It has been a few weeks since that presidential visit in South Korea where President Duterte called a woman from the audience and kissed her on the lips.
Since then, the nation has found other things to be outraged over —China, the killing of priests, the attacks on the Catholic faith, the new directive on ‘tambays.’ The list goes on.
Certainly this presidency is a colorful one—on that we can all agree.
The Palace pointed out that the President sought permission, as a gentleman would. In fact, he asked the woman, Bea Kim, whether she was married, and whether she could assure her husband that the kiss that was about to happen did not mean anything at all.
Kim, a Filipina overseas worker married to a Korean, said there was no malice in the kiss she shared with the President.
“It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience,” she said.
She added the gesture was made to liven up the audience, as it did—the crowd laughed and cheered. It meant absolutely nothing to her and to the President.
Kim did say she was nervous, excited and scared before it happened—her husband was seated in front of the stage.
Mr. Duterte’s defenders say there was nothing wrong with the gesture because the woman had agreed to it. She was neither coerced or intimated—look, she was even smiling!
Such should be an acceptable and reasonable expression of consent. The two were both adults. He asked, she said yes. What’s the beef?
And if there were anybody to be blamed, some add, it should be no other than Kim herself, who had agreed to the encounter in the first place. What was a married woman doing allowing other men to kiss her on the lips?
The fact is, we don’t really know what went on in Kim’s mind when she said yes to the President, and after that kiss actually took place, and even while she spoke afterward depicting the kiss as harmless.
Outwardly she was cool and confident. But was that yes really a yes, or because she was put on the spot and saying no would have been unthinkable? After all, this was not just another man—this was the President of the Philippines. The two of them were not on equal footing.
Consent is tricky. Defined by Stanford University’s Office of Sexual Assault and Relationship Abuse Education and Response, consent “is an affirmatively nonverbal act or verbal statement that is informed, freely given and mutually understood. Lack of protest or resistance does not mean consent, nor does silence mean consent….Whether one has taken advantage of a position of influence over another may be a factor in determining consent.”
Only Kim will be able to say (to herself and not in front of cameras) if she felt coerced indeed. In the event that she didn’t—then good for her. She found herself in the situation because she chose to be in it. She could decide for herself if she wants to be kissed or not, and she does not deserve to be judged for deciding either way.
But that is Kim—an ordinary worker. She is not president of any country, and she is not be measured against standards befitting an elected leader. Mr. Duterte, on the other hand, is. He is, first and foremost, expected not to take advantage of—or flaunt—his ascendancy so that he could have his way with women.
Gimmickry is hardly an excuse to demean the Office of the President—even when the woman says yes, even when the crowd cheers in approval.