If Only We Chose Our Politicians the Way We Choose Our Beauty Queens

Daphne Santuyo

There is a unique stillness in the Filipino home during a pageant night. It is the kind of silence that comes only when millions of people are collectively holding their breath. Somewhere, a lola clutches her rosary praying silently. A child sits wide-eyed, absorbing the shimmering lights on the screen. A family argues lovingly about which gown color looks best, who answered the question most gracefully, who deserves the crown. In those moments, the Philippines feels like one beating heart. All eyes are glued on the television waiting with much anticipation. And when our representatives walk onstage, brave, poised and luminous, it feels like we are walking with them. That is the power beauty pageants hold for Filipinos. They let us hope together. And on Friday, when the Miss Universe 2025 Finals night was held, for 3 hours, the entire country was united.

We all cheered and prayed for Ahtisa Manalo who embodied that hope for each Filipino this year. She is a girl once described as “too quiet, too soft, too simple” who walked onto the Miss Universe stage in Thailand carrying the weight of a nation that believed in her more fiercely than she sometimes believed in herself. She was the underdog, the late bloomer, the queen who didn’t win earlier in life because life demanded she grow through struggle first.

When she stumbled slightly on that gown walk during the Miss Universe Philippines 2025 pageant, the nation gasped. And when she stood back up, shoulders firm, eyes glowing, the entire country soared with her. That recovery became a metaphor for us all. Filipinos fall, but we rise with stubborn grace.

She delivered her final answer with a voice trembling not from fear, but from truth during the Miss Universe final question and answer portion as she was speaking of youth, opportunity, and purpose. And for a moment, we believed. NO, we believed and we knew it in our hearts that the 5th Miss Universe crown was within reach.

Then came the announcement. Third runner-up!!!

Ahtisa smiled, but we Filipinos wept, raged, questioned. The controversy, the whispers of bias, unfairness and favoritism only deepened the wound. We weren’t just mourning a lost crown. We were mourning what felt like another injustice in a world already so full of them.

Our queens reflect our dreams, and when they fall, a part of us falls too.

And here is where the heartbreak sharpens. Filipinos choose beauty queens with the highest, fiercest standards, but choose politicians with the lowest.

We demand from our queens intelligence under pressure, authentic compassion, a clear purpose and advocacy, grace, humility, strength and discipline. We watch them closely, judging every step, every answer, every intention. We fight over their gowns, their ideals, their causes. We debate passionately. We care.

But for our politicians? Many times, we do not look as deeply. We forgive easily. We forget histories of corruption. We fall for surname, spectacle, or song and dance. We settle for the familiar, even when the familiar has failed us. And worse, we fall for as low as P100 or probably even lower.

If only…..yes, if only we chose our public servants with the same tenderness, the same scrutiny, the same intensity of hope that we reserve for our queens, then perhaps we would not be governed by officials who steal the future of our children instead of safeguarding them. Perhaps we would not hand power to those who treat it as a family heirloom, a weapon, or a business investment. Perhaps our country would already be the place our beauty queens describe in their final answers , “the Philippines as it could be, not as it is”.

Why Do We Love Queens More Than Leaders? Maybe because queens do not lie to us. They stand onstage and show us exactly who they are, flaws, vulnerability, trembling hands and all.

Maybe because queens rise from places we recognize, from poverty, from heartbreak, from quiet towns where dreams are laughed at before they are believed in.

Maybe because queens represent our best selves. The version of the Filipino who fights with dignity, speaks with courage, and dreams without apology.

Politicians should be the same. But too often, they are not.

After Ahtisa’s loss, the Philippines was united not only in heartbreak but also in pride. She showed us what it means to stand firm in the middle of controversy. She taught us that dignity is a crown no pageant can take away.

And maybe, just maybe, her journey is telling us something bigger: That we deserve leaders who rise like queens. We deserve a country that no longer breaks its own heart. We deserve a future chosen not with fear, but with love. It’s the same love we pour into a girl on a stage thousands of miles away, carrying our flag like a promise.

But then again, if only we voted for politicians the way we vote for queens, with passion, discernment, unity, and hope, the Philippines would definitely crown leaders worthy of the people they serve.

If only we scrutinized their integrity like we critique evening gowns, their public service like we analyze Q&A answers, their sincerity like we examine advocacy platforms, then perhaps no corrupt candidate would survive beyond the first round.

If only we demanded as much from our leaders as we expect from our queens, our nation would be unrecognizable today. Stronger, fairer and more luminous.

We are a country that falls in love with beauty queens because they show us who we can be. Now, it’s time to choose leaders who can help us become that.