The image of Senator Ronald “Bato” Dela Rosa has always been one of unshakeable toughness. As the former chief of the Philippine National Police and the face of the previous administration’s aggressive anti-narcotics campaign, he projected an aura of fearlessness. He was the “Rock”—solid, immovable, and ready to take on any challenge. However, recent events have painted a starkly different picture, one that suggests the rock might be cracking under immense pressure. Reports and observations from political critics indicate that the senator has been noticeably absent from the public eye for over a month, leading to widespread speculation that he is gripped by a profound fear of an impending International Criminal Court (ICC) warrant.

The controversy reached a boiling point when former Senator Antonio Trillanes IV, a long-time vocal critic of the Duterte administration, announced his intention to file an ethics complaint against Dela Rosa. The grounds? Dereliction of duty. Trillanes pointed out the glaring double standard: ordinary Filipino workers face termination for just a couple of days of unexcused absence, yet a high-ranking senator has been “Missing in Action” (MIA) for weeks while still presumably drawing a salary funded by taxpayers. This absence coincides suspiciously with statements from the Ombudsman regarding the existence of an ICC warrant, a development that seems to have sent the once-boisterous senator into hiding.

The narrative of the “tough guy” crumbling is gaining traction on social media and political circles. Commentators are having a field day contrasting Dela Rosa’s past bravado with his current behavior. The video analysis suggests that Bato, who once mocked critics and told them to “bring it on,” is now acting more like a “marshmallow”—soft and retreating. The fear is palpable. The looming threat of international justice, which operates outside the protective sphere of local Philippine politics, appears to be a reality that the senator is struggling to face. Unlike local cases where political alliances can often shield officials, the ICC represents a force that is harder to negotiate with or evade.

Adding salt to the wound is the biting commentary from Trillanes, who suggested that Dela Rosa should just surrender and join former President Rodrigo Duterte in The Hague. “They can keep each other company,” Trillanes quipped, implying that the two architects of the controversial drug war are destined to face the same fate. This rhetoric highlights a potential shift in the political landscape where the “shield” that once protected these figures is evaporating. The current administration’s stance of not blocking the ICC, combined with the “laglagan” (dropping of allies) that often happens in Philippine politics, has likely contributed to the senator’s anxiety. He may feel isolated, realizing that the political winds have shifted and he is now exposed.

The situation also raises serious questions about accountability and public service. If a senator can vanish for a month because of personal legal fears, what does that say about their commitment to the mandate given by the people? The potential expulsion from the Senate is a serious matter. It would strip him of his platform and his remaining political cover. The comparison to former Senator Leila de Lima is also being drawn; she faced her accusers and spent years in detention, eventually being cleared. Critics are now challenging Bato to show the same courage he demanded of others.

As the days turn into weeks without a public appearance from Senator Dela Rosa, the speculation will only grow louder. Is he truly hiding? Is he negotiating? or is he paralyzed by the realization that his past actions are finally catching up to him? The “writing is on the wall,” and for a man who built his career on being the toughest enforcer, the prospect of being rendered powerless in an international detention cell must be a terrifying thought. The Filipino public is watching closely, waiting to see if the “Rock” will stand his ground or crumble into dust.