THERE is yet another reason, because apparently the list is not long enough, why Sara Duterte has demonstrated herself unfit to be vice president and, by logical extension, unfit to aspire to the presidency.
This is not merely about policy disagreements or political theatrics. It cuts deeper. It is about judgment, or the lack of it. It is about temperament, instinct and the revealing choices a
leader makes when confronted with conflict: whom they confront, how they respond and what they choose to ignore.
Leadership is often romanticized as calm and composed. But its true measure emerges in moments of anger. In those flashes of temper, a leader’s character is laid bare. And in those moments, Sara Duterte has been nothing if not transparent.
We have seen her unleash torrents of invective against political opponents with theatrical zeal. These were not disciplined critiques but raw, personal eruptions. She has hurled curses as though governance were a street brawl rather than a public trust.
More troubling, she has issued explicit threats against the president, the first lady, and the former speaker of the House. These were not slips of the tongue but statements delivered with conviction. It was anger weaponized, not restrained.
The spectacle was impossible to ignore. Her rage dominated headlines and revealed her capacity for fury. If leadership were measured by volume and intimidation, she would excel. But governance demands more.
And yet, for all this energy directed inward, there exists a silence so deafening it borders on complicity.
Not once has she shown the same fury toward China. Not when Philippine vessels were blasted with water cannons in the West Philippine Sea. Not when Filipino sailors were targeted with military-grade lasers. Not when Filipino fishers were harassed and driven away from their own waters.
One might expect at least a hint of outrage. Instead, what we saw was restraint so complete it was nearly invisible. Even when Chinese miscreants turned us into AI-caricaturized monkeys, there was no comparable reaction. No defense of Filipino dignity. Just silence.
As Chinese vessels continued their incursions into Philippine waters, her response remained muted. The consistency is striking, and troubling.
So where was the anger then? Where was the outrage?
These are not rhetorical questions. They go to the heart of leadership. It is about choosing when to become angry, and when silence becomes a statement.
Instead of condemnation, there was careful calibration. Sara Duterte has emphasized maintaining friendly relations with China, as though diplomacy required deference. She has exercised caution with a foreign power that challenges Philippine sovereignty, while reserving her harshest rhetoric and actions for fellow Filipinos.
Diplomacy is not inherently wrong. Nations must balance interests and avoid unnecessary escalation. But diplomacy must be anchored in principle, and requires consistency.
Diplomacy does not demand silence in the face of repeated affronts. It does not justify abandoning national dignity. It does not excuse a leader who mauls her own sheriff who was just doing his job while avoiding confrontation with a foreign power that water-cannons our ships.
The contrast is glaring. It invites scrutiny from critics and citizens alike. A leader’s anger is a signal. It reveals what they value and what they are willing to defend. When anger is directed inward, it deepens divisions. When it is absent in the face of external threats, it suggests acquiescence, or worse, a betrayal of public trust.
The Philippines does not need a leader who rages because her beloved chief of staff was detained by the House of Representatives and is being transferred to a different detention facility, but remains restrained even if we are imaged by some Chinese as monkeys. It does not need someone who threatens to kill the president while tiptoeing around those who challenge national sovereignty.
What it needs is leadership that is steady, principled and consistent. Leadership that understands strength is not measured by volume, but by resolve. It needs a leader who can balance diplomacy with dignity. Someone who recognizes that silence, when misapplied, is not prudence but abdication.
Sara Duterte has shown us where her anger lies, and where it does not. That contrast is telling. And if this pattern continues, it will not merely be a matter of poor optics but a profound failure of duty. Rather than appearing strategic, such restraint invites the suspicion that national interest is being subordinated to partisan biases and personal affinities.
Filipinos are left to ask whether assaults on our sovereignty deserve less indignation than the detention of Zuleika Lopez. Such a posture confuses caution with capitulation, creates a hierarchy of outrage where fellow citizens become fair game while foreign aggressors are spared, and exposes a dangerous asymmetry that weakens the country’s moral and strategic position.
Such conduct diminishes confidence in her ability to defend Philippine interests on the global stage, signals to adversaries that pressure will be met with passivity rather than resolve, and emboldens those who would test the limits of Filipino patience and sovereignty. It erodes the credibility of any claim to nationalist leadership, betrays a failure to grasp the gravity of external threats, and reflects a mindset that places expedience above principle.
The result is a nation left more vulnerable to further encroachments, while legitimate concerns grow over whether she can be trusted to stand firm when it matters most. Future crises could well be handled according to political convenience rather than the demands of national interest.
More importantly, this pattern underscores the urgent need for leaders who will unequivocally defend Philippine sovereignty with clarity, courage and consistency. It also highlights the importance of accountability in public office, reminds citizens that vigilance remains essential in safeguarding democratic institutions, and calls for a renewed commitment to transparency and principled governance. True leadership ultimately demands not only conviction, but the consistency to apply that conviction whether confronting domestic rivals or foreign powers.
As Filipinos consider their future leadership, they should remember this pattern. In the end, it is not how loudly a leader speaks, but when, and for whom, they choose to use their anger.
The author is a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the board of state-run PTVNI.
