Today, as we commemorate Araw ng Kagitingan or Day of Valor, the nation bows its head in solemn remembrance of the bravery shown by Filipino and American soldiers during one of the darkest chapters in our history—the fall of Bataan on April 9, 1942. It is a day etched in blood, sweat, and silence; a day when thousands were forced into the brutal Bataan Death March, and yet their will to fight for the country never perished.
This annual commemoration is meant not just to honor those who gave their lives, but to remind us of the values they embodied—patriotism, loyalty, sacrifice, and courage. Yet as we mark this solemn day in 2025, the very essence of valor is once again being tested, this time not by foreign invaders, but by the delicate and polarizing question of justice, sovereignty, and political survival.
The recent news involving former President Rodrigo Duterte—and the ongoing efforts by international bodies like the International Criminal Court (ICC) and INTERPOL to pursue him for alleged crimes against humanity—has placed the country in an awkward and dangerous political crossroad. While the government has neither confirmed nor denied direct cooperation, clear indications point to the current administration’s quiet endorsement or facilitation of international mechanisms against its predecessor.
To many, this development is seen as a triumph of justice. For others, it reeks of betrayal—a turning over of a fellow Filipino to foreign hands. It invokes the memory of that dark period during the Japanese occupation when some Filipinos, in exchange for safety or favor, informed on their fellow citizens. These actions led to arrests, executions, and untold suffering. Then, it was for survival. Now, it is cloaked in the language of accountability—but at what cost?
We are not here to absolve anyone of wrongdoing. The bloody legacy of the war on drugs is undeniable. Thousands of lives were lost, many of them the urban poor, whose voices were silenced before they were ever heard. Families remain broken. Communities still bear the trauma. Justice must be served.
But the pressing question remains: Must we surrender our own to foreign tribunals? Must we, in the name of human rights, relinquish our national pride and sovereignty? Are we truly incapable of pursuing justice within our own borders, under our own laws, with our own courts?
If we dig deeper, the ICC’s involvement—cheered on by Duterte’s political opponents—does not exist in a vacuum. It reflects a deeper issue of political vengeance, selective accountability, and a growing dependence on foreign systems to settle what should be domestic matters. Today it is Duterte. Tomorrow, who will it be? If we set this precedent, what’s stopping the next administration from doing the same to their enemies?
This is a slippery slope that undermines not only justice but the very idea of Filipino sovereignty. For all the flaws of our system, the solution is not to outsource justice to institutions whose understanding of our culture, politics, and realities is limited. We must strengthen our own institutions, not abandon them.
On this Day of Valor, we remember our heroes—not just those who died on the battlefield, but those who stayed loyal to the country even when it was easier to surrender, to save themselves, to betray. They are heroes not just for their courage but for their fidelity to the nation, a fidelity that must guide us even today.
If we are to truly honor their sacrifice, we must also be brave in the face of political convenience. We must question the narratives being sold to us, ask who benefits, and think of the long-term consequences of our choices. Valor is not the loud cheer for another’s downfall; it is the quiet but firm insistence on fairness, dignity, and national self-respect.
We cannot rewrite history, but we can learn from it. And in learning, we must ensure we do not repeat the same tragic roles—where fellow Filipinos once again become pawns of larger powers, sold off in the name of justice that may not be ours.
On this day, let us not only remember the sacrifices of our past heroes but also confront the responsibilities of being a citizen today. Valor is not about vengeance. It is about the courage to build a nation that stands on its own, fights for its people, and upholds justice without surrendering its soul.