Racism is not exclusive to the West or to countries with long histories of colonisation or slavery. It exists in many forms across cultures, including in the Philippines.
While Filipinos are often celebrated for their hospitality and resilience, it is also necessary to recognise uncomfortable truths within our culture. One of those is how racism — often unspoken and sugar-coated as “just a joke” or “part of tradition” — persists in Filipino society both in the Philippines and among Filipino communities abroad.
This article is not written to condemn Filipinos, but to invite honest reflection and reform. Cultural flaws exist in all societies, and maturity lies in acknowledging them, not denying them.
Colorism: A deeply ingrained bias
One of the most visible examples of racism in the Philippines is colorism — the preference for lighter skin and the discrimination against darker-skinned individuals. This bias is rooted in colonial history, where lighter skin was associated with Spanish mestizos (wealth and power), and darker skin with the working class and indigenous groups.
You can find a lot of products enhancing a fairer complexion, and anti-racim advocates seem to ignore or fail to acknowledge this hidden form of internalised bias that reinforces the belief that lighter skin is more desirable, perpetuating a silent but powerful form of discrimination within the culture.

Filipino media, advertising, and beauty standards continue to reinforce this. Whitening products dominate store shelves, and celebrities with Eurocentric features appear to more often celebrated.
Children with darker skin are teased with names like “Itim” or “Negra/o,” often leading to poor self-esteem and internalised racism.
Even jokes in popular TV shows, movies, and family gatherings often centre around skin colour, with little awareness of the hurt it causes. These jokes are shrugged off as harmless fun, but they reinforce a toxic belief that fair skin is superior.
Racism toward fellow Asians
Filipinos abroad sometimes look down on fellow Asians — particularly people from South Asia, such as Indians, Nepalis, or Pakistanis, as well as some Southeast Asians like Indonesians or Malaysians. These biases are often rooted in stereotypes about religion, hygiene, or social status.
In the Middle East, where many Filipinos work, some express disdain toward other migrant workers, even though they share similar struggles. It’s not uncommon to hear Filipinos refer to certain nationalities as “mabaho,” “madumi,” or “barumbado” — derogatory labels that betray a deeper issue: instead of uniting with fellow workers, some Filipinos fall into the trap of feeling superior to others based on race or nationality.
This attitude also extends back home. Chinese-Filipinos are sometimes stereotyped as greedy or opportunistic, while Indian moneylenders are mocked or feared. They exist in conversations passed of as jokes. Such biases are casually passed on in families and communities — often unchecked, let alone corrected.
Classism disguised as racism
Many of the racist tendencies among Filipinos are tightly intertwined with classism. Often, race is used as a proxy for economic status. Filipinos may not hate a particular race per se, but judge people based on stereotypes associated with their socioeconomic background.
For example, white Westerners are often treated with reverence in the Philippines — not because of who they are, but because of what they represent: money and opportunity. Conversely, Filipinos may look down on fellow Southeast Asians or Africans, assuming they are less educated or poorer.
This behaviour is painfully evident in how Filipino parents sometimes instruct their children: “Mag-asawa ka ng puti para umangat ka sa buhay.” (Marry a white person so your life will improve.) How many of us have heard these lines from family members, neighbors or friends?
This mindset reduces human relationships to transactional exchanges and dehumanises both Filipinos and foreigners.
Colonial mentality and self-racism
One of the most damaging aspects of racism in Filipino culture is its internalisation, the self-racism born from colonial mentality. After over 300 years under Spanish rule and 50 years under the Americans, many Filipinos unconsciously absorbed the idea that Western is better — better looking, better educated, more civilised.
This leads to a paradox: Filipinos proudly defend their identity in the face of foreign discrimination, but discriminate against their own people based on proximity to Western ideals. Those who speak fluent English with a neutral or “white” accent are praised, while those with provincial accents or difficulty with English are mocked. Even the word Bisaya can be interpreted as somewhat backward and inferior.
Imagine being someone who speaks English well but with thick Cebuano accent in a job interview in Manila, there might be a perceived bias of being inferior and lack qualifications through verbal interaction.
The result is a fractured identity. Filipinos take pride in their heritage, but many still chase validation from the West, trying to appear more American, more Korean, or more European — anything but “too Filipino.”

Racism toward indigenous peoples
The Aetas, Igorots, and Lumads — indigenous groups in the Philippines — have long faced marginalization. They are portrayed in textbooks, shows, and jokes as primitive or backward. In urban schools, indigenous children are bullied or treated as “other,” despite being the original inhabitants of the land.
This isn’t just cultural prejudice; it has real-world impacts. Indigenous communities are often pushed out of their lands, denied education, and excluded from economic development. Yet little is done to protect them or celebrate their heritage beyond token festivals and part of regional tourist attractions.
Hypocrisy in the diaspora
Many Filipinos experience racism abroad and justifiably cry out against it. Yet, some also participate in the same discriminatory behaviours they complain about.
In the U.S., Canada, or Australia, some Filipino migrants mock newly arrived kababayans, especially if they struggle with English or dress in “provincial” styles. Others may avoid befriending other Filipinos to avoid being “grouped together” or looked down upon by mainstream society.
This reflects internalised racism — a desire to escape one’s own ethnic identity to gain perceived social status.
The way Forward: Cultural Humility and Accountability
So what can be done?
First, awareness is essential. Racism, in all its forms, thrives in silence and denial. By calling it out, even when it feels uncomfortable or “against tradition”, we allow room for honest change.
Second, media and education must play a role. Schools should teach cultural sensitivity and Filipino history with a broader lens that includes the experiences of indigenous peoples and fellow Asians. Media representation should showcase diversity, not just the typical mestizo faces and Western beauty standards.
Finally, we need personal accountability. It starts in the home — with the jokes we allow, the compliments we give, and the comments we tolerate. Racism is learned behavior, and so is unlearning it.
Final thoughts
Filipinos are a remarkable people — adaptable, passionate, and proud. But true pride doesn’t ignore flaws; it confronts them with courage. Recognising racism within Filipino culture is not about shame — it’s about hope. The hope is that we build a kinder, more inclusive nation that uplifts all, regardless of skin color, spoken accent, or ancestry.
By holding up a mirror to ourselves, we can create a more honest version of Filipino identity — one that no longer relies on who we are better than, but on how we treat each other.