“I understand that what I said in the past caused pain to some, and I take responsibility for it. I will continue to learn and grow. I stand for and with the Filipino people—always.”
With these words, Shuvee Etrata sought to calm the storm that erupted after a video of her defending former president Rodrigo Duterte resurfaced. On the surface, her apology sounded gracious, even humble. But it left many questions unanswered. Nowhere did she name Duterte. Nowhere did she condemn the killings, the corruption, or the betrayals that have defined his legacy. People were left to wonder: what exactly was she sorry for? Was it the pain caused by criticism, or the substance of her defense?
The timing matters. This video was not a relic from the distant past. It was recorded in March 2025, after Duterte had already been arrested and brought to The Hague to face trial for crimes against humanity. To praise him then was not an act of youthful naivete but a choice made in full view of his record. And yet, when the backlash came, Shuvee was quickly shielded by Duterte loyalists invoking “freedom of speech.”
Contrast this with what happened to Bini, the nation’s P-Pop darlings. Earlier this year, they appeared on an international show where they were asked to taste Filipino street food. Their reactions, lighthearted and candid, became the subject of ferocious online criticism. They were labeled “maarte,” “pa-foreigner,” even “un-Filipino,” all because they did not universally adore every dish placed before them. What began as commentary on food quickly degenerated into ad hominem attacks, targeting everything from their humble backgrounds to their appearance.
This is freedom of expression in its most harmless form. To like or not like turon or taho is a matter of preference, not patriotism. Yet Bini’s harmless words drew disproportionate anger. As I wrote before, they were not judged for lack of talent, but for daring to rise in a space that still believes certain looks, accents, or origins should stay in their place. Meanwhile, Shuvee’s morally weighty defense of a leader accused of mass atrocities was excused, even protected, under the same banner of free speech. The imbalance is striking.
Duterte’s record is not one of peace and safety. It is one of thousands of lives cut short without trial or justice, often young, poor, and defenseless. It is one of a nation asked to accept fear repackaged as order, blood on the streets dressed up as security. Beyond the drug war, it is also a record of defending China over Filipino sovereignty in the West Philippine Sea, of welcoming illegal Pogos that fueled crime and corruption, and of weakening institutions that were meant to serve the people. These are not abstract issues. They are wounds that still shape the lives of ordinary Filipinos today.
And yet, in the strange logic of our times, Bini’s harmless expressions were branded un-Filipino while Shuvee’s defense of an un-Filipino leader was shielded from criticism. There is a moral dissonance here that is as dangerous as it is erroneous. It reveals how distorted our compass has become, when young women who carry the flag abroad in song are punished for their palates, while words that excuse violence and betrayal are dismissed as “just an opinion.”
It is important to be clear. This is not about canceling Shuvee or denying the grit it took for her to rise from obscurity. Like Bini, her journey deserves respect. But our concern is not her personal success. It is what her case reveals about us as a society. For if harmless expressions are punished while grave defenses are excused, then it is not Bini or Shuvee alone who stand in judgment, but all of us.
Freedom of speech means one may speak without fear of the State. It does not mean freedom from the consequences of one’s words in the public square. Society has a right to answer back, especially when truth and justice are at stake. To mistake accountability for censorship is to betray the memory of those who suffered and died under a reign of impunity.
Accountability is not an attack. It is a duty owed to the thousands of lives lost and the families left behind. True democracy requires both liberty and responsibility. To separate one from the other is to invite moral decay.
