What makes one a true Filipino?

This country wouldn’t have a chance on the national stage without us ‘halfies.’” That insouciant banter by a befuddled lad will likely go down as one of the most painfully poignant indictments of our contemporary culture. Had it not been for the nationwide avalanche of outrage, the profound significance of such an ill-informed statement would have gone unnoticed. It reflects something I have noticed for a long time: the quiet contemptuousness displayed by the very people who owe every ounce of their personal success to our beautiful nation and the immense generosity of the Filipino heart.

I noticed this in conversations with some folks whose ancestors escaped crushing poverty and wars in Asia just to find paradisiacal peace and an entrepreneurial gold mine in the Philippines. I noticed this in conversations with the lucky few who found unconditional love among our folks in ways they could never find in the cold, indifferent heart of the postindustrial West. And, yes, I also noticed it in conversations with those, who, similar to me, had either mixed heritage or could trace their lineage to the rarified lands of Madre España.

At times, I pushed back with characteristic passion, openly calling out the ingratitude of those who would have inhabited an entirely different world had they not stepped foot onto our lush islands and enjoyed the world-renowned hospitality of the Filipino nation. I stood in disbelief at the litany of orientalist nonsense they shamelessly levied against our people. Frankly, I lost count of how many foreign-blooded businessmen, who managed to build tiny empires of prosperity after spending decades in the Philippines, effortlessly whined about our supposed indolence, lack of discipline, and congenital deficiencies in an unabashedly racialist lexicon.

They sounded like colonial officers who never moved on from the inanities of the imperialist age. So I had to remind them that it was the tireless labor and unremitting dedication of Filipino workers that allowed these petty capitalists to thrive in our country! And then came those most annoying conversations with some “halfies,” whose undeserved hubris was transparently built on an unshakable belief in their supposed “supérieur” status vis-à-vis their “local” counterparts. This was a breed that narcissistically relished its light pigmentation, tall stature, and angular aesthetics. This was a species that dared to look down even on “halfies” of supposedly less prestigious pedigree. Unbelievable!

But this latest episode of neocolonial chutzpah also says something quite profound about us as a people: we are too nice to those who don’t deserve it, and we aren’t sufficiently at ease with our own heritage. Few things perplex me as much as seeing too many Filipino parents overseas not bothering to impart to their children—many with no “foreign blood” at all—any of the languages of our land. Never mind that being multilingual is actually an asset in today’s world. Few things perplex me as much as seeing beauty pageant judges or talent managers displaying preferential treatment for some “fresh off the boat” “halfies” angling to represent our country at global competitions, even if they clearly haven’t bothered to learn our language and national history. The way they’re fawned over for just having the right foreign blood is beyond lamentable!

This is not the time for cancel culture, however. Instead, it’s a moment for redeeming our metaphysical self-confidence by combating Orientalism and embracing a true understanding of our glorious history: ours was the first nation to launch an anticolonial nationalist revolution in all of Asia. Our universities were among the first in the non-Western world. Our business districts were the first in Southeast Asia. We were once great, so we can become great again!

To be Filipino is to assert our dignity, call out neocolonial hubris, and, above all, transcend narrow racial categories in celebration of our singularly diverse heritage. Lest we forget, a significant number of our very founding fathers and mothers were creoles. Just look at Jose Burgos and Manuel Quezon! We are blessed with countless “halfies”—from Pia Wurtzbach to Catriona Gray and Bea Millan-Windorski—who have clearly demonstrated their love for the Philippines and sincere respect for the countless sacrifices of our ancestors. And if there is anything that the recent success of homegrown BINI and SB19 shows us, is this: the Filipino is world-class!

—————-

richard.heydarian@inquirer.net