“For Dela Rosa, the stakes are existential.”
The Philippines is bracing for a high-stakes battle between two political titans: Leila de Lima and Senator Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa. Once imprisoned on charges she claimed were politically motivated, De Lima is now poised to seek justice against the very architect of Duterte’s bloody drug war. It’s a confrontation that goes beyond personal vendettas—it could reshape the nation’s political and legal landscape.
Kerwin Espinosa, a confessed drug lord, has set this battle in motion with explosive testimony before the House Quad Committee. He alleges that in 2016, Dela Rosa coerced him into implicating De Lima in the drug trade, using his father’s violent death as leverage. Espinosa’s father, a former mayor, was killed under suspicious circumstances in prison—a death that casts a dark shadow over Duterte’s administration and its alleged role in extrajudicial killings.
De Lima, a former Human Rights Commissioner and Justice Secretary, was one of Duterte’s fiercest critics, openly challenging his war on drugs. In response, the administration struck back. De Lima was accused of accepting bribes from drug lords, a narrative spun from testimonies of convicted criminals. Her imprisonment for six years and eight months became a symbol of Duterte’s ruthless political retribution. But now, with Espinosa’s revelations, the tables may be turning. The focus shifts away from De Lima’s alleged crimes to the actions of Dela Rosa, a key player in Duterte’s anti-drug crusade.
Dela Rosa, the police chief turned senator, was the enforcer of Duterte’s brutal campaign that left thousands dead under dubious circumstances. His loyalty to Duterte is unquestioned, and his political survival hinges on defending the former president’s legacy. But Espinosa’s claims could threaten not only Dela Rosa’s career but his personal freedom. As De Lima contemplates filing charges, Dela Rosa finds himself on the defensive.
Espinosa’s testimony is damning, but it’s not without its complications. Dela Rosa has been quick to discredit Espinosa, dismissing him as a liar whose criminal background renders his accusations untrustworthy. It’s a familiar defense tactic: undermine the accuser to invalidate the allegations. Dela Rosa insists the Philippine National Police (PNP) had no role in building the case against De Lima, shifting the responsibility onto the Department of Justice.
Yet, one critical point stands out: Espinosa’s account of a conversation in a vehicle where Dela Rosa allegedly threatened him with his father’s fate. If this incident can be substantiated, it could spell trouble for Dela Rosa. Under Philippine law, threatening a witness is a serious crime, punishable by imprisonment and disqualification from public office.
De Lima’s potential legal offensive against Dela Rosa could unfold along several avenues. Espinosa’s testimony, if corroborated, might expose Dela Rosa to charges of witness tampering, obstruction of justice, and abuse of authority. Under the Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act, using one’s official position to manipulate testimony is a grave offense. Moreover, the alleged coercion, tied to a campaign marred by human rights abuses, could open the door to a broader investigation into Dela Rosa’s role in Duterte’s drug war.
But Dela Rosa isn’t without recourse. His defense will likely rest on discrediting Espinosa, arguing that the drug lord’s testimony is a fabrication, possibly orchestrated for political purposes ahead of the 2025 elections. Dela Rosa may also emphasize procedural gaps in the case, pointing out that the PNP had no direct involvement in the DOJ’s investigation of De Lima. In defending himself, Dela Rosa might invoke past Supreme Court rulings that warn against relying too heavily on the testimony of compromised witnesses. The landmark case of People v. Webb serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of convictions based on uncorroborated witness statements.
As this legal battle unfolds, its political ramifications cannot be overstated. Both De Lima and Dela Rosa are likely to vie for positions in the 2025 midterm elections. For De Lima, this case is more than a personal pursuit of justice; it’s a chance to restore her political legacy. A victory in court could elevate her from a figure of persecution to one of moral triumph. But the risks are equally high. If her case falters, the narrative of her guilt—crafted by Duterte’s allies—will harden.
For Dela Rosa, the stakes are existential. A conviction could not only end his political career but also expose him and other Duterte loyalists to further legal scrutiny. A loss for Dela Rosa could signal the unraveling of Duterte’s drug war, a campaign already under fire from human rights advocates and international observers. The outcome of this case might fracture Duterte’s political coalition, potentially affecting the 2028 presidential race.
The stakes go beyond individual reputations. This case will test the independence of the Philippine judiciary, as it grapples with accusations of political interference and institutional corruption. The government faces a critical decision: whether to ensure impartiality or risk further eroding public trust.
For De Lima, the path forward is clear but fraught with challenges. She must build a case that goes beyond Espinosa’s testimony, focusing on systemic abuses within Duterte’s war on drugs. For Dela Rosa, the strategy will be to emphasize the credibility issues surrounding Espinosa and lean on procedural defenses. For the Philippine public, this trial offers an opportunity to demand accountability and transparency—values that have long been eroded under Duterte’s rule.
Ultimately, the resolution of this case will not only determine the fates of De Lima and Dela Rosa but also shape the future of justice in the Philippines. The nation waits, its political and legal foundations hanging in the balance.
