There was plenty to question about the prosecution’s firearms presentation at the impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte on Sept. 28. The comments about flirtation, voice and femininity answered a different question altogether.
There was a perfectly legitimate argument for San Juan Rep. Ysabel Maria “Bel” Zamora’s direct examination. Did a police records officer’s testimony on the firearms registered to the VP and her husband, lawyer Manases Carpio, actually help prove the prosecution’s allegation of unexplained wealth? Was the evidence tied closely enough to Duterte’s statement of assets, liabilities and net worth (SALN)? And were the values being discussed useful in establishing that allegation?
Senator-judges themselves raised versions of those questions. Police Maj. Joericson Sangalang of the Philippine National Police Firearms and Explosives Office testified that Duterte had 22 registered firearms and her husband had 29, with their estimated current market value placed at about ₱7.2 million. The presiding officer, Francis Escudero, questioned the weight of the testimony and eventually told the prosecution to abbreviate the examination. Defense counsel called Sangalang an “irrelevant witness.”
When Zamora asked whether it was appropriate for a VP to have 22 firearms, the defense objected that the question called for speculation. The objection was sustained.
Those are arguments about evidence, relevance and trial technique. They are precisely the kinds of arguments an impeachment court should invite. None requires deciding whether Zamora sounds flirtatious.
When the argument left the evidence
The criticism was not confined to Zamora’s handling of the witness.
Clips of her direct examination circulated widely online, and attention shifted to her manner of speaking: her cadence, pronunciation, facial expressions and the fact that she smiled while questioning Sangalang. Media outlets reported that she drew misogynistic remarks after clips of the examination went viral, and likewise reported criticism directed specifically at the way she spoke during the trial.
Zamora herself described some of what she had been reading. In an interview on One News’ Political Beat, she referred to people calling the way she spoke “malandi” or flirtatious. She rejected the idea that she had anything to apologize for.
“I will not apologize for how I speak,” she said.
There is a distinction worth preserving here, particularly in a proceeding as politically charged as an impeachment trial.
Zamora’s performance during the direct examination was open to scrutiny. The defense successfully objected when she asked Sangalang whether it was appropriate for the VP to own 22 firearms, with the impeachment court agreeing that the question called for speculation. Senator-judges also questioned whether the firearms testimony materially advanced the prosecution’s case. Those were criticisms of evidence, relevance and lawyering.
A public official does not become immune from that kind of criticism because she is a woman. Neither does describing criticism as sexist automatically answer legitimate questions about whether a lawyer presented a witness effectively.
But criticism takes on a different character when the subject ceases to be what the lawyer asked and becomes whether she was flirting while asking it.
Whether Zamora smiled too much, sounded too soft or appeared “malandi” says nothing about whether Duterte’s firearms were properly reflected in her SALN. It says nothing about whether Sangalang’s testimony was relevant to Article II of the impeachment complaint. And it tells the impeachment court nothing about whether the prosecution established the inference it wanted the evidence to support.
Those are separate questions.
On Sept. 29, Zamora brushed aside the attacks, saying her detractors perhaps “can’t handle sass” or “style.”
“I really don’t care if they bash me. I’m here to do my job,” she said.
Her refusal to change the way she speaks did not end the controversy. Two days later, it entered the impeachment proceedings themselves.
During the Oct. 1 session, Sen. Raffy Tulfo criticized the prosecution for presenting witnesses he considered unnecessary, saying some had contributed little to the case and wasted the court’s time. That criticism was directed at prosecution strategy. But Tulfo then referred to a prosecution lawyer who, he said, was being laughed at for “nagpapa-cute” while speaking with a police witness. He did not name Zamora, although both GMA News and News5 placed the remark in the context of her examination of Sangalang.
The difference is not merely one of politeness.
A senator-judge saying that a witness was unnecessary is making a judgment about the prosecution’s case. Saying that a lawyer was “nagpapa-cute” introduces something else into that judgment: an interpretation of how a woman was presenting herself to a man.
The former can be tested against the record. The latter has nothing to do with the evidence at all.
Not every criticism is misogyny
Calling every negative comment about Zamora misogynistic would be intellectually lazy. Pretending that none of the criticism became gendered would be equally so.
The prosecution’s firearms presentation encountered real problems in court. Senator-judges questioned its relevance. Escudero noted that the roughly ₱7-million valuation being discussed was well within the amount reflected in Duterte’s latest SALN, while Zamora countered that SALN guidelines require certain registered personal properties, including firearms, to be individually declared. The defense challenged Sangalang’s relevance and successfully objected to one of Zamora’s questions as speculative.
Those disputes should not be buried beneath a gender argument. They are part of the public record and fair subjects for scrutiny.
A female public official can be criticized for her preparation, judgment, evidence, legal theory, demeanor and effectiveness. Being subjected to sexism does not make her immune from criticism.
The useful dividing line is not whether criticism is harsh. It is what the criticism is actually criticizing.
Philippine research helps explain why that distinction matters. In a 2022 peer-reviewed study, Ateneo de Manila University researchers examined sexist humor aimed at a Filipino woman senator in online public discourse. They found that sexualized joking could function not merely as a personal insult but as a way of delegitimizing a woman as a political actor by reconstructing her public identity through sexual and moral stereotypes.
The study does not prove the motives of every person who laughed at or criticized Zamora. Nor is her case identical to the one examined by the researchers. But it illuminates why “your witness is irrelevant” and “you sound malandi” are analytically different statements.
One challenges professional performance; the other drags sexuality into the evaluation of that performance.
What the law does, and does not say
The Safe Spaces Act, Republic Act No. 11313, expressly recognizes gender-based online sexual harassment. Among the conduct covered by Section 12 are unwanted sexual, misogynistic and sexist remarks and comments made online.
That makes the prosecution’s Lorna Kapunan’s invocation of the law relevant. It does not, however, mean that every crude post, sexist joke or “pa-cute” remark automatically constitutes a criminal offense. Criminal liability requires the statutory elements, evidence, context and due process. A news analysis cannot responsibly convert offensive language into a criminal verdict against unnamed commenters, or against Tulfo, without that legal determination.
What the statute does establish is narrower, but significant: Philippine law recognizes that gendered and sexualized conduct online can be something more serious than simple bad manners.
The Bong Suntay comparison
There is an uncomfortable precedent involving Zamora herself.
During a House justice committee hearing last March, Quezon City Rep. Jesus “Bong” Suntay used actress Anne Curtis in an analogy and described experiencing sexual desire after seeing her. Zamora moved to strike his remarks from the record, and the motion was approved. The Philippine Commission on Women later described Suntay’s statement as sexual objectification. The matter went to the House ethics committee, and in June the House formally disciplined him after adopting the committee’s finding that his conduct violated House standards.
That history complicates the easy claim that men can make sexual remarks without suffering consequences. Suntay did face institutional consequences. But it also reveals something about the current controversy. Suntay himself introduced sexual desire into an official proceeding.
During Zamora’s Sept. 28 examination, the sexuality was supplied by people watching her. A police officer talked about firearms. A lawyer questioned him. Some observers turned her voice, smile and manner into sexual material.
That dynamic extends beyond one viral clip. UN Women Philippines has warned that technology-facilitated gender-based violence, including sexual harassment, and misogynistic speech can discourage women from participating and remaining in political life.
An Inter-Parliamentary Union study released in 2025, based on confidential interviews with 150 women parliamentarians and parliamentary staff from 33 Asia-Pacific countries, found that 60% of the women MPs surveyed reported experiencing online gender-based violence, including hate speech, disinformation, and image-based abuse or doxxing.
Those findings should not be used to shield Zamora from scrutiny. They should make the scrutiny more disciplined.
If her witness was irrelevant, explain why. If the valuation was weak, attack the methodology. If the question was speculative, object. If the prosecution wasted the impeachment court’s time, identify the testimony and demonstrate what it failed to prove.
Those are arguments. “Malandi” is not one. Neither is speculation about ovulation. And “nagpapa-cute,” whatever the speaker intended, does not establish or disprove a single allegation in an impeachment complaint.
An impeachment trial is supposed to force public officials, lawyers and senator-judges toward evidence. The public can demand the same discipline of itself.
Bel Zamora’s work can be criticized as hard as the record warrants. But once the argument requires turning her into a stereotype of how a woman is supposed to speak, smile or carry herself, it has stopped answering what she said.
It has started policing what kind of woman she is allowed to be. CS
Hannah L. Tabunda is a journalism graduate of the University of the Philippines Diliman and a contributor to CoverStory. Her interests include feature writing, multimedia journalism, and “stories that explore people, culture, and lived experiences.” She also engages in such combat sports as karate, Muay Thai and boxing, and has taken up bouldering and top-rope climbing.
