Show up or ship out
A senator suddenly vanishing from view and abdicating his job as a lawmaker to evade the law—while still getting his salary and benefits—is not a novel situation. It has happened before in this country, and that now nearly-forgotten experience can offer lessons on how to resolve the impasse.
During the Macapagal Arroyo administration, then Sen. Panfilo “Ping” Lacson went into hiding from January 2010 to March 2011, after he was accused of being behind the murders of publicist Salvador “Bubby” Dacer and his driver, Emmanuel Corbito, in 2000.
Lacson, a fierce critic of then President Gloria Macagapal Arroyo, said the charges were false and were meant to persecute him. He then disappeared for 14 months, successfully evading arrest even with his passport canceled and an International Criminal Police Organization red notice on his head.
Lacson reappeared only a month after the Court of Appeals, in February 2011, reversed the finding of probable cause by the Manila Regional Trial Court against him.
But in that absence of more than a year, when Lacson effectively abandoned his job as a senator, was he still receiving his salary and emoluments? It would seem so, because it was only in October 2010 that the Commission on Audit (COA) moved to force the Senate, then led by Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile, to stop all payments to his office and close it.
Basic injustice
Specifically, the COA pointed out that Lacson’s absence meant he could not personally certify expenses incurred by his office, which continued to run and generate maintenance and other operating charges. As reported in this paper, the senators then reportedly “unanimously” decided to shutter Lacson’s office and withdraw its funding.
It was a tardy gesture by any measure, costing the country over six months of wasted funds to a fugitive lawmaker, but it did show that something could be done to redress the basic injustice of a public servant still getting paid his salary despite going on the lam.
Perhaps, in the interest of both fundamental fairness and fiscal prudence, the COA can once again step in—much earlier this time—and demand that the Senate resolve the case of Sen. Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa, who has been absent from the Senate floor since Nov. 11 last year?
Dela Rosa ducked from view after then Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla said that the International Criminal Court had issued an arrest warrant for his role as former police chief and main enforcer of the Duterte administration’s bloody drug war.
Double standards
Dela Rosa had previously said he would consider taking refuge in the Senate premises, which would prevent authorities from arresting him. But even that option has apparently been abandoned, with neither hide nor hair of Dela Rosa seen for two months now.
With his absence, Dela Rosa failed to participate in any way in the crafting of the 2026 national budget. He was the designated sponsor for the Department of National Defense, and also a Senate representative to the bicameral committee that hammered out the 2026 General Appropriations Act. But because he was a no-show, he was remiss in that responsibility.
If he were any other government employee, Dela Rosa’s prolonged disappearance from work would have been dealt with severely by now. The Alliance of Concerned Teachers reflects the sentiments of many frustrated citizens when it calls on the Senate to strip Dela Rosa of his salary and privileges. His actions, they contend, are a “brazen dereliction of duty” and an “abuse of privilege.”
But, in a seeming case of double standards just as brazen, the Senate is hemming and hawing on imposing any kind of disciplinary action on its truant member. According to Senate President Vicente “Tito” Sotto III, they cannot compel a colleague to come to work. “To each his own—that’s how it is. He chooses not to come in, but his office is still functioning,” he said.
Sense of impunity
Well then, it’s time for the COA to redeploy its Lacson maneuver and demand that Dela Rosa surface and personally account for the expenses of his office, or face its closure.
Those expenses are not inconsiderable. Dela Rosa’s post as senator ranks him as Salary Grade 31, meaning his annual salary is roughly P3.5 million (about P293,191 to P334,059 per month), not including other allowances for work in committees and other benefits. According to an Inquirer report, it costs taxpayers P48.3 million a month to run a senator’s office.
That is precious public money now being lavished on an AWOL (absent without official leave) lawmaker—when millions of ordinary Filipino citizens can never get away with performing such a similar stunt at work.
Dela Rosa’s irresponsibility and sense of impunity in absconding from his duties are a disservice to the people. It is also a test on the Senate: Will it continue to protect one of its own, or will it, for once, side with the citizenry’s interests and command Dela Rosa to respect his mandate and the public resources being spent on him by showing up—or just quitting for good if he plans to make being on the run his main job?
