26-3-2025 – In a striking twist of fate, Rodrigo Duterte, the former Philippine president whose iron-fisted rule dominated headlines for years, found himself at the centre of a global legal storm. On March 11, 2025, he was apprehended at Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila, fresh off a flight from Hong Kong, under the weight of an International Criminal Court (ICC) warrant.
The charges? Crimes against humanity, linked to his notorious drug war and the shadowy Davao Death Squad killings during his time as both mayor and national leader. Whisked away to The Hague, Duterte became the first ex-Philippine head of state—and indeed the first Asian leader—to face detention at the ICC, marking a seismic shift in his once-unassailable legacy.
Whispers of asylum quickly swirled in the wake of his arrest. Speculation mounted that Duterte, whose family has held sway over Davao City and its surrounding region for nearly 40 years, might have sought sanctuary in China—a nation he’d courted during his 2016-2022 presidency, steering Manila away from its long-standing alliance with Washington. Yet Beijing was swift to quash such talk.
On March 24, Chinese foreign ministry spokesperson Guo Jiakun firmly declared that no asylum request from Duterte or his kin had ever reached their desks. Allies close to the former leader echoed this, dismissing the notion as baseless, while Malacañang Palace professed ignorance of any such plea.
China’s stance is hardly surprising, given its lack of a formal asylum framework. As the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) pointed out in a 2018 report, the country has no national law or system for processing asylum claims.
Instead, the UNHCR steps in, assessing individual cases under its own mandate. Those granted refugee status receive a certificate and temporary refuge in China, but it’s a precarious existence—barred from working, they depend on the agency for essentials like food, shelter, and healthcare until a third country offers permanent resettlement. For those deemed ineligible, the label of “illegal immigrant” awaits. Legal scholar Lili Song has noted that this arrangement leaves little room for local integration, a reality that raises questions about whether Duterte would even have pursued such a path—or had the means to navigate it.
The drama unfolded against a backdrop of diplomatic intrigue. Just a day before the ICC greenlit its probe into Duterte’s alleged atrocities in July 2023, he’d been warmly received by Chinese President Xi Jinping at Beijing’s Diaoyutai State Guest House. That meeting, held a year into Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s presidency, came as the Philippines began pivoting back towards the United States—undoing Duterte’s efforts to cosy up to China.
Nearly two years on, with the political tides in Manila dramatically altered, Beijing has been keen to distance itself from any asylum rumours as the ICC’s gavel looms over its former ally.
China’s response to Duterte’s arrest has been measured yet pointed. Breaking its initial silence on March 11, foreign ministry spokesperson Mao Ning called the detention “an important sudden incident,” urging the ICC to tread carefully, respecting the principle of complementarity—where national courts take precedence—and to avoid the taint of politics or bias.
Beijing’s embassy in Manila, meanwhile, has rebuffed local media enquiries, leaving its official line unspoken but its position clear. For Duterte, once a towering figure whose drug war claimed countless lives, the journey from power to the dock has been as swift as it is unprecedented.
