The camp of international fugitive Sen. Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa has complained about the P50-million bounty offered for his arrest, calling it baseless and claiming that it puts his life in danger. His allies, led by Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano, meanwhile, are demanding “fairness” and insisting that he be accorded due process.
The hypocrisy is breathtaking. This is the same Bato who served as chief implementer of Oplan Tokhang, former president Rodrigo Duterte’s bloody and abusive war on drugs that killed thousands and terrorized communities in the name of peace and order. If Bato fears for his life because the International Criminal Court (ICC) has issued an arrest warrant against him, what of the countless lives his Tokhang campaign put in danger, particularly those of the poor? His allies demand fairness, but what of the victims of extrajudicial killings whose only semblance of due process was a piece of cardboard tied to their dead bodies, branding them as drug pushers? Apparently, due process is a right when Bato needs it, but a luxury when the accused are poor and powerless.
Who could forget Bato’s infamous response when asked about the innocent young people and minors killed during the drug war? Calling them “collateral damage” was apparently not enough. He dismissed their deaths with the callous remark, “Sh*t happens.” That is how he treated Filipino lives, as though they were nothing more than pieces of dog sh*t someone happened to step on.
But now that his own life is at stake, suddenly, every precaution matters. His life is so precious that his lawyers have repeatedly gone to the Supreme Court seeking a temporary restraining order against the ICC warrant. For Bato, sh*t happens to everyone else. But when it comes to him, it becomes a national concern.
I can understand why Bato might be growing paranoid. He now has P50-million reasons to be scared. The bounty changes the dynamics of the manhunt. Suddenly, those who have been protecting or coddling him have P50-million reasons to reconsider their loyalties. He has P50-million reasons to suspect everyone around him, while those searching for him have P50-million reasons to become more determined, or finally take off their blinders. At that price, even the most loyal might begin to negotiate.
Of course, P50 million is small change compared with the hundreds of millions of pesos allegedly plundered by politicians, some of whom belong to Bato’s own bloc in the Senate. But maintaining a fugitive life is not cheap, either. How much would it take to keep people quiet, secure their loyalty and ensure that nobody gives him away? There is only so much trust a fugitive can place in people who know that a fortune could be theirs for turning him in. Sooner or later, someone might decide that P50 million is a better deal. Where, then, will Bato find the money to keep everyone loyal?
Bato’s demands for fairness, due process and personal safety are telling. They amount to an implicit indictment of the very police force tasked with bringing him to justice. Does he no longer trust the institution he once headed? Is he suggesting that the police cannot be trusted to act fairly? Or is he afraid that his life might be in danger in their hands?
If so, his fears are not entirely unfounded. After all, this is largely the same police force that implemented the bloody drug war he helped lead. How ironic. The very institution that reportedly used a reward system to incentivize Tokhang operations is now conducting a manhunt for a fugitive whose arrest comes with a substantial bounty. Authorities are disqualified from collecting the reward because arresting him is simply part of their job. But in a country where people have found ways around all sorts of rules, it would be wishful thinking to assume that nobody will try to find a way around this one.
If Bato genuinely wants due process, believes in his innocence and fears for his safety, then the most sensible course of action is to surrender to the authorities. He cannot demand the protection of the law while doing everything in his power to evade it. And if he is worried about his health and safety, the ICC detention facility in The Hague is hardly the hell he might want Filipinos to imagine. Just look at his former boss, Digong. He appears healthier than before.
More importantly, if Bato wants a fair opportunity to prove his innocence, the ICC offers a forum whose independence is less vulnerable to the political pressures and patronage networks that have long plagued our broken justice system. It cannot simply be bent to the will of political dynasties, intimidated by armed groups or made to operate according to the whims of political patrons. Its independence is precisely what makes it a threat to those accustomed to wielding power without answering for the consequences.
And here lies the problem. Bato’s sudden devotion to fairness and due process rings hollow coming from someone who helped lead a campaign in which thousands were killed without anything resembling a fair hearing. If he truly believes in the principles he now invokes, he should stop hiding and face the charges against him. That would mean submitting himself to a process his camp cannot control, a court his allies cannot intimidate and a judgment he cannot dictate.
This is what Bato fears most. Not the P50-million bounty. Not even the prospect of detention in The Hague. But the possibility that, for once, neither his political connections nor their old tricks will be enough to save him.