“We don’t want little fish. We want the big fish. We want people to be held accountable.”

These are not the words of a seasoned politician or a radical activist. They are the words of an ordinary, private citizen, a “mommy” who, like many, has become fed up with the endless cycle of corruption and impunity. Her anger, captured in a recent viral clip, reflects a simmering rage that is bubbling to the surface of Philippine society. The public is tired of scapegoats. They are demanding the heads of the true masterminds.

At the center of this public fury is a figure known as “Zaldo,” an individual believed to be at the heart of a massive scandal, who is currently out of the country. The demands are clear and specific: “We want Sal’s passport canceled. We want him to come home. We want him to testify.”

This demand for accountability is not happening in a vacuum. It is directly linked to the tangible suffering of the people. “All you need to do is look at all the people who’ve died in Cebu. All you need to do is look at all the people whose houses have flooded,” the citizen declared, her voice heavy with frustration. The implication is stark: while billions are allegedly plundered, ordinary Filipinos are paying the price with their homes, their livelihoods, and their lives.

This rising public anger is colliding with a series of explosive political and legal dramas, leading many to question what is real and what is a diversion. As the nation finds itself gripped by talks of ICC warrants and alleged destabilization plots, a far larger, multi-trillion-peso flood control scandal is raging in the background. And with it, a deeply suspicious death that threatens to blow the lid off the entire affair.

The Sinister Silence: A Scandal and a “Suicide”
Just as public scrutiny intensifies, a high-ranking DPWH official allegedly involved in the flood control scandal has reportedly committed suicide. This news has been met with widespread skepticism and suspicion. Critics and commentators are openly questioning the official narrative, suggesting that this may not be a simple tragedy but a “power play” to silence a key witness.

“Nagpatiwakal ba talaga ‘yan o talagang ginurgor ‘yan?” (Did he really kill himself, or was his throat slit?) one commentator bluntly asked, capturing the dark speculation running rampant. The fear is that a “cleansing” is underway—a sinister effort to eliminate those who could “point to the big guys” and expose the full extent of the rot. This death, whether by his own hand or another’s, effectively silences a person of interest who could have been crucial in getting to the truth.

This is the scandal many believe the administration wants to bury. And, they argue, what better way to do it than to create a multi-front circus of distractions?

Distraction 1: The “Bag on the Go” Destabilization Plot
The first alleged diversion comes from the administration’s own online defenders. Pro-Marcos vloggers have begun circulating “latest intel” about a supposed destabilization plot codenamed “Operation: Bag on the Go.” This operation, allegedly planned for November 16-18, is being pinned on allies of former President Rodrigo Duterte and supporters of Vice President Sara Duterte.

Critics immediately dismissed this as a transparent fear-mongering tactic. They see it as a desperate attempt to reframe legitimate dissent as a treasonous conspiracy. The host of the commentary program scoffed at the “intel,” accusing the vlogger of being “paldo” (well-paid) by the administration.

The response from the public is not a call for a coup, but a call for competence. Many are simply demanding that the president resign, not through force, but by recognizing his own alleged incompetence (“inutil”). Barring that, they are willing to wait for the 2028 election. This “destabilization” narrative, critics argue, is a flimsy excuse to crack down on a public that is justifiably angry about corruption and mismanagement.

Distraction 2: The ICC Legal Firestorm
The second, and far more complex, distraction is the sudden and chaotic revival of the International Criminal Court (ICC) issue, this time aimed squarely at Senator Ronald “Bato” de la Rosa.

The firestorm was ignited by Ombudsman Samuel Remulla, who publicly announced that his office was in possession of an ICC warrant for the senator. This single announcement has triggered a cascade of legal and political chaos, which Senator de la Rosa’s lawyer, Atty. Isra Rita Torreon, is now meticulously dismantling.

In a blistering legal critique, Atty. Torreon accuses the Ombudsman of a massive overreach and a shocking breach of international protocol.

“I have to agree… unique talaga itong ombudsman natin ngayon,” Torreon stated, noting that the Ombudsman’s office is constitutionally mandated to be reactive—to act on complaints filed against public officials. It is not, she argues, a proactive enforcement agency like the police or the Department of Justice (DOJ).

More damningly, she accuses Remulla of violating the ICC’s own rules of confidentiality. “Yang mga applications for warrants and warrant itself kung sealed pa ito… hindi ito pwede i-disclose unless allowed by the justices themselves,” she explained.

This raises a host of disturbing questions:

Did Remulla get permission from the ICC judges? If so, it implies a level of coordination that undermines the ICC’s integrity.

If not, how did he get the document? How does the Ombudsman have a copy when the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA), the DOJ, and even the ICC’s own spokesperson deny any knowledge of a warrant?

“It affects the integrity of the ICC processes,” Torreon warned. “Paano nangyari yun? Na isang opisyal na wala namang kinalaman doon sa pag-implement ng warrant… nagkaroon ng kopya.”

A Legal Vacuum and Fears of a “Kidnapping”
Atty. Torreon further argues that the entire legal framework for such an arrest is a “procedural void.” She asserts that any attempt to arrest Senator Bato under the current circumstances would be patently “illegal,” just as she argues a previous (hypothetical) arrest of former President Duterte was.

The legal standing, she explains, is non-existent:

Extradition (PD 1069): This law only applies to requests between states. The ICC is not a state.

Surrender (RA 9851 or Rome Statute Art. 59): There are no Implementing Rules and Regulations (IRR) for this. No one has defined the process.

“Ano ba itong competent judicial authority na ito?” Torreon challenged. “MTC ba o RTC ba or Court of Appeals ba?” Without these rules, any arrest would violate the most fundamental right in the Philippine Constitution: Article 3, Section 1, the right to due process of law.

This legal and procedural chaos has led to dark speculation. The administration’s “sabog” (scattered) messaging—with the Ombudsman saying one thing and the DFA/DOJ another—is seen by some not as incompetence, but as a deliberate strategy.

The fear, as voiced by Torreon and other critics, is that the public denials are a ruse to lull Senator Bato into a false sense of security. They worry the government will then “kidnap” him—arrest him without a valid local warrant—and immediately spirit him away to The Hague, bypassing the entire Philippine judicial system.

The Ultimate Diversion
Atty. Torreon was unequivocal about the motive behind this sudden legal drama. She, along with many others, sees it as a “diversionary tactic” plain and simple.

“Ginawa na naman itong issue,” she stated, “para ma-divert yung atensyon ng mga tao doon sa grabe, trilyon na corrupsyon sa flood control projects.”

The picture being painted is one of a government buried in a scandal of its own making, desperately creating a three-ring circus to draw the public’s eyes away from the real crime. The leadership is described as “sabog,” incapable of even harmonizing the voices of its own top agencies.

As for Senator Bato, Atty. Torreon confirms she is in contact with his family and is taking all necessary legal steps to protect his rights. But she is fighting an administration that critics believe has no respect for due process.

The Filipino people are now caught in a dangerous crosscurrent. In one hand, they hold a righteous demand for accountability for the “big fish” in a massive, ongoing corruption scandal. In the other, they are being forced to watch a chaotic political drama unfold, aimed at settling old scores. The ultimate question remains: Will the demand for present-day justice be drowned out by the noise of past political wars?