The recent Senate hearing led by Senator Imee Marcos offered Filipinos more than just political theater — it exposed a painful and familiar truth about our nation’s leadership: when accountability knocks, the powerful are quick to wash their hands.
The hearing, which aimed to uncover the government’s role in the looming International Criminal Court (ICC) case against former President Rodrigo Duterte, instead revealed a room full of modern-day Pontius Pilates. Each official present — from the country’s top security, justice, and police agencies — chose to distance themselves from the controversial issue of Duterte’s potential surrender to the ICC. Not one would claim ownership of the decision or even hint at who gave the orders.
Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla flatly denied any assistance to the ICC, stating the Department of Justice had no hand in cooperating with the court. Defense Secretary Gilbert Teodoro likewise made it clear that the Department of National Defense did not play a part in any process linked to Duterte’s case. National Security Adviser Eduardo Año and Interior Secretary Jonvic Remulla also joined the chorus of denial, claiming no involvement and no knowledge of actions leading to Duterte’s potential submission to the international court.
Not to be left out, Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief General Rommel Francisco Marbil and Criminal Investigation and Detection Group (CIDG) Chief General Leo Francisco Torre III echoed the same script. Despite the PNP and CIDG being among the most likely agencies tasked to carry out any ICC-related warrant or coordination, both officials carefully avoided confirming any direct role or command responsibility. Instead, they subtly passed the burden back to civilian authorities, deferring to policy and legal frameworks rather than pointing to any person in command.
In the end, it was clear: nobody wanted to point the finger, and more importantly, nobody wanted to admit the uncomfortable possibility that the order might have come from the very top — from the sitting President himself. The result was a masterclass in bureaucratic self-preservation, a political dance of denial, and a chilling demonstration of how loyalty can evaporate the moment personal risk enters the equation.
Senator Imee Marcos, to her credit, pressed the issue hard. She voiced what many Filipinos were thinking when she criticized the way her brother’s Cabinet and the police were handling the matter, asking pointedly why no one stood up for Duterte — a man once backed and defended by the same establishment now trying to erase their association with him.
The spectacle is more than just about Duterte or the ICC. It’s about a government culture where accountability is always someone else’s problem, and the public is left sifting through official statements full of gaps and contradictions.
The basin of Pontius Pilate might have been made of stone in ancient Rome, but in today’s Senate it is invisible — passed from one official to the next, their hands scrubbed clean of responsibility, while the truth remains submerged and justice waits in limbo.
The Filipino people deserve answers, not a parade of denials. When history writes this chapter, it will remember not only the case of former President Duterte but the officials who chose silence over service and self-preservation over principle.