It was supposed to be a celebration of grace. Instead, the Miss Universe 2025 pageant in Bangkok will be remembered as one of the most chaotic events in the organization's 74-year history. From a director publicly berating a contestant to judges resigning in protest of "rigging."
The glitz was overshadowed by a storm of scandal. We investigate how the "Olympics of Beauty" descended into absolute anarchy.
The chaos began with a shocking public undressing. Nawat Itsaragrisil, the Thai pageant director, was caught on livestream berating Miss Mexico (Fatima Bosch) for missing a promotional shoot. He allegedly called her a "dumbhead" (or "damaged," depending on his later apology) and told her to "shut up."
The result? Bosch walked out, followed by several other contestants in a historic show of solidarity. It was a moment that shattered the "smiling queen" illusion. Bosch didn't just take it; she fought back, turning a humiliation ritual into a viral moment of empowerment.
While Mexico fought publicly, Miss Panama (Italy Mora) was quietly removed. The official reason? An "unauthorized room exit." Mora claims she was meeting her boyfriend to get makeup because the organization failed to provide it.
But the story gets darker. She alleged the director, Cesar Anel Rodriguez, was involved in financial impropriety, claiming he requested she pay for her own expenses. "I was exposed," Mora stated. It wasn't just a rule break; it was a glimpse into the desperate, often underfunded reality contestants face behind the scenes.
Just days before the finale, the integrity of the crown was called into question. Two judges, including composer Omar Harfouch, resigned abruptly. The Accuse: Harfouch dropped a bombshell, alleging an "impromptu injury."
Had pre-selected the Top 30 contestants before the official judges even voted. If the winners are picked before the show starts, what are the other 100 women competing for? The allegation struck at the very heart of the pageant's credibility.
Adding fuel to the fire was the rampant misinformation. A "leaked video" claiming to show Manika Vishwakarma winning went viral—our fact-checkers confirmed it was old footage. This swirled alongside confusion over the new age rules.
With the age limit lifted, rumors of "age manipulation" spiked, though the real story was simply that older women were finally allowed to compete. It was a perfect storm of real scandal mixed with digital hysteria.
Behind the curtain, the money was drying up. The parent company, JKN Global Group (led by Anne Jakrajutatip), is navigating bankruptcy proceedings. Creditors have demanded investigations into the sale of 50% of the organization to Mexican billionaire Raul Rocha Cantu.
The logistical failures—makeup shortages, food poisoning, and stage accidents (like Miss Jamaica's scary fall)—all point to an organization potentially running on fumes.
Despite the "dumbhead" insults, the rigging claims, and the financial ruin, a winner was crowned. Fittingly, it was Miss Mexico, Fatima Bosch—the very woman who was berated by the director—who took the title. Her win feels like poetic justice.
She survived the chaos, the bullying, and the politics to wear the crown. The organization may be broken, but the queen is undeniable.