leadership following Duterte’s term, the legacy of the drug war remains a contentious issue. Questions linger about justice, reparation, and the rebuilding of trust in law enforcement and government institutions. Whether or not the new administration will reckon with the abuses of the past or choose to maintain the status quo remains to be seen. For the thousands of families left behind, the demand is simple but powerful: truth, justice, and an end to impunity.
In hindsight, Duterte’s war on drugs may be remembered not only for its bloody toll but for the stark questions it raised about governance, human rights, and the rule of law in the Philippines. It stands as a grim reminder of how state power, when left unchecked, can become a source of terror rather than protection. The challenge now lies in confronting this painful chapter honestly and ensuring that such abuses do not define the future of the nation.