Duterte's ICC Lawyer & Imee Marcos' Senate Report Insight

I was having my afternoon coffee while listening to some 90s R&B—one of those quiet, almost automatic routines I’ve built to start the day right—when I scrolled past a headline from Manila Bulletin:

"Senate panel report to help in Duterte's ICC jurisdiction challenge – counsel."

I paused. Then I laughed. Not the funny kind. The are-you-serious kind.
Then came the disgust.

The thought bubble in my head practically wrote itself:
“Kaufmann is a fucking idiot. That panel report is tainted.”

But a few seconds later, I leaned back and took another sip.
Let him be. Let him bring Imee’s report to the ICC. Let him carry that circus script into The Hague and call it evidence.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned watching this whole mess unfold—
Everything Duterte touches?
It doesn’t turn to gold.
It turns to rot.

And this? This right here?
It’s the Duterte Touch in full display.

Flashback: The “Duterte’s Touch” Theory Wasn’t Supposed to Be Real

I first came up with the term “Duterte’s Touch” half-jokingly.

It was somewhere between the Pharmally mess and the early ICC drama. I remember watching clip after clip of former allies defending the indefensible. Senators turning press conferences into theater. Human rights lawyers becoming spin doctors. It felt like everything Duterte touched either broke, decayed, or got corrupted.

At the time, I wasn’t trying to be deep. I was just naming what I saw.

I said it like a punchline: “Midas touch turns things to gold. Duterte’s touch turns them to rot.”

And then the list started to grow.

Harry Roque, for example. He once celebrated the Philippines' ratification of the Rome Statute. He co-founded the Center for International Law, defended victims of the Ampatuan massacre, and told the public in 2016 to reject Duterte’s candidacy, calling him a “self-professed murderer” (Verafiles).

Then he joined Duterte’s Cabinet. Suddenly, extrajudicial killings were “not a crime under Philippine law,” and Duterte’s public admissions of murder were just jokes (Inquirer). Roque even mocked the ICC—the same court he once championed.

By 2021, his former allies were publicly denouncing him. The UN barely gave him a vote.

Mocha Uson? Once a breast cancer awareness advocate and sex-ed blogger, she became a government appointee and was soon dubbed the “Queen of Fake News.” She made a federalism campaign video that featured suggestive dancing, mocked sign language on video, and built her blog on disinformation while drawing a government paycheck (Verafiles).

Alan Peter Cayetano? The same guy who used to lead Senate inquiries into corruption ended up defending the drug war abroad. As Foreign Secretary, he told the UN that Human Rights Watch was misleading the public and that the drug war was, somehow, a defense of human rights (HRW).

Sal Panelo, a former constitutional lawyer who once defended Marcos-era victims, ended up comparing Duterte to World War II heroes and threatening lawsuits against journalists for doing their jobs (Inquirer).

Bong Go? A low-profile aide turned senator whose family bagged ₱6.6 billion in government projects—₱5.1 billion of which happened during Duterte’s first two years in power (MB).

Bato dela Rosa? Decorated police officer turned drug war general. Now under ICC investigation, with his U.S. visa revoked. Even Duterte himself admitted in a hearing that Bato was one of the heads of his own death squad (SCMP).

And now, Nicholas Kaufmann. An international lawyer with a previously solid track record—now planning to walk into the ICC holding a Senate report written by Imee Marcos, backed by a fake DOJ memo, and wrapped in political theater.

Yes, really. A fake DOJ memo—called out as “manufactured” by Prosecutor General Richard Fadullon himself during a Senate hearing (source: YouTube – GMA News).
When confronted, Imee just said it was “not material” (source: YouTube – ANC).

This is the Duterte Touch. Not superstition. Not karma. Just pattern recognition.

Because the closer you get to defending him, the faster you start losing your grip on reason, facts, and eventually, your dignity.
And Imee? She didn’t just get close. She volunteered.

She turned the Senate into a stage play—complete with pre-approved conclusions, partisan testimonies, and media leaks timed with her campaign schedule. She went from senator to propagandist in one hearing flat.
All for what? A seat she ended up winning, yes—but at the cost of her last shred of credibility.

So now here comes Kaufmann, planning to use that report. Floating the idea as if The Hague might be swayed by a partisan Philippine Senate hearing.

Let him be.

Because this isn’t just some made-up theory anymore.
It’s a pattern I’ve seen unfold again and again.
And Kaufmann?
He just got touched.

Imee Marcos’ Senate Probe: A Politically Timed Performance Piece

Let’s be clear about the timeline first.

The investigation happened between March and April 2025—right in the middle of campaign season.
The elections were scheduled for May 12, 2025.
And yes, Imee Marcos was one of the candidates.

So while the headlines talked about “truth-seeking” and “institutional independence,” the context was anything but neutral.
This wasn’t about justice.
This was about reelection.

And just a few days before the hearings kicked off, on March 26, Imee made a move that said more than any press release could:
She withdrew from Bongbong’s administration slate.
She didn’t just break rank—she crossed the street entirely.

That’s when the ITIM campaign dropped.

Inday Trusts Imee Marcos.
Black outfits. Coordinated speeches. Shared language about being oppressed, silenced, starved for justice.
It was peak drama, dressed in defiance.
Sara Duterte and Imee Marcos, locked arm in arm—not for the country, but for the vote.

And Sara wasn’t shy about it. During one campaign rally, she publicly thanked Imee for launching the Senate investigation, saying it helped gather evidence they could use for Duterte’s legal defense (source: Philstar). She practically confirmed what many already suspected:
This was not about oversight.
This was about building a shield for a crumbling dynasty.

And it worked.

Imee got what she wanted—reelection.
Her face was all over the news. Her name became a fixture in every anti-Marcos echo chamber online.
She didn’t need a full campaign team.
She had Senate hearings aired live.

That’s what this was: state-sponsored exposure.

Not a probe.
An audition.

And now that the show’s over, here comes Kaufmann, clinging to the script.
He wasn’t part of that campaign. He wasn’t in on the performance.
But now he wants to repurpose the leftovers—as if the ICC will watch reruns of a campaign tactic and call it justice.

He’s holding up a prop and calling it evidence.

Because while the public may have moved on, he’s still stuck in Act One.

Let him be.

Senate Probe or Scripted Spectacle? The Evidence Itself Collapses

The fake DOJ memo already told us everything we needed to know.

It was the first red flag—but not the last. Because what followed wasn’t a real investigation. It was a performance. With props, actors, lighting, and lines delivered just in time for the 6PM news cycle.

And like all bad performances, it collapsed under its own weight.

Let’s start with the “evidence.”

Imee Marcos claimed that the Bureau of Immigration confirmed ICC personnel had entered the country in secret, with government cooperation. But when pressed on the source, even she admitted the data had questionable origins (source: GMA News). No verified documents. No chain of custody. Just a spreadsheet passed around like gossip in a group chat.

That didn’t stop her from using it.

Because this wasn’t about finding the truth—it was about writing a story.

And the cast? Carefully selected.

The witnesses invited to testify were either Duterte loyalists or politically convenient voices. No constitutional experts. No independent lawyers. No neutral observers. Just a curated panel meant to echo the same conclusion: Duterte was the victim, and the government was plotting against him.

There was no attempt at balance.
No cross-examination.
No effort to test credibility.

Because credibility was never the goal.

And while the headlines carried words like “findings” and “panel report,” it’s important to say this plainly:
Senate hearings are not courtrooms.
They don’t follow evidentiary rules.
They don’t produce legal decisions.
And unless adopted by courts or independent legal bodies, they carry no weight outside that chamber.

In fact, the Supreme Court has already ruled that Duterte’s arrest was legal, finding no violation of rights and no justification to stop the enforcement. That ruling alone collapses the core of Imee’s “kidnapping” theory.

But she didn’t stop there.

She accused the entire government—from Cabinet secretaries to immigration officers—of being part of a “whole-of-government cover-up.” Big words. Dramatic framing. But when it came to proof?
Nothing.
No sworn affidavits.
No authenticated documents.
No whistleblower testimony.

Just leaks, anonymous tips, and one manufactured memo that fell apart on live television (source: YouTube – GMA News).

Even her own brother wasn’t buying it.

President Marcos Jr. publicly stated that Duterte’s arrest was carried out in response to an Interpol notice, not on ICC orders. He made it clear it wasn’t politically motivated and rejected the idea that his Cabinet conspired to betray Duterte (source: Philstar).

Whether Bongbong Marcos is telling the truth about the Interpol coordination is another story— one that needs to be proven, now or later.

But Imee’s claims during the hearing?
A supposed conspiracy, an illegal arrest, a government-wide betrayal—none of it stood on solid ground. She made sweeping accusations with nothing to back them up. No hard evidence. No signed testimonies. No traceable paper trail. Just theories built on questionable documents and the echo of Duterte’s defense.

So if the courts aren’t backing it…
If the President isn’t backing it…
Who is?

Apparently, Nicholas Kaufmann.

And that’s what makes it worse.

Because the International Criminal Court isn’t blind to this tactic. They’ve seen politically motivated defenses before. They’ve flagged Duterte’s legal team in past filings for submitting rhetoric disguised as legal argument. A partisan Senate report—anchored in fake documents, unverified data, and public spectacle—isn’t a defense.

It’s a distraction.

This wasn’t an investigation.
It was a press release.
And if Kaufmann thinks The Hague will treat it like truth,he’s not presenting a legal strategy.
He’s performing someone else’s script.

And the judges in that courtroom?
They don’t give standing ovations for propaganda.

This Was Never About the Truth—It Was a Political Transaction

Let’s stop pretending this was ever about justice.

Imee Marcos didn’t launch that Senate investigation because she was shocked by Duterte’s arrest. She did it because she needed airtime, protection, and a political life raft. She had just broken away from her brother’s administration slate. She was running for reelection in a climate where loyalty to the Marcos name wasn’t enough anymore. And she knew exactly where to turn.

Sara Duterte needed someone with power—someone in the Senate—who would defend her father publicly.
Imee needed Sara’s endorsement.
So the deal practically wrote itself.

And like most political deals in this country, it didn’t need to be said out loud. You just saw it unfold:
The ITIM campaign.
The hearings.
The headlines.
The press releases disguised as legal findings.
The thank-you speech from Sara.
And then the votes.

They both got what they wanted.

Imee got reelected.
Sara got a public defender for her father, using state resources and government airtime.

The Senate investigation wasn’t a pursuit of truth.
It was currency.
And Kaufmann? He’s waving it around like it’s evidence—but it’s just a receipt from a closed transaction.

Because if this were about actual legal defense, that report would have been submitted long before the election. Not after. Kaufmann only floated the idea after Imee had already won, after Sara had already thanked her, and after the whole spectacle had served its purpose. He’s not building a defense. He’s rummaging through old campaign material and calling it strategy.

But what these people fear isn’t injustice.
It’s irrelevance.

The ICC case doesn’t just threaten Duterte with accountability. It threatens to make his loyalists politically useless. No more leverage. No more “kingmaker” status. No more justifications for blocking investigations or demanding loyalty.

So they reached for the only thing they had left:
a Senate report built on hearsay, performance, and propaganda.

This was never about evidence.
It was never about protecting a former president.
It was about survival, branding, and staying politically useful—even if it meant turning the Senate into a campaign stage and using international law as a prop.

Kaufmann’s Fall—From Counsel to Clown

Nicholas Kaufmann should’ve known better.

This isn’t some fresh-out-of-school intern fumbling his first defense. Kaufmann is a veteran. He’s defended controversial figures before. He understands international law, the Rome Statute, and the standards of the ICC. This isn’t new ground for him.

And that’s exactly why this is so embarrassing.

Because when a lawyer of his stature starts quoting a Senate investigation chaired by Imee Marcos, built on fabricated memos, questionable][[[[[[

' data, and campaign-season theatrics, you don’t just question the evidence.
You question his judgment.

The moment he reached for that report, he lost the plot.

No serious ICC lawyer would treat a partisan Senate report as real evidence—especially not one chaired by Imee Marcos and built on shaky claims.

Especially not when it’s already been publicly dismantled by the Department of Justice, discredited by the Supreme Court’s ruling on the legality of Duterte’s arrest, and rejected—even indirectly—by President Marcos Jr. himself.

But Kaufmann took it anyway.

He didn't vet it.
He didn’t challenge it.
He embraced it.

And in doing so, he became part of the very thing he’s supposed to stand apart from: the Duterte Touch.

It’s no longer just about defending a client.
Now it’s about defending a performance.

He could’ve chosen strategy. He could’ve built a clean legal argument about jurisdiction, procedure, or timing. But instead, he reached for a report written in Tagalog soundbites, designed for campaign rallies, and littered with unverified claims.

He didn’t build a case.
He grabbed a prop.

A real legal defense leans on law.
On precedent.
On fact.

But Kaufmann?
He’s echoing press releases and soundbites.
He’s walking into a courtroom holding Imee Marcos’ script like it’s gospel.

Imee Marcos' hearing is over.
The public has moved on.
Even the main actors have taken their bows.

But here he is, still on stage.
Still holding the mic.
Still pretending the show hasn’t ended.

Kaufmann isn’t building a defense.
He isn’t slowing the ICC down.
He didn’t outmaneuver anyone.

He stepped into the circus tent, called it a courtroom, and started juggling props.

And in doing so, he proved something he probably doesn’t realize yet:

He’s not saving Duterte.

He’s becoming him.