CHICKENPIE.The van pulled up to the Senate exit just as the warrant was arriving from The Hague. Perfect timing. Too perfect.
Senator Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa — the man who built the drug war that killed thousands in living rooms, back alleys, and concrete stairwells across this country — needed a ride. The PNP obliged. Full escort. No hesitation. No visible irony.
Let that land.
The institution he once commanded personally arranged his exit strategy. Not a detainment. Not a formal hearing. A motorcade out of the building, away from the people trying to account for the bodies. The kind of exit that requires coordination, radio traffic, pre-positioned vehicles, and a decision made by someone above them to say yes.
The Solicitor General’s office filed papers with the Supreme Court that same week insisting — direct quote — “No one is above the law.”
Bato, presumably, was already in traffic.
Here’s what the van communicates, whether anyone says it out loud or not: accountability is for civilians. The PNP — still, after every commission report and every human rights filing and every count of every name — takes care of its own. This is not a new message. It’s a repeated one. Which is worse.
The ICC exists precisely because some countries decided, decades ago, that there are crimes severe enough to survive any domestic immunity arrangement. The Philippines signed that treaty. Then unsigned it. Then entered a new arrangement. The courts are still arguing over jurisdiction. The clock is still running.
The van doesn’t need jurisdiction. The van just drives.
What’s notable — not darkly funny, just notable — is that nobody in that escort convoy was pretending. They knew what it looked like. Everyone watching knew. The optics weren’t incidental. The optics were the message: this is how it goes, and we will do it in plain sight.
Outrage is a reaction. Memory is a tool.
The Senate will review footage. The PNP will review dispatch logs. The ICC will continue its timeline. The bureaucratic machinery of accountability grinds forward at its usual pace — the same pace it’s always moved, which is slower than a van with a police escort and a head start.
Mr. Chicken is not outraged. He has a very good memory.
