Who can now un-see Bato de la Rosa scampering up the stairs, stumbling, and then resuming his mad dash to the Senate plenary hall to escape from pursuing arresting officers?
It was a scene straight out of Looney Tunes show, made funnier by the fact that the senator is a burly and bald tough guy who, only months earlier, dared anyone to “come and get him.” The National Bureau of Investigations (NBI) tried yesterday and what transpired was the worst that could ever happen to a toughie with a macho veneer to protect.
As he emerged at the Senate plenary hall after his sprint that could have given Lydia de Vega a run for her money, Bato took no time in recommencing his bruiser image and launched into an outburst at the gallery, thundering he shouldn’t be asked why he suddenly made an appearance after six months of being absent in the Senate.
He then claimed that the injury on his left hand was the result of “wrestling” with the NBI operatives whom he successfully eluded. It turned out that, according to an eyewitness account, de la Rosa only gestured threateningly (“umamba”) at the NBI agents and, after successfully making them recoil, turned tail and ran for it. It led to the most famous CCTV footage in the history of the 110-year-old Senate. There was no wrestling. What happened was an entirely different sports event: a 100-meter dash, albeit up some stairs and through some doors.
That the once-august halls of the Senate had been reduced to the likes of de la Rosa and his antics is befuddling. The upper house of Congress used to be dominated by statesmen – like Claro M. Recto, Lorenzo Tanada and Jose Diokno – who embodied brilliance, integrity and nationalism. Or like Roseller Lim who filibustered for 18 hours and 30 minutes to prevent the election of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. as Senate President. Or like the “Magnificent 12” who voted to end the US-Philippines Military Bases Agreement in 1991 despite going against Imperialist America and a popular President Corazon Aquino who marched from Rizal Park to the Senate to pressure her friends in the Senate to change their minds. Or the like of Rene Saguisag who refused a certain second term because he promised he’d only be a senator once.
As a second-term senator, de la Rosa has a forgettable record. He is only known for two things: being habitually driven to tears by youth and student leaders whenever his human rights record as a police officer is mentioned, and his dog-like devotion to International Criminal Court detention (ICC) detention center occupant Rodrigo Duterte. Whenever he attempts to join plenary debates, his arguments were so simplistic these would have made the late Miriam Defensor Santiago roll her eyes and throw her hands in the air in frustration. Or walk out in disgust.
For sure, de la Rosa, who goes by the monicker “Bato” (stone) due probably to the fact that he looks like a boulder, is in good company in the current Senate. He is allied with others who like to linger at the bottom of the intellectual barrel, such as Robin Padilla and Christopher Lawrence Go. In fact, hard-to-believe it may be, Padilla appears to be even more bereft of any cerebral capacity than Bato, as proven by his latest assertion that a minority bloc member’s role is to oppose anything that comes from the majority. Bong Go is not much different as he perks up only when he talks about old man Duterte, nothing else. The Villar siblings are just as dumb, err, mute, on the Senate floor, interested only in protecting their clan’s wealth, more than contributing anything substantial to the open debates.
Reports have it the de la Rosa spent last night inside the Senate premises after having been given protection by newly-installed Senate President Alan Peter Cayetano. A picture of him alone at the plenary hall circulated late at night; no one among his allies delivered on their promise to accompany him in a vigil. He also said he filed a petition before the Supreme Court, seeking help to stay in the country, instead of taking the chance of providing company to old man Rodrigo who had been alone in The Hague for more than a year already.
It is unlikely that Bato would leave the Senate premises in the near future, even to answer a summons by his beloved Philippine National Police later this week. With the ICC unsealing its arrest warrant against him, it is now going down to a test of will and patience.
Bato’s problem is that the ICC warrant will not be taken back, even if he manages to wrangle any favorable ruling from local courts. ICC’s order will always be there and can only be resolved in two ways: Bato’s arrest or his demise, whichever comes first. # (Raymund B. Villanueva)
