Revisiting Duterte’s Drug War: A Legacy of Violence and Unresolved Questions

Manila – As the Philippines grapples with the enduring fallout of Rodrigo Duterte’s presidency, his brutal anti-drug campaign remains a deeply divisive chapter in the nation’s history. Launched with a promise to eradicate the drug menace within months, the so-called “war on drugs” left thousands dead—predominantly from the country’s poorest communities—and sparked international outrage. Now, years after Duterte’s tenure ended in 2022, questions linger over whether the campaign achieved its stated goals or merely deepened societal wounds.

A Campaign Defined by Bloodshed

From the outset, Duterte’s approach was uncompromising. In 2016, he vowed to rid the Philippines of drugs in just three to six months, a timeline he later extended to the end of his term. “I did what I had to do” he declared in 2024, reflecting on a campaign that, according to official government figures, resulted in over 6,000 deaths during police operations. Human rights organizations, however, estimate the toll could be as high as 30,000, including vigilante-style killings that became a grim hallmark of the era. A 2017 document from the Office of the President even listed 20,000 drug-related deaths as an “accomplishment” within the first 17 months of his administration.

The victims, as data from groups like Drug Archive Philippines reveals, were overwhelmingly from marginalized backgrounds. Of the cases where employment status was documented, most were in low-paying or skilled labor jobs, painting a stark picture of a policy that disproportionately targeted the poor. Analysis by the Ateneo Policy Center further shows that nearly half of the 5,021 drug-related deaths recorded between May 2016 and September 2017 involved individuals labeled by police as small-time suspects, with only a fraction identified as major drug figures.

Did the War on Drugs Succeed?

Evaluating the campaign’s success depends on the metrics used. Government data indicates a significant drop in reported crimes during Duterte’s early years, with total index and non-index crimes falling from 675,816 in 2015 to 261,565 in 2019. Yet, this decline was short-lived—by 2020, crime rates rose again to 394,468, and remained high at 379,499 in 2022. More critically, the campaign failed to deliver a lasting reduction in drug use. According to the Dangerous Drugs Board (DDB), the number of drug users had already been declining before Duterte took office, dropping from 6.765 million in 2004 to 1.755 million in 2015. By the end of his presidency, the figure stood at 1.479 million—a modest decrease that hardly justifies the staggering human cost.

Even Duterte himself acknowledged the persistence of the drug trade. In 2021, he admitted that despite thousands of arrests, “they are still around.” This candid admission raises doubts about the effectiveness of a strategy rooted in violence rather than systemic reform. Jorge Tigno, a political science professor at the University of the Philippines Diliman, has criticized the punitive approach as unsustainable. In a policy brief for the Center for Integrative and Development Studies, he argued that illegal drug use cannot be addressed solely as a criminal issue and that retributive measures “will not suffice.” Instead, he advocated for involving health professionals to tackle the root causes through rehabilitation and support—a path starkly at odds with Duterte’s methods.

A Missed Opportunity for Rehabilitation

The emphasis on enforcement over treatment is evident in rehabilitation data. Admissions to centers across the Philippines peaked at 6,079 in 2016, the first year of Duterte’s presidency, but plummeted to 2,708 by 2022, according to DDB figures. This decline suggests a lack of sustained investment in non-violent solutions, even as the death toll mounted. International voices, including Amnesty International, have long warned against such heavy-handed tactics, noting that they “devastate lives while failing to tackle the root causes of drug use and sale.” The organization has urged governments worldwide to treat drug issues as a public health challenge rather than a target for lethal force.

Allegations of High-Level Complicity

Beyond the campaign’s outcomes, disturbing allegations have surfaced regarding connections between Duterte’s inner circle and the very drug trade he sought to dismantle. Last year, former police colonel Eduardo Acierto testified before the House Quad Committee that he had submitted a 2017 intelligence report implicating Michael Yang—a Chinese national appointed by Duterte as an economic adviser—and businessman Allan Lim in criminal activities. Acierto claimed his warnings were ignored by senior officials, and he accused Duterte of protecting Yang. Additionally, Arturo Lascañas, a self-confessed hitman for the alleged Davao Death Squad, submitted a 186-page affidavit to the International Criminal Court, naming Yang as a coordinator of methamphetamine labs in Mindanao during the early 2000s. Yang, through his legal counsel, has denied these allegations.

Further complicating the narrative are accusations involving Duterte’s son, Davao Representative Paolo Duterte, and his brother-in-law, Atty. Manases Carpio. Both were linked by a former Bureau of Customs intelligence officer to a 2018 shipment of methamphetamine valued at $125 million. Paolo Duterte has rejected the claims, but they continue to fuel speculation about whether the campaign’s aggressive rhetoric masked deeper systemic issues. These allegations remain unproven in a court of law, and no conclusive evidence has been presented to confirm high-level involvement in the drug trade. Nevertheless, they underscore the opacity surrounding the campaign and its true beneficiaries.

Human Rights and International Scrutiny

The scale of the killings has drawn intense scrutiny from human rights groups and international bodies. The International Criminal Court (ICC) has been investigating potential crimes against humanity related to the drug war since 2018, with Duterte’s own statements—such as his 2017 remark that he would order the killing of his own children if they were involved in drugs—cited as evidence of intent by critics. The Philippines withdrew from the ICC in 2019 under Duterte’s administration, but the court’s probe continues, focusing on the period when the country was still a member state.

Reports of vigilante killings, often carried out with apparent impunity, have further tarnished the campaign’s legacy. Rights groups argue that the state’s endorsement of violence—whether through direct police action or tacit approval of extrajudicial acts—has eroded trust in institutions and normalized a culture of fear, particularly among the urban poor who bore the brunt of the crackdown.

A Polarized Legacy

Duterte’s drug war remains a polarizing issue in the Philippines. Supporters argue it sent a strong message against crime and instilled a sense of order, pointing to the initial drop in crime statistics as evidence of its impact. Critics, however, contend that the policy was a catastrophic failure, both morally and practically, as it neither eradicated drug use nor addressed the socioeconomic conditions driving it. The high death toll, coupled with the lack of accountability for alleged abuses, continues to haunt public discourse.

Public sentiment, as reflected in online discussions and local media, often splits along class lines. While some middle- and upper-class Filipinos express relief at perceived improvements in safety during Duterte’s early years, many from poorer communities recount personal losses and a pervasive sense of injustice. This divide highlights the challenge of reconciling a policy’s stated intentions with its real-world consequences.

Looking Ahead: Lessons Unlearned?

As the Philippines moves forward under new leadership, the shadow of Duterte’s drug war looms large. Current President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has distanced himself from the overt violence of his predecessor, emphasizing a more balanced approach that includes prevention and rehabilitation. Yet, with over 1.4 million drug users still reported in recent surveys, the underlying issues persist. Without addressing poverty, lack of opportunity, and inadequate healthcare, any strategy risks repeating the mistakes of the past.

The international community, too, watches closely. The ICC’s ongoing investigation could set a precedent for accountability, potentially reshaping how governments approach drug policy under global scrutiny. For now, Filipinos are left to reckon with a legacy of loss and unanswered questions: Was the war on drugs a necessary evil, or a tragic misstep? And how can a nation heal when the wounds of violence remain so raw?

As debates over Duterte’s methods continue, one thing is clear—the path to a drug-free Philippines demands more than bullets. It requires a vision that prioritizes lives over body counts, and solutions over slogans.