Public service is a public trust. We are all accountable.
In the Philippine Senate, a quiet but pointed argument has surfaced about the oldest of civic obligations: showing up. Senator JV Ejercito has called on his absent colleague Ronald Dela Rosa — who has not appeared in the chamber since November 2025, sheltering from an International Criminal Court warrant tied to alleged extrajudicial killings under the Duterte drug war — to forfeit the salary he has continued to collect. The appeal is grounded not in legal precedent but in moral symmetry: that those entrusted with public power must answer to the same standards of accountability they ask of ordinary citizens.
- Dela Rosa has missed 31 of 58 roll calls in the current Congress, drawing a salary while evading an ICC arrest warrant linking him to killings carried out when he led the Philippine National Police.
- Ejercito's 'no work, no pay' challenge cuts to a deeper wound — the perception that elected officials operate above the rules that govern everyone else.
- A civil society complaint, filed by former Finance Undersecretary Cielo Magno, has forced the Senate to confront the absence formally, but the chamber currently lacks binding rules to compel attendance or withhold pay.
- The Senate Ethics Committee has just approved its operational rules, finally enabling it to hold hearings, evaluate complaints, and pursue disciplinary action against sitting senators.
- With Duterte himself detained at The Hague and named as Dela Rosa's co-conspirator, the Senate's next moves will signal whether Philippine institutions can hold their own accountable under international scrutiny.
On a Tuesday in late April, Senator JV Ejercito rose in the Senate chamber with a straightforward demand: Ronald Dela Rosa, absent since November 2025, should stop collecting a paycheck. The argument was simple — no work, no pay — the same rule that governs every construction worker, every contractual employee, every ordinary Filipino who misses time on the job.
Dela Rosa's absence is not ordinary. An International Criminal Court arrest warrant hangs over him, issued in connection with his alleged role in extrajudicial killings carried out during Rodrigo Duterte's drug war, when Dela Rosa served as chief of the Philippine National Police. Duterte himself is now detained at The Hague, charged with crimes against humanity, with Dela Rosa named as a co-conspirator.
The complaint pushing the Senate to act came from a civil society group led by Cielo Magno, a former finance undersecretary. The attendance record was damning in its plainness: fifty-eight roll calls taken, four senators with perfect attendance, and Dela Rosa with thirty-one absences.
Ejercito, who chairs the Senate Ethics Committee, was candid about the institution's limits. No existing rule could compel a senator to appear or strip his pay. Any real enforcement would require new mechanisms, deliberation, and consensus — the slow grind of institutional reform.
But something had shifted. The Ethics Committee had just approved its governing rules, clearing the way for formal hearings and disciplinary proceedings against senators for the first time. The machinery was beginning to move. Whether it would move fast enough — or with enough force — to hold one of its own accountable remained the open question.
Senator JV Ejercito stood before the chamber on a Tuesday in late April and made a simple argument: if Ronald Dela Rosa will not show up to work, he should not collect a paycheck.
Dela Rosa, his colleague in the Senate, had been absent since November 2025. An arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court hung over him—issued because of his alleged role in killings carried out during the drug war when he served as chief of the Philippine National Police under former president Rodrigo Duterte. Duterte himself now sits detained in The Hague, charged with crimes against humanity. Dela Rosa had been named as his co-conspirator.
Ejercito's appeal was rooted in a principle most working Filipinos know intimately: no work, no pay. It seemed only fair, he argued, that public servants answer to the same rule. "Public service is a public trust," Ejercito said in a statement. "We are all accountable to the people we serve." The logic was straightforward. If a construction worker misses three months on the job, he loses his wages. Why should a senator be different?
The complaint against Dela Rosa had come from a civil society group led by Cielo Magno, a former undersecretary of finance, who objected to his prolonged absence from official duties. The numbers told the story plainly: in the first regular session of the 20th Congress, fifty-eight roll calls had been taken. Four senators achieved perfect attendance. Dela Rosa recorded thirty-one absences.
Yet Ejercito, who chairs the Senate Committee on Ethics and Privileges, acknowledged the institutional reality. The Senate had not yet established rules with teeth—mechanisms that could actually compel a senator to attend. Any formal action would require amendments and deliberation. "The Senate has yet to establish rules that can compel his attendance," Ejercito noted, speaking in Filipino. It was a recognition that the chamber's machinery moved slowly, bound by procedure and the need for consensus.
What had changed, though, was the Ethics Committee itself. Its members had just approved the rules governing its operation, clearing the way for the panel to finally function. The rules were set for publication. This meant the committee could now conduct hearings on complaints filed against senators, evaluate those complaints, and move toward disciplinary action. The machinery, in other words, was beginning to turn.
The question hanging over the Senate was not whether Dela Rosa had a right to his salary—the law was silent on that. The question was whether the institution would find the will to act, and whether the rules it was now putting in place would be enough to hold one of its own accountable.
Notable Quotes
Public service is a public trust, we are all accountable to the people we serve.— Senator JV Ejercito
The Senate has yet to establish rules that can compel his attendance, though any formal action will require amendments and proper deliberation.— Senator JV Ejercito
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does Ejercito think Dela Rosa should give up his salary? Is there a legal mechanism to force it?
Ejercito's argument is moral rather than legal—he's saying that if you don't work, you shouldn't be paid, and that principle should apply to senators as much as anyone else. But no, there's no mechanism yet. The Senate hasn't written rules that can actually compel attendance or withhold pay.
So Dela Rosa could theoretically keep collecting his salary indefinitely?
That's the gap. He's been absent since November—five months—and there's no formal rule stopping him from drawing his paycheck. That's what's infuriating people. The civil society complaint forced the issue into the open.
What about the ICC warrant? Does that change anything legally in the Philippines?
Not directly. The warrant is real, and Duterte is in custody in The Hague. But Dela Rosa is still a sitting senator. The Philippines hasn't arrested him or removed him. He's simply absent, which is a different legal problem.
Is the Ethics Committee actually going to do something now?
They've just approved their operating rules, so yes, they can now hold hearings and evaluate complaints. But Ejercito was careful to say it will take time. These things move through deliberation and amendment. The machinery is starting, but it's not fast.
What does Dela Rosa say about all this?
He hasn't responded publicly in the source material. He's simply absent. That silence is part of the story—he's not defending himself, not explaining, just not there.