A poor girl from the province, beautiful and kind, captures billions of hearts on the global stage. A determined fighter, starving and bloodied, bests the world’s elite fighters in the ring. Filipinos, a people constantly doting on its beauty queens and boxers, have a special reverence for these stories.
Names like Gloria Diaz and Manny Pacquiao are printed onto the pages of our national history textbooks, lauded alongside our revolutionary leaders and wartime heroes. Pageantry and boxing are two of the most powerful pillars of Filipino culture, and there’s been no shortage of attempts to explain our fascination with them.
Image credit: Brett Jordan
Many point to the rags-to-riches journey or the Cinderella moment as a way to explain our devotion to the championship belt and pageant crown. Some sociology professors and pageant school instructors believe the excitement comes from the career opportunities the girls could seize if they win: a fledgling contestant may go from practicing catwalks and choosing their outfits one night, to representing banks, presidentiables, and social justice movements the next.
“The cash rewards, brand deals, social media following, having a voice, and appearing at events and all the other perks can change a queen’s life,” said a pageant trainer at Jojo Bragais, a beauty school that trains girls for pageants. The trainer, who requested anonymity since he was not authorized to speak to press, told ABS-CBN.com that while “contestants enjoy feeling beautiful and having a moment to shine, many also join to create a better future for themselves."
“I was eight when I joined my first pageant for our barangay,” said current Binibining Pulo contestant Diane Flores, whose name has been changed as she was not authorized to speak to the media.
“Training isn’t easy; and pageant season is hectic. So many lessons, training your posture, your speech, your smile. It’s fun, but it’s definitely work, and I remind myself that my family can have a better life if I can win enough times and break into the [media] industry.”
In short, the usual response to ‘why do we love pageants?’ is, ‘because the girls can start a new life if they win,’ but this doesn’t really answer the question. A pageant crown isn’t as impactful in other countries than the Philippines, where one coronation changes lives. So, why do we value our fighters and pageant queens, to the point that they are rewarded with enormous career advantages and lasting adoration?
The answer may reside in bamboo groves.
A centuries-old creation myth tells us the first Filipinos emerged from a bamboo stalk that split open after being struck by lightning. Our first man was called Malakas (strong), our first woman Maganda (beautiful).
From bamboos to big screens
The myth began as an oral tradition, which means it's been circulating before the Philippines began recording its national history by around 900 CE, but Malakas and Maganda are still present with us today. Filipinos latch onto successful fighters and beauty queens, almost as if they prove being a strong man or a beautiful woman can get you out of poverty and into a comfortable life.
In the Philippines, beauty represents something beyond appearance: citizens equate it with social graces, intelligence, and good moral character. Take the career trajectories of Pia Wurtzbach and Catriona Gray: Wurtzbach-Jauncey, the 2015 Miss Universe, is still the face of Banco de Oro, the Philippines' largest bank in terms of total financial resources. Catriona Gray, who won the same crown seven years ago, has endorsed electoral candidates all the way to the presidential level.
“Si Malakas at Si Maganda,” Nestor Redondo
To Filipinos, strength also indicates gifts other than physical capabilities; the country believes anyone who possesses strength also wields courage, bravery, and dominance. The strongman trope is present in our politics, where “macho” politicians who show tough, authoritarian tendencies are likely to win elections and sway political decisions.
Strongman culture is also seen in our penchant for action movie stars and boxers. For nearly a decade, the nation was engrossed in ABS-CBN’s Ang Probinsyano, the network’s longest-running and most-viewed primetime series. Manny Pacquiao is another prime example of Malakas’ influence today: the boxer originally announced his retirement in 2016, but nine years later, the former world champion would become the national team leader for the Philippine delegation to Physical 100: a South Korean survival show where only the strongest and fittest contestants can participate.
“Every fighter wants to have a boxing career like Pacquiao. But it’s not about copying Pacquiao, who’s just one person,” said Dodie Agrabio, who coaches amateur and professional boxers, including World Boxing Council champions.
“The Philippines is a country of fighters. We’re built for it,” Agrabio tells ABS-CBN.com. “We’ve been doing it for centuries, and it’s better suited to us than basketball,” he adds. Agrabio and other fighters believe combat sports is part of our identity, that martial arts was part of our culture before Pacquiao and it will continue to be long after the boxer is forgotten.
500-year old traditions
Cultural values are reinforced by centuries of practices and habits, with Filipino martial arts like Eskrima, Arnis, Yaw-Yan, and Kali in practice since the 14th century. The entire archipelago knew how to fight. It wasn’t just for practical purposes like hunting and combat: martial arts skills were celebrated by communities through tournaments and festivals.
Spanish colonizers attempted to destroy this part of culture, but Filipinos found ways to preserve our practices, from underground fight clubs to including martial arts techniques in theater productions. Even Jose Rizal, the Luna brothers, and Marcelo Del Pilar taught Arnis to their students abroad. Recounting the impact fighters like Pacquiao and Elorde had on our culture feels needless at this point in time, since the two remain so influential.
Image credit: Philippine Eskrima Kali Arnis Federation
Our love for combat persists today, with amateur and professional boxing tournaments taking place at the barangay, city, regional, and national levels. Cultural values penetrate even the smallest circles of community, and love of pageantry is no exception.
The Maganda myth was reinforced by colonial practices like the Santacruzan, a festival that would crown a local girl as the queen of flowers. Pageant participants, called Sagalas, would dress up and enshrine themselves in flowery parade floats.
To date, the Philippines is the only Asian country to have won all of the "Big Six" pageants: Miss Universe, Miss World, Miss International, Miss Earth, Miss Supranational, and Miss Grand International. As of 2025, the country has 15 crowns to its name, second only to the United States' 16.
Miss Universe and Miss World, usually held at luxurious event halls, are the most popular, but pageants frequently take place in malls and auditoriums, in the same way boxing tournaments can be held in town plazas, not just in the MGM Grand Arena where Pacquiao won his belts.
Our devotion for boxers and beauty queens stems from the mythical Filipinos that sprung out of bamboo stalks; and this same devotion has been nurtured through the centuries. It remains present even in the smallest of communities, not just in the rings of world championships or on international pageant stages.