TITLE: Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon
AUTHOR: Melchor M. Morante
Published by Aletheia Printing and Publishing House, Davao City
Virtual book launch on 30 December 2020 at 4 p.m.

KIDAPAWAN CITY (MindaNews / 16 December) —  A genre of its own emerges from Melchor M. Morante’s latest book Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon, a collection of short stories in Cebuano Bisaya.

Written by an author with decades of experience working with Mindanao’s marginalized communities, these roman-a-clef stories are to date the largest collection of works of what I will hitherto call Historical Injustice Fiction.

These stories – and the literature they end up becoming – are now welcome additions to Mindanao’s collective memory, serving to help address many of this island’s many historical injustices: Landgrabbing, historical and cultural erasure, extrajudicial killings, socioeconomic inequality, and linguistic hegemony all touched in stories casually told as reflective recollections.

Using fiction as a means of documenting and bringing historical injustices into wider public awareness is not new, but with Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon, a new direction is emerging: specific incidents of atrocities or injustices in Mindanao, specially those not widely known or remaining unrecorded, are portrayed and tackled with the sobriety of literary detachment, such that human insight may be distilled from them, specially for Mindanawon readers.

As I have said in different occasions, the culmination of literary form is impact, and in order to achieve that impact, that form must be scrutinized. Taking at look at how Morante’s stories succeed, and see where they can improve, would also serve to take this emerging genre forward.

We note, first of all, the language, and with just this the stories in this collection already have much impact.

For the longest time, Mindanao’s Fiction in Cebuano Bisaya has been largely monolingual, a result of Bhabhan hybridity of Mindanao’s writers from the ‘standard’ Cebu tradition of the language’s literature, but also a cause by which Mindanao’s own tradition remains so, producing this endless cycle of uprootedness. This is an often ignored dimension to the reality of contemporary Mindanao literature’s longstanding failure to reflect Mindanao’s linguistic realities.  With the more recent works of writers like Jondy Arpilleda (who blurs the lines between Bisaya and Tandagnon) and Macario Tiu (who proudly uses the Tagalog-laced Bisaya of Davao), this remove between literary medium and linguistic reality is slowly being addressed

But Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon takes this one step further, with the author making it his express aim in the collection’s introduction to show more of Cebuano Bisaya’s increasing hybridization with other languages in Mindanao. With Tagalog, English, and Hiligaynon mixing with Monuvu, Blaan, Subanen, and Dulangan in the Cebuano narrative, this collection’s medium is, to date, the closest any book has come to what Mindanao actually sounds like.

We want more of course, and in many accounts that demand is addressed not to the text, but to the community. Mindanao’s indigenous languages (this collection shows) is not being heard enough in Mindanao, a result of their slow erasure in the wake of policies of linguistic hegemony (the premium put on English, the imposition of Tagalog as a national language, and the emergence of Cebuano as Settler lingua franca resulting from unmediated resettlement). Morante’s stories also succeed by showing how Mindanao’s languages have become subaltern even in Mindanao. We are compelled to do something about it.

Where, perhaps, the collection can improve on the matter of language is with the following of emerging standards of orthography and in being representative of the picture of diversity.

I cannot speak for the other Lumad languages, but for Obo Monuvu (which I am learning), I can point out that it would be ideal if the author follow the orthography for the language developed by tribal leaders in partnership with the Summer Institute of Linguistics. Greetings such as ‘moppiyon sollom’ (which are used in the stories) are increasingly being spelled by the language’s writers following this orthography, which the tribe themselves designed to better reflect their phonology.

The discourse on what orthography to follow is also deeply intertwined with discursive power, and it would be consistent with this collection’s aim – and for Historical Injustice Fiction in general – to spell words in the  language the way the language community itself would like them to be spelled.

Although it is not really the problem of the collection (which is already considerably diverse), it must also be pointed out that the book is still far from representing the sheer multiplicity of tongues in Mindanao, one of the world’s  linguistic diversity hotspots. Not featured in the book are the Moro languages, many Lumad languages, and Settler languages endemic to Mindanao like Chavacano and the Mindanao Tagalogs. But that only means that we hope more works will come out featuring those languages’ confluence with Bisaya.

In terms of form, the stories in the collection often fall short of narrative development. Each story is rich in ethnographical and historical material, with much of those having their own conflicts. But the stories suffer from overreliance on them, and perhaps the author’s own general sense of detachment from the events unfolding. Although it must be quickly pointed out that the author is in no way apathetic, on the contrary there is much sympathy for the conflicts unfolding in each piece from the narrator. Only that it seems that the narrator is too often merely the bystander, and being another level removed from the human experience, the reader can only really eavesdrop into what that bystander is hearing.

The emotional gravity of such situations as the death of the grandson in ‘Lakewood’ and the evacuations recounted in ‘Buklog’ do not come out, in the first case because the narrator (and consequently the reader) has not been shown to have developed any deeper attachment to the dead child, and in the latter case because the reader is not given the opportunity to be in the narrative present of the incident being recounted.

The same is true of the character development of the eponymous ‘Kampo,’ whose change of personality the reader (like the narrator) can only speculate about but do not really full experience.

Balancing the volume of historical and ethnographic material to discuss on the one hand and creating a human conflict at the heart of the story on the other will be a central and recurring challenge to any future writer of Historical Injustice Fiction.

Where I think writers like Morante can move forward on that count is to find a conflict through which the author can add their take on the discourse of the subject matter, the insight they draw from the issue, or perhaps their idea how it could be resolved.

The wealth of material to discuss also makes it very tempting for the writer of Historical Injustice Fiction to dump information that, while of great interest, may be unnecessary to the story and may in fact drag the story down and lose the reader’s interest. This the case in ‘Kampo,’ where the discussions on the religious characters’ work gets more attention than Kampo’s own sudden change in personality.

The introduction of the collection gives full disclosure that the stories are all Roman a Clef, with the names of characters and places changed to respect the privacies of people. But the author is actually inconsistent on this account, as in some stories he renames entire towns (‘Malpet’ for ‘Magpet’ in North Cotabato in ‘Natik Ansaban’ to name one) but in others he even uses the town’s real name, (‘Lakewood,’ for instance).

Altering the names would, I think, only cause unnecessary frustration, specially as many of the incidents being described are in fact publicly verifiable.

The subject of the first story in the collection, ‘Natik Ansaban,’ was particularly easy to identify, specially for a reader like me doing research into Kidapawan history. The Katindu Dispute, which started in the 1960s and was only resolved in the 1990s, involved the Monuvu Ansabu clan, lead by Datu Amasing and Datu Mambiling Ansabu, and the land-grabber Augusto Gana, who became mayor of Kidapawan from 1971 to 1992 (in the story his caricature, Hulyo Alegre, became governor, but in real life his wife Mila Ocampo Gana became a provincial board member, and together they were influential in the province).

‘Satur Neri’ is inspired by the martyred priest Fr Nery Lito Satur, who fought a long crusade against logging in Bukidnon. The displacement of the Subanen resulting from the insurgency in Mt Malindang portrayed in ‘Buklog,’ as well as the exploitation of the burial jars in Sultan Kudarat are all well documented.

But the others whose real details I and other readers are not privy to only cause frustration, as there is a desire built up to learn more about these real incidents, specially considering the author – who has spent decades working with communities – offers a historically important perspective never before heard. This was particularly the case with ‘Kampo,’ whose real location I could not ascertain.

I find that changing the names, specially of places and public figures, would be counterproductive to the project of raising awareness about historical injustices, as for such an endeavor you want to be as informative as you can for all of posterity. There is a sense in this collection that the author understood this in many of the stories, which did not really hide any names.

Outside of form, writers who would attempt to write works of Historical Injustice Fiction must be conscious of the complexities of discourse in Mindanao, and the dynamics of representation and the subaltern.

Which is why there is a need to properly translate this book’s title to English.

‘Lumadnong Sugilanon’ would be simply translated to ‘Lumad Stories’ by less aware editors. But such a translation would create the false impression that these stories are by the Lumad and articulate Lumad worldviews. This, for the Settler author, would be tantamount to Settlerjacking .

This danger is especially true if these stories were handled by anthology editors and literature teachers without nuance (and there are many), and it would only add to the pervading problem of cultural misrepresentation if this collection were not curated properly.

And proper curation is what this collection deserves, as they are very insightful stories about the Lumad (a much better translation of the title!), ones told from a very empowering perspective.

Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon is a triumph of Settler fiction, because few Settler stories ever portray the Lumad with the same level of respect, admiration, and empathy as much as these stories do. In these stories you see most of all that the Lumad are people, with very human struggles that any reader can relate to.

Even the ignorance of the Lumad is cause for the Settler’s respectful amusement. In ‘Kampo,’ the narrator shares the eponymous Dulangan Manobo character’s excitement to see the sea (which he had never seen up close before). When Kampo wonders if he can use sea water to cook Sinigang, the narrator delights at this fresh way of looking at something he had always taken for granted. Charming moments like these remind us, both of our shared humanity and the many differences we can celebrate.

What make these stories particularly special is how much it reveals – and exemplifies – about the Settler perspective. The narrator is conscious of his Settlerhood, and has the wisdom to be wary of the perils of projecting his own aspirations on the communities he is working with. In these stories, most of the talking actually comes from the perspective of the Lumad characters (either as dialogue or as recounted by the narrator), and the narrator rarely adds his own perspective into the details.  The author being a seasoned community worker, this comes as no surprise. And this is an attitude every Settler, specially the well meaning ones who will endeavour to take up the challenge of writing Historical Injustice Fiction, will need to assume.

It is of course de rigueur for anyone writing about cultural communities to be judicious in the ethnography they depict, because fiction has a way of distorting public understanding of anthropology. This is especially true for works of Historical Injustice Fiction, as cultural distortions are themselves acts of historical injustice (an injustice I think such fictionists as  Erwin Cabucos, Jude Ortega, and the late Antonio Enriquez were often guilty of). The author behind the nom de plume Melchor M. Morante is a seasoned anthropologist, so that rarely poses a problem for this collection.

The Settler author is also rightly candid about the devastating effects of Settlerhood and the poor environmental and economic policies of the colonial Philippine nation-state imagined from Manila on the indigenous cultures of Mindanao. In one story, poorly thought out land titling policies are shown to have led to landgrabbing. In another, the coming of public health institutions are shown to be killing ancient healing traditions (very timely as the national government is now considering recognizing indigenous healers as Preservers of Intangible Cultural Heritage). And yet in another, the Manila-centric and Urban-centric nature of cultural institutions are shown to be the cause of looting of historical and archaeological artefacts.

One of the most poignant scenes in the whole collection is in the story ‘Lakewood,’ when the Manilenya nun casually makes a feminist commentary on the Subanen legend being recounted. Not only is this a demonstration of typical Manilenyo naivety and unwitting cultural imposition, the narrator’s response – that cultures are to be respected if they are to be understood – is wisdom every Mindanawon should aspire to.

But particularly fascinating is how, in these stories, the author offers a glimpse into Mindanawon Catholic attitudes towards the Lumad and their indigenous spirituality. The early days of Christianity in Lumad Mindanao were characterized by coerced conversions and systematic discrimination. In this collection, we see how the Catholic church and its institutions have actually taken a complete u-turn in dealing with indigenous spirituality, one for the better. Instead of dismissing the Lumad spiritual traditions as ‘paganism’ or ‘witchcraft,’ there is often an awed fascination on the part of the narrator, a member of a religious order. This already goes beyond mere tolerance, the author is showing how Mindanao’s Christian Settlers (specially its more mature Catholics) are starting to celebrate the many ways of being human and aspiring towards the Infinite here in Mindanao. This collection, I think, argues quite eloquently how Mindanao should be developed as an important center for theology.

Just the last word in the book’s title, Mahinuklogon, opens up so many possibilities. ‘Paghinuklog’ is conventionally translated to ‘contemplation,’ with a note of ‘repentance,’ and in Settler Bisaya is a term invariably belonging to the semantic field of Kwaresma (the Lenten Season), in other words of religious reflection. And yet it is tantalizingly similar to the Subanen ritual of the Buklog (the title of one of the collection’s stories), and if not a cognate, is certainly evocative of that grand indigenous ceremony. By just that one word, the book’s title serves to subtly remind Mindanawons how much we actually share with one another despite our ethnic and religious differences, and how much we would discover if we only overcame prejudices and try to understand one another.

Mga Lumadnong Sugilanon nga Mahinuklogon is the first literary book to come out from Mindanao since the coming of the global Coronavirus Pandemic (part of the ongoing Cultural boom in Mindanao).

And rightly so: in a time when we are dealing with many deaths and compelled to stay at home to read and reflect, literature that is lived – like these works of Historical Injustice Fiction – becomes more relevant.

Because when you talk about historical injustice, you cannot help but usher in the coming of healing.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. Karlo Antonio Galay David documented five previously unrecorded civilian massacres, the obscure lives of many local historical figures, and the details of dozens of forgotten historical incidents in his hometown of Kidapawan City, North Cotabato, where he is currently working as local historian for the City Government. He has a Masters in Creative Writing from Silliman University, and has won the Don Carlos Palanca and Nick Joaquin Literary Awards. He has seen print in Mindanao, Cebu, Dumaguete, Manila, Hong Kong, and Bangkok)

KIDAPAWAN CITY (Mindanews/17 January) With the Philippine government’s all-out war against the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and its armed wing, the New People’s Army (NPA), Lumad communities in Mindanao have become vulnerable areas of conflict. They are the figurative string in a tug-of-war of the State forces on one side and CPP/NPA on the other side, pulling hard to win their support. But what is in there that one tries to win?

Lumad communities are generally situated in geographically-isolated areas with lack of access to social services, mainstream economic opportunities, education and political participation. Ironically, these communities are gifted with abundant commercially-viable natural resources like minerals, forests, rivers and streams which make them vulnerable to development aggression.

According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) report, Indigenous Peoples (IPs) remain to be the poorest and most disadvantaged peoples. They have been “subject to historical discrimination and marginalization from political processes and economic benefit. They often face exclusion, loss of ancestral lands, displacement, pressures to and destruction of traditional ways of life and practices, and loss of identity and culture. In extreme situations, social and political discontent has erupted into armed conflict.”

The Philippine Constitution declares that the State shall recognize and promote the rights of indigenous cultural communities within the framework of national unity and development. In 1997, Republic Act 8371, otherwise known as “The Indigenous Peoples Rights Act (IPRA)” was enacted which becomes the cornerstone of national policy on IP. The law mandates the promotion of indigenous rich cultures and traditions as well as the development and protection of their ancestral lands. The struggles, particularly by IPs themselves, to pass IPRA was so passionate it even took the lives of a number of IP leaders and advocates.  It was a product of intensified campaigns which one of the authors of the law, then 2^nd District Congressman of North Cotabato, Atty. Gregorio A. Andolana, described as “the living instrument of IPs’ struggle for their right to self-determination”.

Recently, however, Lumad communities are facing a new challenge and vulnerability brought by intensified anti-communist insurgency in their areas. The government’s campaign dubbed as “End Local Communist Armed Conflict (ELCAC)” under Executive Order No. 70 or “whole-of-the-nation approach” has apparently widened the divide among IP leaders and communities. The situation was aggravated by the government’s designation of the CPP/NPA as terrorist organization. Many of them are “red-tagged” as sympathizers of the CPP/NPA or alleged communist fronts.

The government’s anti-insurgency approach is obvious and simple: bring all agencies to the communities to provide social services and livelihood projects to win their hearts and minds; intensify information and education campaigns, in short, “propaganda,” to counter communist ideologies; gather more “surrenderers”  to show CPP/NPA has weakened their foothold in communities they used to dominate and declare them as “dismantled areas;” employ psychological warfare, in other words, “harassment,” against organizations and their leaders who will not cooperate in the campaign; and file trumped-up charges against alleged CPP/NPA supporters or sympathizers who will not “surrender.”

The disintegration of Lumad communities has been shown by the pronouncement of its leaders in a recent conference in North Cotabato. The gathering which was supposedly aimed at unifying the Lumads’ position on issues affecting their communities became a venue for propaganda, thus, creating more divisions. One leader claims that communists deceived them to rebel against the Philippines government. He said the church-based tribal Filipino program where he used to work for socio-economic development of Lumad communities were infiltrated by members of CPP/NPA and became its recruitment and organizing unit.

However, a fellow Lumad woman leader, shared a different story. She said the church-based tribal Filipino program has empowered them to fight for ancestral lands and promote their cultural values, customs and traditions. On the contrary, she said, the intensified military operations and crackdown of dissenters and perceived sympathizers of CPP/NPA in their communities have increased violations of human rights and limited their movement to do their usual economic activities. She and some members of her community experienced military harassment like compelling them to visit military camps to “clear” their names absent any charges. She has known many Lumad church and community leaders still languishing in prison due to trumped-up charges.

The Duterte administration has around one and a half years remaining in its timeline to end the communist armed conflict. At the center of this campaign are the Lumad communities in Mindanao. But looking at the way it is being pursued, it seems to be another regime of failure in addressing the insurgency problem.

First, there is apparent lack of sincerity in providing solution to the root causes of conflict. It employs piecemeal approach in addressing the socio-economic conditions of the communities. The “one time-big time” delivery of services of all government agencies in one community appears to be a charade or band-aid than a solution to a critical social illness. It has no clear direction and sustainability mechanisms. Experience tells us that without community participation in all phases of development from planning to implementation,  it is doomed to fail. It fails to provide a comprehensive development program taking into consideration the socio-economic conditions of the communities and their participation in its implementation.

Second, the crackdown on the perceived communists sympathizers and dissenters creates more enemies and hostile environment for peace. As one military strategist had said, “we cannot win the war through the barrel of the gun.” Violence begets more violence. Hatred brings more hatred. Filing of ridiculous criminal complaints, usually non-bailable offenses, against innocent civilians will only weaken the trust and confidence of the people in the government. As it goes, the anti-insurgency campaign prefers short-term targets and quotas than long-term solution and impact.

Finally, the government’s indiscriminate closure of Lumad schools baselessly accused of promoting communist ideology, coupled with massive social media propaganda campaigns, is another erroneous and myopic approach.

The right of Lumads to education is protected by the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and other international human rights instruments, including the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

The UN stressed that as distinct peoples, Lumads “have developed their own knowledge systems, values, institutions, practices and economies, often based on sustainable management of natural resources” and they have “their own cultural methods of transmitting knowledge.”

The government’s anti-insurgency campaign, however, included closure of Lumad schools.

In addition, the military has been pitting the Lumad against their fellow Lumads in various parts of Mindanao. In North Cotabato, it organized the Bagani forces made up of Lumad members in the municipalities of Arakan, Magpet and Antipas. According to some members, they are under the supervision and control of a Datu who covers certain ancestral territory. Their task is to protect the Datu and the territory which includes intelligence information gathering against communist rebels. The military adopts this approach not only in North Cotabato but also in Northern Mindanao, Caraga and Davao regions.

A few weeks ago, a group of Bagani forces belonging to Tinananon-Manobo, arrested fellow members in Arakan, North Cotabato. The Bagani forces, despite having no authority in law, arrested two members and brought them to their “commander” for investigation, accusing them of  introducing a false organization and collecting membership fees.

As this situation escalates, Lumad communities remain to be vulnerable being the preferred battlegrounds of armed groups. Sadly, the gains that they have so far achieved in their struggle to address historical injustices are once again challenged and overwhelmed by another blunt of dirty war. This time, as pawns in a deadly game of fratricidal chess: Lumad vs. Lumad.

[MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews.  Upper Right Hand is a revolving column of the Union of People’s Lawyers in Mindanao (UPLM). Atty. Dionesio T. Alave, Jr. is the Chair of People’s Peace Network, an alliance of local church and civil society organizations in Kidapawan City which is actively involved in peace-building and promotion of justice and human rights. He has been a rural development worker since 1994 and a human rights lawyer upon admission to the bar in 2012.]

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 25 February) – One of the parents of 19 Lumad students who were “rescued” during a police operation from a “bawkit” school at the University of San Carlos (USC) in Balamban, Cebu City last Feb. 15 belied accusations that their children were kidnapped and taken to Cebu from their place in Talaingod, Davao del Norte.

Lorena Mandacawan told a press conference at the United Church of Christ in the Philippines (UCCP) Haran Evacuation Center in Davao City on Wednesday that they consented to sending their children to study in Cebu after the government forcibly closed their schools in their hometown.

Mandacawan is a member of the Parents and Teachers Association of the Salugpongan Community Learning Center.

The military has accused Salugpongan schools and other learning institutions for Lumad in Mindanao as fronts for recruitment into the New People’s Army (NPA).

Mandacawan recalled that parents brought their children to Davao City to continue their schooling and signed a “parent’s consent” in 2019 as “proof that we agreed that our children be brought by the teacher anywhere since our community schools have bunkhouses.”

She said that the teachers and the Lumad children were accompanied by tribal elders, one of whom was Datu Benito, her older brother.

She said she wanted the government authorities to express remorse for conducting the raid, asking them to respect the parents and their children who wanted to educate themselves.

“Maybe, you want our children to stay uneducated so that they can become like us who are ignorant, so that it will be easy for you to make us sign the papers when someone enters our community,” Mandacawan said, alluding to companies that are trying to exploit the resources in their ancestral domain.

Instead of resorting to “red-tagging” and “harassment,” she called on the government to support them by upholding their rights to education and environmental protection.

In a press release, Philippine National Police chief Gen. Debold Sinas said the children were brought to UCCP Haran in 2018 by a Salugpongan teacher only known as “Michelle,” and were transferred to Cebu City allegedly without the “knowledge and consent of the parents.”

He said the 19 “rescued” minors were brought from different parts Mindanao by members of the Salugpongan school “purportedly to undergo alternative learning” but were actually “undergoing some form of radicalization and revolutionary warfare indoctrination.”

He said the operation resulted in the arrest of seven persons who are now facing charges of kidnapping with serious illegal detention and trafficking in persons.

Mandacawan said the Lumad communities initiated the building of their schools in Barangays Palma Gil, Sto Niño, and Dagohoy in Talaingod to provide education for their children who have been deprived of it after the local government refused to support them.

She said they never supported the NPA, armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines.

Rorelyn Mandacawan, a Salugpongan school graduate who is now Sabokohan Unity of Lumad Women spokesperson, said Lumad children and their teachers had been subjected to harassment even before President Rodrigo Duterte heightened efforts to suppress the communist movement.

She said their schools were bombed and peppered with bullets and some of their teachers and students were gunned down, leaving many of them traumatized.

“We went to the city ourselves to study… because that’s our basic right as students. We don’t want only those students in the city to study. Come to think of it, Lumad students are just the same as the students in the city. We also want to learn so that we don’t become like our parents who never got the chance to study, cannot even read, cannot recognize letter A or Letter B. That makes us want to study even more because our tribe has high hopes for us, to govern our communities as leaders someday,” she said.

Videos of the “rescue” mission posted online showed the children and their companions yelling and crying while being taken away by the raiding team.

The Commission on Human Rights meanwhile said it found no evidence the children were indoctrinated in communist thought or forced to be at the USC campus, contrary to police claims.

The Makabayan bloc in Congress and other lawmakers have sought a House inquiry into the “Gestapolike” police operation. (Antonio L. Colina IV/MindaNews)

LANTAPAN, Bukidnon (MindaNews / 9 March) – Drawing support from their years of friendship, the Bangsamoro Transition Authority (BTA) asked the support of indigenous peoples as they seek for a three-year terminal extension in the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao (BARMM).

BTA Parliament Member and Minister of the Indigenous Peoples’ Affairs Timuay Melanio Ulama recalled their ties with the Lumads during the 10th year celebration of the Moro-IP-Settlers Kinship.

“Ten years ago we bonded together and today I asked again for that support,” Timuay told a gathering of Lumad elders in the Talaandig community in Barangay Songco here.

Tarpaulins indicating their support to the BTA proposal were all over the Talaandig village on Monday.

“We support the extension of the Bangsamoro transition,” reads one of the signs.

Other streamers congratulated the renewal of the Moro-IP-Settlers kinship.

Talaandig chief Datu Migketay Saway Victorino said the kinship between the three groups is being put to test again.

Victorino said like what the Lumads did 10 years ago when the BTA leaders were still seeking for the approval of the Bangsamoro Basic Law, they would be behind the latest advocacy of the Moros.

He said the Lumads in the past have always supported the Moros in their time of need.

“We again will help you in your quest for peace and development,” Victorino said.

The Moros, Lumads and settlers have been meeting here every March 8 to rekindle the special kinship between them, according to Victorino.

“No pandemic will stop our celebration,” he told the small Moro delegation who went to Songco last Monday. (Froilan Gallardo / MindaNews)

MALAYBALAY CITY (MindaNews / 12 March) – Various groups have called for the release of a Lumad child from Mindanao from the custody of the Department of Social Welfare (DSWD) and Philippine National Police regional offices in Cebu City after the two agencies ignored a court order to reunite her with her father.

The Cebu City Regional Trial Court Branch 20, acting on a habeas corpus petition filed last March 4 by the child’s father, Lope, ordered Thursday the release of the minor.

The child was among the 19 Lumad students who were “rescued” during a police operation from a “bawkit” school at the University of San Carlos in Balamban, Cebu City last Feb. 15. They had sought refuge there after schools for Lumad in Mindanao were closed for being accused as fronts for communist indoctrination.

In a statement Thursday demanding the child’s release, the Save Our Schools Network said they accompanied the father who went to DSWD-7 to fetch his child bringing along the court order, but elements of the Philippine National Police Region (PNP) 7 blocked them.

The group said four police cars, seven policemen, four members of Task Force Kasaligan surrounded the DSWD office and threatened arrest, compelling them to leave.

The court, in granting the petition, said: “No matter how respondents wish to characterize the Lumad child’s confinement at DSWD, the fact remains that she does not have freedom of movement, she cannot see anyone from outside (not even her own father) without the approval of respondents, and she does not have freedom and privacy of communication. The Court cannot see how these deprivations of her constitutional rights are in the Lumad child’s best interest.”

The court said the Parental Capability Assessment Report on the father “does not merit any consideration.”

“It strains credulity to see it as a fair assessment of the Lumad father’s parenting capability since it is based solely on information provided by people who have not seen him for a long time,” it said.

The assessment, which described the father as a neglectful parent, was done by the Office of the Municipal Social Welfare and Development in Pitogo, Zamboanga del Sur.

The court added: “Where the respondents see neglectful behavior, the Court sees a father asserting his parental authority over his minor. Moreover, if DSWD-7 and PRO-7 truly believe that the alleged lack of information on the whereabouts of the child’s mother is another indicator of neglectful parental behavior on the part of the father, then this Court hopes for the sake of single parents who also do not know the whereabouts of their former partners that the DSWD-7 and PRO-7 do not see them as neglectful parents as well.”

On respondents’ position that the father’s alleged failure to show that he has a permanent source of income further shows his unfitness as a parent, the court said it “finds this position disturbing.”

“Is poverty now a disqualifying factor for parental authority? In any case, the Lumad father has alleged in his petition that he has been supporting his child by sending P1,000 to P2,000 a month directly to her or through her teachers. It appears to the Court that DSWD-7 and PRO-7 consider the Lumad father’s reticence in providing personal details as proof of his unfitness as a parent. But maybe DSWD-7 and PRO-7 should also consider another perspective: it could be that the Lumad father’s reticence is just a sign of his distrust to the agencies in view of the continued confinement of his daughter at DSWD. The last time this Court checked, distrust of authority figures is not a ground for depriving someone of their child’s custody.”

The court also said that “bare allegations alone” that the father is a CPP/NPA member cannot deprive him of “such a fundamental right as parental authority over his child.”

In a press release after the raid on USC, Philippine National Police chief Gen. Debold Sinas said the 19 Lumad students were transferred to Cebu City from the United Church of Christ in the Philippines (UCCP) Haran Evacuation Center in Davao City in 2018 by a teacher from the Salugpongan Community Learning Center only known as “Michelle” allegedly without the “knowledge and consent of the parents.”

Sinas said the 19 “rescued” minors were brought from different parts Mindanao by members of the Salugpongan school “purportedly to undergo alternative learning” but were actually “undergoing some form of radicalization and revolutionary warfare indoctrination.”

But in a press conference at UCCP Haran last February 25, Lorena Mandacawan, a parent of one of the students said they consented to sending their children to study in Cebu after the government forcibly closed their school in their hometown. (H. Marcos C. Mordeno/MindaNews)

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 19 March) – Lumad leaders and eminent Mindanawon scholars are questioning the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples’ (NCIP) resolution red-tagging and banning the use of  “Lumad” to refer to Indigenous Peoples (IPs) in Mindanao, even as this Cebuano word has been used since the late 1970s as a collective term for at least 20 non-Moro IPs  across southern Philippines.

‘Lumad’ means indigenous or native.

The NCIP en banc passed on March 2 Resolution 08-009-2021 “denouncing the use of the term ‘Lumad’ to refer to indigenous cultural communities / indigenous peoples (ICCs/IPs)  particularly of Mindanao and enjoining the public to address ICCs/IPs by their respective ICC/IP affiliation or ethnolinguistic group.”

The NCIP claimed that the word’s “emergence and continued use is marred by its association with the CPP (Communist Party of the Philippines), NDF (National Democratic Front) and NPA (New Peoples’ Army) whose ideologies are not consistent with the cultures, practices and beliefs of ICCs/IPs.”

It claimed that in looking at the historical context of how the term ‘lumad’ emerged, “it is but just and proper, to put order and in order to correct the injustice committed” by the CPP, NDF, NPA “and to put a stop to the corruption of the IP struggle,” that the NCIP “condemns and denounces the use of the term ‘lumad’ to refer to the ICC/IP groups of the Philippines and more particularly to the ICC/IPs of Mindanao.”

“Lumad,” however, refers only to the IPs of Mindanao, specifically, the non-Moro IPs.

The NCIP cited only one source in its presentation of the “historical context” of  ‘Lumad,’ – Datu Lito Omos, who is active in the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict (NTF-ELCAC), and who traces the etymology of “Lumad” to 1986.

“Lumad” as a collective word for non-Moro IPs in Mindanao was first used in the 1970s.

The NCIP resolution wants the public to stop using  ‘Lumad’ to refer to Mindanao’s IPs but urged the public to “use the respective ethnolinguistic group or Indigenous Cultural Communities, Indigenous Peoples, Katutubong Pamayanang Kultural or Katutubong Pamayanan when referring to IPs collectively.”

‘Lumad’ is the shorter version of ‘Katawhang Lumad’ which literally means Indigenous Peoples.

Idiocy

Redemptorist Brother Karl Gaspar,  a Mindanawon anthropologist, sociologist, theologian and artist, told MindaNews that when he first heard about the NCIP’s resolution’s red-tagging and banning the use of the word ‘Lumad,’ he  didn’t know exactly how to react.

“I thought I would laugh at the idiocy of our public servants in the NCIP who are mandated to serve our indigenous communities,” Gaspar said.

“At one level, kataw-anan gyod! (it’s really funny). I even thought morag nabuang na man ning mga taga-NCIP oy (the NCIP is acting like crazy). However, this is no laughing matter for it shows us how seriously misinformed the NCIP powers-that-be are in terms of the history of the Lumad Social Movement in Mindanao. One can even refer to them as ignoramus for not having checked available secondary literature, so that their move would have scholarly basis,” he said.

Gaspar wrote “The Lumad Social Movement” for a course under Professor Prospero Covar, acknowledged one of the pillars of Philippine Anthropology, while pursuing his PhD in Philippine Studies at the University of the Philippines in the late 1990s and having been a church worker since the 1970s, “I could claim to have a privileged historical view of how the term Lumad arose.”   The essay was first published by the Alternative Forum for Research in Mindanao in 1997 and re-published in Aninaw, the journal of the Ateneo Institute of Anthropology at the Ateneo de Davao University in 2018.

He is also the author of several  books on Lumads, including ‘Manobo Dreams in Arakan: A People’s Struggle to Keep Their Homeland” which won the 2012 National Book Award for Social Sciences,

Gaspar told MindaNews that when he realized that the NCIP was “taking this whole issue seriously and other branches of the State apparatus joined in the chorus to ban the word Lumad,  I then realized how the anti-terror law is claiming more and more victims. This time, not just human persons are red-tagged, but innocent words like Lumad can also be red-tagged.”

He asked: “are we seeing the unfolding of a State that will now decide for us as to the vocabulary that we can use in referring to various individuals, groups, institutions? And if they succeed in demonizing the word Lumad, what other words will  also be red-tagged? And if this is no longer enough for their counter-insurgency drive to succeed, is the next move to burn books where words like Lumad appear?”

Gaspar also noted that at various historical junctures not just in this country but in many other nation-states throughout the world, “red-tagging has resulted in the deaths of innocent civilians and the untold suffering of communities victimized by this red scare.”

 “Profusely used”

The NCIP  said “Lumad” has been “profusely used” by government offices, public officials and the public. President Rodrigo Duterte, who hails from Mindanao, even posed holding a sheet of paper marked with the message “Stop Lumad Killings”  in September 2015, while still mayor of Davao City. As President, he also refers to  IPs in Mindanao as Lumads.

The NCIP resolution claimed the word ‘Lumad’ was adopted by members of the Lumad Mindanao Peoples Foundation (LMPF) on June 26, 1986 during its founding congress in Kidapawan, North Cotabato and that “an ensuing meeting of the LMPF was conducted at the University of San Carlos in Talamban, Cebu to lay down the framework to use the term ‘lumad.’ From then on, the term gained popularity and was widely used to refer to ICCs/IPs.”

The NCIP resolution  also claimed that the founding congress and subsequent meetings and activities of the LMPF “were initiated and sponsored” by the CPP, NDF, NPA.

There is no foundation named Lumad Mindanao Peoples Foundation. There was a  LUMAD-Mindanao, a Lumad Mindanaw, and a Lumad Mindanaw Peoples Federation which, according to  Jimid Mansayagan,  chair of its Governing Council, was founded in September 1994 as a “genuine indigenous peoples organization with vision of asserting the inherent inalienable and collective rights to identity, land territory, self-determination and self-governance.”

The NCIP erred not only in the spelling, name of their federation and date of founding but also in claiming that the LMPF is the handiwork of the left, Mansayagan said, adding the LMPF in fact was a product of the Lumad leaders’ renunciation of alliance with the left.

Land is Life

The University of San Carlos meeting that the NCIP resolution referred to was actually the 2^nd Land Congress on March 23 to 24, 1987, whose theme was “Land is Life.”

Mindanawon anthropologist Maricel Hilario-Patiño, told MindaNews that the Land Congress, was actually a follow-through of the policy consultation workshop called for by then Environment Secretary Carlos Dominguez (now Finance Secretary)  and attended by representatives of the Ungnayang Pang-aghamtao (UGAT or the Anthropological Association in the Philippines), along with “technocrats, professionals, academicians, big business concessioners, etc. in January 1987.”

The Land Congress in March was attended by “250 participants from 20 tribal organizations 10 support organizations and six representatives from the government sector” and among the personalities present were UGAT Founding President and 1986 Constitutional Commissioner Ponciano Bennagen;  Agusan del Sur OIC Governor Ceferino Paredes and his Provincial Attorney, Roan Libarios,  Gregorio Andolana, then Representative-elect of North Cotabato, Prof. Owen Lynch,  Fausto Lingating, Deputy Minister of the Office of Muslim Affairs and Cultural Communities and chair of the Consultative Assembly of Minority Peoples of the Philippines;

and representatives of various offices and the Policy Advisory Group of the DENR.

Omos in a press conference of the NTF-ELCAC said he was in this Congress and that UGAT convened the meeting.

What was discussed were the issues on ancestral lands and ancestral domains affecting not only the Lumads in Mindanao but also the other IPs nationwide.  The Congress was held just a month after the 1987 Constitution, which now vowed to address the historical injustices against the IPs nationwide, was ratified in a plebiscite.

The Land Congress was funded by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources through Secretary Dominguez, The Asia Foundation, SVD Provincialate, SSPS Cebu Communities, Episcopal Commission on Tribal Filipinos and University of San Carlos while the manuscript of the proceedings was printed courtesy of the Office for Southern Cultural Communities.

Hilario–Patiño  said that among the highlights of the Congress was the validation of the proposed Executive Order Creating the Commission on Ancestral Domain.

“Many leaders I have talked to described that this was the first draft of IPRA (Indigenous Peoples Rights Act),”  but she quoted Bennagen as saying that when this was submitted to President Aquino she said she would rather that it would pass through Congress because issuing Executive Orders is “like a Marcosian move.”

It took 10 years before Congress passed IPRA.

‘Bisaya’ as lingua franca

How “Lumad” became the collective term for non-Moro IPs in Mindanao, is traced to the late 1970s within the circles of the Catholic and Protestant churches with ministries for the IPs.  Another version traces it to a 1986 assembly in Kidapawan, North Cotabato during the founding Congress of  Lumad Mindanaw.

In both versions, however, the decision to use “Lumad” was reached by the IPs themselves, because while they came from various ethnic groups in Mindanao and spoke different languages, they could communicate with each other using Cebuano or what in Mindanao is commonly referred to as ‘Bisaya.’

“Lumad” was intended to  distinguish them from the Moro who are also indigenous to Mindanao, and from the ‘Bisaya’ which had earlier become a generic word for “settler.”

For a time, Mindanao was referred to as “tri-people,”  comprising the indigenous Moro and Lumad, and the  settler population.

Historian Rudy Rodil recalls that as team leader in 1974 for a Study on the National Cultural Minorities of Mindanao under the Mindanao Regional Development Project of the Mindanao Development Administration, he learned that when leaders from various tribes meet, “automatic nga Bisaya ang lingua franca” because “diha lang sila magkasinabot” (they would automatically speak in Bisaya because that is the only way they could understand each other).

He said all their field interviews in the IP areas were in Bisaya.  He recalled that even in the meeting of the Mindanao Highlanders Association or Mindahila, an organization of IP leaders, Bisaya was also the language used.

“Lumad” in the 1970s

In the 1970s, the use of the word ‘Lumad’ to refer to IPs in Mindanao started taking root during a series of conferences initiated by  Catholic and Protestant churches in Mindanao with IP leaders. Note that this was a period under martial law and among those who suffered human rights violations were the Moro and IPs of Mindanao.

Martial law, however, was just part of the long-running problem of Moro and IPs in Mindanao who were marginalized and minoritized during the Spanish and American regimes and later by the Manila-based central government. For decades starting with the agricultural colonies set up in 1913, residents from the Visayas and Luzon were enticed to settle in resource-rich Mindanao, then being touted as “Land of Promise.” Part of the enticement were land policies favoring wave after wave of migrants.

Soon thereafter, Mindanao was opened up for plantations, logging, mining and fishing operations, displacing thousands of Lumad and Moro peoples.

The Mindanao church – both Catholic and Protestant – was active in fighting for the rights of Mindanao’s IPs.

Among those at the forefront in advocating IP rights was Bishop Francisco Claver, an IP himself from Northern Luzon who was Prelate Ordinary when the Prelature of Malaybalay was established in 1969 and its first Bishop when it became a Diocese in 1982; Mindanao’s other bishops, priests and nuns, including foreign missionaries assigned to Mindanao for several years, and church workers.

Various church formations were also set up, in the 1970s including the Mindanao–Sulu Secretariat of Social Action (MISSSA), the secretariat for all Social Action Centers of the Archdioceses, Dioceses and Prelatures of Mindanao.

The MISSSA convened the  First Mindanao Regional Conference on Cultural Communities in Lake Sebu, Surallah, South Cotabato on February 5-7, 1974 “to give voice to the Mindanao minorities… a voice of anguish, frustration and fear; a voice crying out, almost without hope, appealing to the Christian communities of Mindanao.”

Exactly when the word ‘Lumad’ evolved into a collective term for  non-Moro IPs in Mindanao cannot be ascertained but based on documents gathered by MindaNews  and interviews with personalities who were active in church work in the 1970s, it was in the latter part of the decade.

There was even a newsletter named ‘Lumad,’ a publication of the Mindanao-Sulu Conference on Justice and Development (MSCJD) which Claver chaired. The publication focused on IP issues. Written in ‘Bisaya,’ its first issue was January-February 1979 and among the articles was a report on a Regional Consultation on December 18 to 22, 1978 in Midsayap, North Cotabato.

“Pahayag sa mga Lumad”

A seven-paragraph “Pahayag sa mga Lumad” (Declaration of the Lumads) dated December 21, 1978, crafted during that conference, was also included in the newsletter.

The declaration asked “Kinsa kami” (who are we) and “Unsay nahitabo” (what is happening to us) and “Ngano nga naghimo kami niining pahayag?” (why are we making this declaration?)

Responding to their own query on who they are, the Declaration said: “Kami ang mga lumad sa Mindanao sama sa (We are the Lumads of Mindanao such as the) Manobo, Subanon, Tiruray, B’laan, Higa-ono, Tagabawa” who gathered in Midsayap for the assembly called for by the National Council of Churches in the Philippines and the MSCJD, to share experiences on problems affecting their communities in Mindanao, analyze their situation and plan on how to address these issues.

The participants said they made the declaration because of the spate of human rights violations  that they experienced, including oppression, discrimination, harassment and trampling of  their rights as “lumad sa Mindanao” (Lumads of Mindanao).

The declaration said they hope government, the church and other groups would attend to them so their communities can thrive  and they can live in peace.

Pop culture

Beyond the church and Lumad communities, the use of “Lumad” to refer to IPs became so popular it encouraged migrants who settled in Mindanao to want to learn more about the Lumads and their cultures. There was a surge in pride of being “Lumad,” too, as they were now given platforms where they could speak up and share their music and dances, among others.

Going “Lumad” became the “in” thing. Nieva’s Crafts, a Davao City-based business enterprise, launched its “Lumad” brand in 1981 featuring ethnic designs.

Singer-composer-poet Joey Ayala, now a nominee for National Artist, told MindaNews he coined the term “Bagong Lumad” (literally ‘new native’)  around 1980-1981” while still based in Davao City and used it “in the mid-1980s for a show at UP with Patatag.” He said the band “Bagong Lumad” was formed around 1985 to 1986.

Ayala also founded Bagong Lumad Artists Foundation, Inc. in 1988 to, among others, “reawaken indigenous consciousness.”

The Lumads were also featured in Noe’s Ark shirts designed by the late graphic artist Noe Tio, who was drummer of Bagong Lumad.

LUMAD-Mindanao

Mansayagan recalls that in 1983, a multisectoral organization named LUMAD-Mindanao was established with lawyer Fausto Lingating, a Subanen from Lapuyan, Zamboanga del Sur, as founding chair. LUMAD meant Lumadnong Alyansa  alang sa Demokrasya.

On April 2, 1985, human rights lawyer Romfraflo Taojo, then chair of LUMAD-Mindanao, was gunned down in his apartment in what is now Tagum City in Davao del Norte.

Mansayagan said an assembly was held in August 1985 supposedly to choose Taojo’s successor but choosing a successor proved to be difficult as many feared they would end up like Taojo.  In May 1985, a month after Taojo’s murder, three human rights lawyers in Davao City – Laurente Ilagan, Antonio Arellano and Marcos Risonar — were arrested on the strength of a Preventive Detention Action.

But it was in this August 1985 conference, Mansayagan said, where the IP leaders asserted they wanted a “pure Lumad” organization.

The non-Lumad in the assembly, he said, formed the support group, KADUMA-Lumad or Kahugpugan sa mga Dumadapig ug Nakig-unong sa Lumad while an Ad Hoc Committee composed of Lumad leaders from different parts of Mindanao was formed for the “pure Lumad” organization.

By first week of November 1985,  President Ferdinand Marcos, who had by then overstayed his term of office by 12 years (he declared martial law on September 21, 1972; his second and last term as President was supposed to have ended on December 30, 1973), announced  in an interview with America’s David Brinkley that he was calling for snap elections on February 7, 1986.

1986 Assembly

The dictator Marcos was ousted and Corazon Aquino, widow of the assassinated former Senator Benigno Aquino, was sworn in as President on February 25, 1986.

In June 1986, Mansayagan, then 26, said, the founding assembly of  the “pure Lumad” organization – Lumad Mindanaw – was held in Kidapawan City.

There, he said, IP leaders discussed  the many issues they were facing and towards the end of the assembly, discussed the appropriate word that would collectively refer to the different ethnic groups in Mindanao who are not Moro.

The consensus of the IP leaders,  he said,  was “Katawhang Lumad” which is ‘Bisaya’ for Indigenous Peoples.  The founding chair, he said, was Datu Balitungtong Antonio Lumandong, a Higaonon from Misamis Oriental. Omos, a Mangguangan from Davao del Norte, was its Secretary-General in the first two years.

Mansayagan said that in July 1987, Omos was the first Lumad who attended the sessions of the United Nations Working Group on Indigenous Peoples and that is how “Lumad Peoples” was first recorded in the United Nations as, according to Mansayagan, “the identity of Mindanao un-Islamized indigenous population.”

Rodil was  present at the assembly at the Guadalupe Formation Center on June 26, 1986 as a resource person on Mindanao history. He was then a Professor at the Mindanao State University – Iligan Institute of Technology in Iligan City and he recalls listening to the exchanges of the IP leaders on the collective name and the word “Lumad” won.

The historian remembers it was Fr. Rodulfo ‘Dong’ Galenzoga, who facilitated the discussion. MindaNews e-mailed the priest early Sunday morning to ask him about what he remembers of that meeting. He succumbed to pneumonia noon that day in a hospital in Iligan City.

Mansayagan recalls it was a long discussion initially facilitated by Nestor Masinaring and later by Galenzoga.

Rodil said that during this meeting, “wala ko nakadungog ug NPA or LMPF. Isip historian mao ang akong gigamit sa akong libro ug sa tanan nakong public lectures. Historic kato, first time nga nakasabot sa collective name sa mga Lumad. Simple ang meaning, indigenous, native, nitibo, taga Mindanaw ug lahi sa mga Moro or Bangsamoro” (I heard nothing of the NPA or the LMPF. As a historian, I used the word ‘Lumad’ in my books and all my public lectures. It was historic, first time the IPs agreed on a collective name with a simple meaning, indigenous, native, from Mindanao and distinct from the Moro).

Here was a collective name that the Lumads themselves did not find pejorative unlike the collective names given them by the Spaniards, Americans and even by the national government.

Rodil said the Lumads were described by the Spaniards as “paganos,” by the Americans as “Wild Tribes” or “Uncivilized Tribes” or “Non-Christian Tribes;” by the national government as “National Cultural Minorities,” “Cultural Minorities,” or “Minorities.”  In the 1973 Constitution, the IPs nationwide were referred to as Cultural Communities and in the 1987 Constitution as “Indigenous Cultural Communities.”

Common term

Italian-American missionary Peter Geremia, PIME, who headed the IP Apostolate in the Diocese of Kidapawan for decades, recalls that in the early 1980’s when they had consultations with the IPs in the Diocese of Kidapawan “we asked them if they have a common term for all tribes in Mindanao.  They replied that they used the term of each tribe like Manobo, B’laan, etc.”

He said a common term was proposed: “Talaingod and therefore, the first organization including different tribes was called NAKATA or Nagkahiusang Katawhang Talaingod.”

But Geremia noted that the term “Talaingod” was not widely used.

“The Bisaya used the term ‘Lumad’ for all tribes in Mindanao” but when the Diocese  organized the Tribal Filipino Program, they preferred the term ‘Tribal Filipino,’  he said.

“Some Tribal Leaders did not like the term ‘Lumad’ but it was widely used also by many Tribals,” Geremia told MindaNews on Tuesday.

He remembers the assembly in Kidapawan in 1986 when Lumad Mindanaw was  born “but I do not remember if there were objections to the term  ‘Lumad.’  I never heard that the term ‘Lumad’ was initiated or sponsored by the CPP-NPA-NDF, I only heard that it was the common term used by the Bisaya.”

Geremia recalled that some Lumad Mindanaw leaders were later “tagged leftist or sympathizers of the NPA.”

Mansayagan said “Lumad Mindanaw” died on the day Lumad Mindanaw Peoples Federation was born in September 1994, during the general assembly of Lumad Mindanaw in Alabel, Sarangani where they also renounced alliance with the left.

“The end of Lumad Mindanaw was the beginning of LMPF,” he said, adding that they restructured the organization into a “genuine indigenous peoples organization with vision of asserting the inherent, alienable and collective rights to identity and / territory, self-determination and self-governance.”

He said they have identified about 30 groups of  “Katawhang Lumad” (Indigenous Peoples) in Mindanao who are asserting their rights to identity, ancestral domains and self-determination.

“Ridiculous”

Anthropologist Gus Gatmaytan, Director of the Ateneo de Davao University’s Institute of Anthropology described the NCIP resolution as “ridiculous.”

Gatmaytan said “Lumad” was adopted in the 1980s by Lumad leaders from different parts of Mindanao “who realized that they had shared or common experiences of insecurity, dispossession and violence during the years of Marcos’ Martial Law regime, and that they now needed a collective name that would refer to them as a group, and distinguish them from the Moro and settler populations of Mindanao.”

Gatmaytan stressed that the use of ‘Lumad’ as a collective term for IPs of Mindanao does not contradict the fact that they have their own ethnic names for themselves. “Identity is a complex and relational concept and process that allows a person to be an individual, an Arumanen Manobo, a Lumad, and a Filipino, depending on the context and their will,” he said.

Right to self-ascription, self-determination

Gatmaytan said it can be argued that “the gradual adoption of the name Lumad is an agentive act on the part of the various groups in Mindanao, reflecting a realization that as a group they had similar histories, problems and aspirations, which together serve as the basis for a shared sense of identity; an identity which they chose to refer to as Lumad.”

Their continuing use of the name Lumad, he added, is “an exercise of their right to self-ascription, which is itself rooted in their fundamental right to self-determination.”

“To say that the indigenous people of Mindanao were somehow manipulated into using the term Lumad, as the NCIP seems to be saying, is to assert that they are merely gullible minions of outsiders, incapable of understanding who they are, what they need and want, and planning their future,” he said.

Gatmaytan explained that if the IPs, groups, communities or individuals choose to refer to themselves as Lumad, “then that is their inherent and inalienable right.”

“No one — not the NCIP nor the Philippine state — can gainsay their decision to do so; nor can anyone ‘ban’ their use of any name they choose to use.  The NCIP should need no reminder to honor and respect the indigenous peoples’ exercise of their right to their identities, and to denote their identities in any manner or with whatever name they want.  It should refrain from any further attempt to politicize and control indigenous identity, and instead focus on the many, more urgent concerns and issues that the indigenous peoples face,” he said.

Focus on “bigger issue”

Gaspar said the use of  “Lumad” to refer to IPs “did not arise out of an ideological movement for an ideological reason. And as befits the origin of words that become part of a lexicon of a social movement, one cannot trace anymore where it first arose and who made the first move to start using the word. Somehow in the course of time, the word got appropriated and eventually took on a meaning for those using the term within the world of meaning for which it arose. And now an agency of a dictatorial State apparatus would claim the right to determine its origin? What an idiotic thing to do!!!”

Marites “Matet” Gonzalo, a Tagakolu anthropologist from Davao Occidental who serves as Coordinator of the two community-based IP schools of the Malita Tagakaulo Mission — the Holy Cross of Malita’s Kyasan and Lebleb branches — told MindaNews on Thursday that they have no issue with the word “Lumad” because they use the term “referring to ourselves” when they talk to those outside their communities.

Gonzalo said the Church has an “Adlaw sa Lumad” or IP Sunday or what was earlier known as Tribal Filipino Sunday.  She said they also have a Lumadnong Katesismo or Indigenous Catechesis and even have a song about their being Lumad like “Kitadun tengteng Lumad” or “We are Lumads.”

The word ‘Lumad,’ Gonzalo said, is not the issue. The bigger issue that needs to be addressed, she said, is the situation of the Lumads who are “pirming maipit ug magamit sa left and right nga grupo” (who are always the ones victimized and abused by groups from the left and right). (Carolyn O. Arguillas / MindaNews)

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews) – The Episcopal Commission on Indigenous Peoples (ECIP) of the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP)  and the Indigenous People’s Apostolate (IPA) of Mindanao’s dioceses are protesting “in the strongest possible terms” the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) resolution denouncing the use of the term ‘Lumad’ to refer to non-Moro Indigenous Peoples in Mindanao and enjoining the public “to address the IPs by their respective ICC/IP affiliation or ethnolinguistic group.”

“Lumad” is a Cebuano word meaning indigenous or native.

The NCIP claimed that that the  “emergence and continued use” of the word Lumad is is “marred by its association with the CPP (Communist Party of the Philippines), NDF (National Democratic Front) and NPA (New Peoples’ Army) whose ideologies are not consistent with the cultures, practices and beliefs of ICCs/IPs.”

MindaNews reported last week on the  usage of the word ‘Lumad’ to refer to non-Moro IPs in Mindanao, tracing it to the the late 1970s (Read: “The IP struggle continues as NCIP red-tags and bans the use of ‘Lumad,’ the collective term for Mindanao IPs since the late 1970s”)

Signed by Cagayan de Oro Archbishop Jose Cabantan on behalf of ECIP-Mindanao and IPA network, the “Statement of Protest against the NCIP’s resolution denouncing the use of the term Lumad,” was posted on the ECIP Facebook page last Monday and the online CBCPNews.

The ECIP-IPA Mindanao said they would like to set the record straight that “it was the churches in Mindanao-Sulu – through its network of church people engaged in solidarity work with the Lumad communities – that gave rise to the popular usage of the word Lumad. It arose without an ideological agenda, let alone that of the communist movement.”

“It did arise out of a united people’s concern to defend the rights of the Lumad from the perspective of a Christian faith that is concerned with the least of our brothers and sisters victimized by both an repressive State and business firms interested in usurping the Lumads’ ancestral domains for profit purposes,” the statement added.

It urged the NCIP “not to be derailed in their mandate to serve the IPs of this country by engaging in actions that are only counter-productive and can only lead to fragmentations among our ranks. Instead, the NCIP should concentrate in fulfilling their tasks to support the struggles of the IPs for a better life, lived in justice and peace, free from coercion, harassment and victimization from various forces.”

“On our part, we pledge to continue what we have done in the past sixty years, to align ourselves in the struggles of our Lumad sisters and brothers.  By doing so, we are merely following the exhortations of our Holy Father, Pope Francis who has reminded us through his encyclical Laudato Si and talks at various fora that  ‘Indigenous peoples are a cry of hope. They know what it is to listen to the earth, to see the earth, to touch the earth. They remind us that we human beings have a shared responsibility to care for our ‘common home’.’”

It concluded its four-page statement by saying that it is “by engaging in generous dialogue and by joining forces,  that we will end up becoming more aware of the fact that we need each other, as well as be able to highlight the fact that harmful behavior affecting the environment around us also has a negative impact on the serenity and fluidity of coexistence” and the Lumads “cannot continue to suffer injustice” and young people “have a right to a better world than ours and expect coherent and

The ECIP’s mission is to “work for and with Indigenous Peoples in their effort, first, to secure justice for themselves, second, to protect their ancestral lands, and third, to preserve their cultural heritage.”

It also aims to foster among the Christian majority “a greater awareness of and appreciation for the Indigenous Peoples in order to help in lessening, if not totally eradicating, prejudices against them” and to undertake specific programs “for the realization of the above functions with the approval of the Bishops concerned and in collaboration with their respective Indigenous Peoples’ Apostolate, inclusive of complying with the directives from the Holy See and instructions from the Conference.” (MindaNews)

(Presented by Dr. Augusto “Gus” Gatmaytan on 25 March 2021 during the roundtable discussion “What’s in a Name? Views from Anthropologists on ‘Lumad,’” the first of a two-part series triggered by the resolution of the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples on the use of ‘Lumad,’ a collective term that has been used to refer to Indigenous Peoples in Mindanao since the late 1970s. The second part, ‘Kinsa ang mga Lumad? Views from Indigenous Leaders’ is on March 27. The two-part series was organized by the Ugnayang Pangagham-Tao or Anthropological Association of the Philippines).

This roundtable discussion was prompted by the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP’s)  Resolution no. 08-009-2021, dated 2 March 2021, denouncing the use of the term ‘Lumad’ to refer to indigenous peoples of Mindanao.

Please allow me then to focus my remarks on this resolution.

The NCIP’s resolution claims that indigenous leaders are ‘clamoring’ for an end to the use of the name ‘Lumad’ to refer to the indigenous peoples of Mindanao. If there is such a clamor, then it is a very quiet one. I have been working with indigenous communities across Mindanao since the 1980s, and I have not encountered any indigenous leader actively campaigning against the use of the name ‘Lumad.’

Certainly, there have been and are people who dislike it, or do not use it, or cannot relate to it, but this hardly amounts to a ‘clamor.’ What evidence is there of this ‘clamor’? Everyone was getting on with their lives until the NCIP came up with this invented crisis. Why is the NCIP trying to project the existence of such a ‘clamor’?

The resolution states that the ‘emergence’ of the name ‘Lumad’ is ‘marred’ by its association with the Communist Party of the Philippines-New People’s Army-National Democratic Front (CPP-NPA-NDF). As the Ecumenical Commission on Indigenous Peoples (ECIP) recently pointed out however, the ‘emergence’ of the term is linked to the pioneering pastoral work of the Catholic Church in Mindanao and Sulu in the 1970s, which developed without an ideological agenda, even as it strove to support indigenous communities suffering at the hands of a repressive state and exploitative business interests.

It  would thus seem that rather than the CPP-NPA-NDF coining or appropriating the term, they were only following the lead of the Church and its indigenous community-partners by ‘riding on’ their growing or continuing use of the name. But even if the CPP-NPA-NDF did use the name in their organizing or fund-raising work, what of it? Should we similarly stop using the words ‘Islam’ or ‘Islamic’ because it has been marred by its association with the Maute group and the extremist interpretation of Islam championed by ISIS?

The resolution decries how the name ‘Lumad’ is ‘not an indigenous term.’ However, there is no pan-Mindanao indigenous term for the aboriginal peoples of the island, taken as a group. The resolution does offer alternative terminology, but these are all in English or Filipino/Tagalog. ‘Lumad’ may be a Visayan term, but at least it does not recall our colonial subjugation or reiterate the political and cultural dominance of imperial Manila. More importantly, it was the indigenous communities of Mindanao themselves who gradually adopted or appropriated the name ‘Lumad’  as a way of asserting a shared identity or location. In other words, they have made it their own; just as the Bangsamoro have made the very non-indigenous term ‘Moro’ their own.

The resolution argues that ‘Lumad’ should not be used because the LMPF leaders who allegedly adopted the term are not the ‘recognized representatives’ of the indigenous peoples of Mindanao. First, it is not clear at all if it was the LMPF that first adopted the name ‘Lumad.’ Given the information brought to light by Carol Arguillas of MindaNews, that the name had been in use since the late 1970s, the resolution’s claim becomes highly debatable. Other groups or individuals might have previously adopted the name already, but had neglected to document the occasion. Second, this argument betrays its proponents’ lack of historical awareness.

In the 1980s and 1990s, there was no island-wide mechanism for selecting the ‘recognized representatives’ of all indigenous peoples of Mindanao. On one hand, the indigenous groups of Mindanao have historically been uncentralized, acephalous polities, organized into largely autonomous settlements or villages. On the other, there were in the 1980s and 1990s only separate, relatively small networks of communities and leaders, linked together by Churches, or by NGOs, or by indigenous peoples organizing initiatives, or by local politicians, or by the Presidential Assistant on National Minorities (PANAMIN) and the Office of Southern Cultural Communities (OSCC).

What seems to have happened is that indigenous leaders, advocates or organizations — on their own, or taking their cue from Church workers, non-government organizations (NGOs), or yes, leftist ideologues — began to refer to themselves as ‘Lumad.’ This appropriation of the Visayan word ‘Lumad’ represents the historical moment when indigenous leaders in communities across Mindanao, who until that point had been relatively isolated from each other, realized that they shared histories of displacement, violence, and discrimination; faced a common set of problems; and similarly aspired to recognition and development. These shared characteristics provided the basis for a collective identity, an identity they have over time chosen to refer to as ‘Lumad.’

As members of marginalized groups, these leaders and advocates could not force other peoples, groups or communities to do the same. But over the succeeding forty years, other indigenous organizations and communities all across Mindanao, have similarly adopted or used the name ‘Lumad.’ This suggests that with their growing links to the political, economic and cultural mainstream, more and more indigenous communities and organizations have also begun to think of themselves not as isolated communities, but as a part of the indigenous peoples of Mindanao, taken as a group. This is the beginning of a pan-Mindanao indigenous consciousness, and of what Karl Gaspar calls the ‘Lumad social movement.’

This is not to say that they have abandoned their own names for their own peoples. The politics and processes of identity formation allows someone, for example, to be:

1.an individual;
2.a member of a family, as designated by a surname or family name;
3.a member of the Arumanen Manobo of Carmen, North Cotabato;
4.a member of the Cotabato Manobo group, along with the Ilianen and Kirintiken Manobo,
but not the Umayamnon or Adgawanon Manobo of the Agusan region;
5.a Lumad, along with the Subanen and Mandaya, but not the Kalinga or the Buhid;
6.a member of the indigenous population of the Philippines;
7.and a Filipino.

The complex and fluid nature of identity formation provides members of indigenous groups different ways of referring to one’s self or one’s group in differing contexts, and/or for different purposes. These various ways of describing one’s self do not contradict each other. One does not surrender one’s identity as Higaunon or B’laan by using the name ‘Lumad,’ any more than being a proud Cebuano makes one less Filipino. No one is confused by this, except perhaps for the NCIP.

In the field, it is the indigenous communities’ own names for themselves that are used in local settings. The term ‘Lumad’ is employed only as a sort of casual or conversational alternative for the local people’s name, or when referencing the indigenous peoples of Mindanao as a group; e.g., to compare the situation of indigenous peoples in Mindanao with those of Palawan. In other words, it is used as a collective name to refer to the indigenous peoples of Mindanao, in the way that ‘Igorot’ or ‘Kaigorotan’ and ‘Moro’ or ‘Bangsamoro’ are collective terms for groups of peoples who share certain historical, political and cultural characteristics.

What is more, people in the communities do not narrowly associate the term with the left. Indigenous groups, organizations and leaders of different political persuasions use the name to refer to the aboriginal peoples of Mindanao, as a group. Thus community residents speak of Lumad who are members of the CAFGU, of Lumad who are members of the NPA, and of Lumad who are neither.

The resolution finally asserts that there are no ancestral domains or territories under the name of ‘Lumad’, implying that there is no such things as a ‘Lumad’. It is true that there are no territories under the name of ‘Lumad,’ but this proves nothing. The name ‘Lumad’ was not intended to replace the various endonyms of indigenous peoples of Mindanao, nor is it used that way. Members of indigenous peoples or communities know that they are T’boli, for example; and that their domains and territories belong to them as members of the T’boli people, not as ‘Lumad.’ It is not surprising then that they claim their ancestral domains as T’boli.

Having said that, there are still circumstances when they might find the name ‘Lumad’ to be useful.

The NCIP resolution thus fails to justify its call for ending the use of the name ‘Lumad.’ What the NCIP resolution does achieve is to reflect this moment in our political history, when we witness the dawn of an Orwellian dystopia where the state seeks to control how people think by controlling how people use language. It seeks to persuade people that using the name ‘Lumad’ is to be associated somehow with the CPP-NPA-NDF.

In doing this, the NCIP has arrogated unto itself the power to determine who the indigenous peoples are, and how they are to be called. But this right belongs not to the NCIP, nor even to the Philippine state. — which is historically responsible for much of the injustices and inequities suffered by indigenous peoples — but to the indigenous peoples themselves.

Indigenous peoples have the right to self-ascription, which is itself rooted in their fundamental right to self-determination. They have the right to determine, among other things, their own name or names. There are examples of Philippine groups choosing how they are to be called: The best-known example are the Ilongot of Nueva Vizcaya, who sometime in the 1980s began to call themselves Bugkalot. Here in Mindanao, the Bukidnon of Songco, in Bukidnon province now call themselves Talaandig; and some of the Manobo communities in the Davao-Bukidnon boundary area now call themselves Matigsalug.

These choices have all been respected; why should the case of ‘Lumad’ be any different? If indigenous organizations or communities wish to call themselves ‘Lumad’ to reference their being part of the indigenous population of Mindanao, then that is similarly their right. The NCIP should honor and respect their will, refrain from agitating or terrorizing others from using it, and listen to and learn from their Lumad constituents.

(Augusto “Gus” B. Gatmaytan, PhD, has been working with Indigenous Peoples since 1985. He obtained his law degree in 1987 from the University of the Philippines, after which he co-founded the Legal Rights and Natural Resources Center (LRC), a non-government organization that today continues to provide legal and other services to indigenous communities across the Philippines. In the 1990s, the worked with Manobo and Banwaon communities in Agusan del Sur province as legal consultant and community organizer. In 1999, he was among the lawyers who defended the constitutionality of the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act in oral arguments before the Supreme Court of the Philippines, in the case of Cruz and Europa vs. Secretary of the Environment, et al. His work with indigenous communities in Mindanao inspired him to study Anthropology, eventually receiving his doctorate in that discipline from the London School of Econoomics and Political Science in 2015. He currently teaches at the Ateneo de Davoao University and is Director of the Ateneo Institute of Anthropology)

First of seven parts

(Editor’s note: This article is a slight revision of the lectures the author delivered between the years 1999 and 2000 to two major audiences — the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility in Metro Manila and the Bishops-Ulama Forum, now known as Bishops-Ulama Conference, in Davao City.)

Introduction

The Lumads are the indigenous peoples of Mindanaw. They constitute approximately five percent, clearly the minority, of the total Mindanaw population in the 1990 census. The rest of the inhabitants in the region are Muslims, also indigenous, estimated at 20 percent; settlers and their descendants roughly make up the balance of 75 percent. It should be pointed out that a good portion of or assimilated into the latter segment are descendants of native inhabitants who were converted to Christianity in the Spanish period, mostly from northern and eastern Mindanaw.

How they became minorities is the story of this paper. Not only have they been reduced to a numerical minority in their own lands, they have also been marginalized in other aspects of our national life. Their minoritization involved mainly the state machinery, with unwitting participation from the major segments of the population. It is not our intention to find fault, merely to lay down the facts in the hope that we may be able to help secure for them a well deserved social space in the Filipino nation. Their situation is not beyond help.

The Lumad Communities and Their Ancestral Domains in Mindanaw 

The Lumads are the Indigenous Cultural Communities of Mindanaw, namely, in alphabetical order: the Ata, Bagobo, Banwaon, Bla-an, Bukidnon, Dibabawon, Higaunon, Mamanwa, Mandaya, Mangguwangan, Manobo, Mansaka, Matigsalug, Subanen, Tagakaolo, Talaandig, T’boli, Teduray and Ubo.

We have 19 in the list but there can be more because aside from distinguishing themselves by their ethno-linguistic identity, they also, and more commonly, refer to each other by their geographic names or their place of habitation. It can easily increase to 35, using their own definition of tribu (tribe).

Origin of the Name Lumad and its Significance

The name Lumad grew out of the political awakening among them during the martial law regime of President Ferdinand Marcos. In June 1986, representatives from 15 tribes agreed to adopt a common name in a congress, which also established Lumad Mindanaw. This is the first time in their history that these tribes have agreed to a common name for themselves, distinct from the Moros and from the migrant majority.

Lumad is a Cebuano word meaning indigenous. The choice of a Cebuano word may be a bit ironic — Cebuano is the language of the natives of Cebu in the Visayas — but they deemed it to be most appropriate considering that the various tribes do not have any other common language among themselves except Cebuano. Lumad Mindanaw, the organization, is no longer intact, but the name remains and is, from all indications, gaining more adherents. The use of Cebuano Bisaya in northern-eastern Mindanaw has been there, already noted by the Spanish missionaries when they got there in 1590s. This is easily observed that east of Cebu as far as Bohol, Leyte and Samar and northern-eastern side of Mindanaw, their languages are heavily influenced by Cebuano; on the west, that part of Negros is Cebuano-influenced but that portion facing Panay, it is heavily Ilonggo-influenced. It is very important to note that this phenomenon took place prior to the resettlement programs imposed by the American colonialists and carried over by the Republic of the Philippines. In short, contact via trade and language easily travelled across the sea. But notice that large islands like Mindanaw and Luzon, contact in between communities was extremely more difficult by overland travel, thus, more languages emerged as a result. Linguist experts can tell us more about this reality on the ground.

Lumad-Mindanaw’s main objective was to achieve self-determination for their member tribes, meaning self-government within their ancestral domains and in accordance with their customary laws under the sovereignty of the Republic. The decision to have a common name was crucial and historic. This was a first in Lumad history.

Earlier, they were called by various names by outsiders, which they shared with other indigenous groups all over the country. They were labeled paganos by the Spaniards or referred to simply by their tribal identities. They were tagged Wild Tribes or Uncivilized Tribes or non-Christian Tribes by the Americans. They were officially named the National Cultural Minorities or just Cultural minorities or simply Minorities by the Philippine Government. They were renamed Cultural Communities in the 1973 Constitution; this was revised to Indigenous Cultural Communities in the 1987 Charter. Bisayans call them nitibo; Tagalogs call them taga-bundok or katutubo. Christian churches used to prefer the name Tribal Filipinos but today they are among the more active users of the name Lumad, and in a more respectful tone. Except for paganos, all these denominations also included the Moros.

Commonality Among Lumad Communities and Other Inhabitants of Mindanaw

Although the different Lumad communities do not have a common language, they actually have so much in common among themselves and with the other indigenous inhabitants of the region as well. Firstly, like the rest of the Philippine population, they share a common origin in the Malayo-Polynesian family of languages. Secondly, among themselves, according to a recent linguistic study,  a large segment or fully 17 groups belong to the Manobo subfamily of languages, thus pointing convincingly to a common origin among them.

Thirdly, this similarity of origin is acknowledged, each in its own way, among the Moro people and the Lumad by their folk tradition. For example, among the Kalibugan/Kolibogan of Titay, they speak of two brothers as their ancestors, both Subanen. Dumalandalan was converted to Islam while Gumabon-gabon was not. Among the Subanen of Lapuyan, Zamboanga del Sur, they talk of four brothers as their ancestors. Tabunaway was the ancestor of the Magindanaw; Dumalandalan the Meranaw; Mili-rilid of the Teduray, and Gumabon-gabon of the Subanen.

The Manobo of Cotabato and the Magindanaw say that brothers Tabunaway and Mamalu are their common ancestors, although they differ on which of the two was converted to Islam. In the Manobo version, it was Mamalu who became Muslim; in the Magindanaw version, it was Tabunaway. The Manobo version further states that they share the same ancestor with the Ilyanun, the Matigsalug, the Talaandig, and the Meranaw.

In the Teduray tradition, the same brothers Tabunaway and Mamalu are acknowledged as their ancestors.

The Higaunon communities recognize a common ancestry with the Meranaw in their folklore especially in the border areas of Bukidnon and Lanaw. They also believe that the Talaandig belong to their same ethnolinguistic group. Common Higaunon-Meranaw ancestry is pronounced in the Bukidnon folklore where they speak of two brothers Bowan and Bala-oy, one of whom is said to be the ancestor of the Meranaw.

Among the Talaandig of Bukidnon, their great ancestor Apu Agbibilin is acknowledged as the common ancestor of the Talaandig, Magindanaw, Malanao (their pronunciation) and Manobo tribes who were saved at the highest peak of Mt. Kitanglad during the great flood.

Among the Bla-an (pronounced by them as two syllables, accent on the second syllable) of Davao del Sur, South Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, Maguindanaw and Cotabato, they speak of common ancestry with other ethnolinguistic groups. In an interview with a Bla-an tribal leader of Danlag, Tampakan, South Cotabato, this author got the following account, which should be quoted here lengthily:

“It was Almabet, their creator, who gave them that name. Almabet created eight people, first the Bla-an, then the others, namely, Tabali (T’boli), Ubo (Manobo), Alnawen (Maguindanaw Muslim), Teduray, Klagan, Matigsalug, and Mandaya. He called them by these names. They would later be the ancestors of ethnic groups of the same names. Lands were assigned to them. Kolon Nadal (Koronadal) was given to the Bla-an. Almabet ascended from Melbel (Marbel). From here they (Bla-an) went to Kolon Bia-o (Columbio), to Buluan which they partly share with the Alnawen (Maguindanaw Muslim), to other parts of the present South Cotabato, and to Datal Pitak in Matanao in the present Davao del Sur. The Tabali went to Lake Sebu. The rest went to their respective places. Although they claim common ancestry with these other groups, their languages are not mutually intelligible.”

The Kalagan and the Tagakaolo belong to the same ethno-linguistic group.

Ancestral Domains of the Lumad of Mindanaw

Traditionally, the Subanen have inhabited the Zamboanga peninsula, with larger concentrations in the following specific areas: Dapitan or Illaya Valley, Dipolog Valley specifically in Diwan, Punta and Sinaman, Manukan Valley, Sindangan, Panganuran in the present town of Gutalac, Coronado in the present town of Baliguian, Siocon, Kipit in the present town of Labason, Malayal and Patalun (now Lintangan) both in the present town of Sibuco, Bolong Valley, Tupilak and Bakalan Valleys in the town of Ipil, Lei-Batu Valley, Sibugai-Sei Valley, Dumankilas Bay, Dipolo Valley, Lubukan Valley, Labangan Valley and Mipangi Valley. Other concentrations are also found in the present towns of Katipunan, Roxas, Sergio Osmeña, Sr., Leon Postigo, Salug, Godod and Siayan.

The Higaunon, also known as the Bukidnon, traditionally speaks of their territories as the Walu Ha Talugan, the eight territories named after big rivers: Odiongan (Gingoog), Agusan, Kabulig (Claveria), Tagoloan, Lanaw, Cagayan, Pulangi (Bukidnon) and Balatukan (Balingasag). Roughly, these would be from the Agusan del Norte and Agusan del Sur west of Agusan river across Misamis Oriental and northern Bukidnon as far as Rogongon in Iligan City.

Sharing a common ancestry with the Higaunon, the Talaandig are concentrated mainly around the Mt. Kitanglad area in the province of Bukidnon. Their chieftain lives in Songco, Lantapan, Bukidnon. In their tradition, their great ancestor Apu Aliga, was recognized as the keeper of the territorial boundaries of the ancestral domains of the early Talaandig, Magindanaw, Manobo and Malanao tribes.

The Manobo are traditional inhabitants of several portions of Mindanaw: at the east side of Agusan river in the Agusan river valley as far as the region below Tago river in Surigao del Norte down to Surigao del Sur; in Bukidnon south; in Sigaboy north of the Cape of San Agustin in Davao Oriental; along the coastal stretch from Padada in Davao del Sur down to Sarangani Bay in South Cotabato; in Sultan Kudarat, and in Cotabato.

The Banwaon also live in the Agusan del Sur south of the Higaunon territory.

The Mamanwa have been living in the area around Lake Mainit at the Agusan del Norte-Surigao del Norte down to Tago river in Surigao del Norte.

The Mandaya have traditionally occupied the stretch of territory from Tandag in Surigao del Norte down to Mati in Davao Oriental and in the area of Salug river valley in the interior of Davao del Norte. Within the Davao Oriental-Davao del Norte are also to be found the Mansaka, Dibabawon and Mangguwangan populations.

Starting from that part of Davao City bordering Davao del Norte down to Davao del Sur, we have in succession the Ata, the Bagobo, the Tagakaolo-Kalagan, and the Bla-an.

As we move into Cotabato from Davao del Sur, we run into the Bla-an again, then the Ubo, then the T’boli, then the Dulangan in Sultan Kudarat, and the Teduray in the province of Maguindanaw.

On the whole, using the territorial jurisdictions of the present — prior to the creation of Sarangani, namely, the 22 provinces and 16 cities that constitute the entirety of Mindanaw and Sulu, there is incontrovertible evidence that from 1596-1898, at least, the Lumad traditional habitat encompassed 17 provinces and 14 cities. Today, however, mainly because of the massive influx of settlers from Luzon and the Visayas and the corresponding displacement of the local population, determining the exact boundaries of Lumad tribal territories has become extremely difficult, especially in areas where Lumad population is heavily intermixed with or dominated by the settler population. This is the case in most parts of the above 17 provinces and 14 cities. We shall see more of this below.

Tomorrow Part II: Lumad Concept of Ancestral Domain

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. A peace specialist, Rudy Buhay Rodil is an active Mindanao historian and peace advocate)

Part 4 of 7: A Quick Historical Overview of the Resettlement Process in Mindanaw  

(Editor’s note: This article is a slight revision of the lectures the author delivered between the years 1999 and 2000 to two major audiences — the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility in Metro Manila and the Bishops-Ulama Forum, now known as Bishops-Ulama Conference, in Davao City.)

The resettlement of Mindanaw was initiated by the American colonial government as early as l9l3. It was sustained and intensified during the Commonwealth period, and picked up momentum in the post-World War II years. Altogether, there were a number of resettlement programs.

A severe drought in Sulu and Zamboanga and grasshopper infestation in Davao in 1911-1912 adversely affected rice supply in the Moro Province and this gave General John Pershing, who was then Governor of the Moro Province, the excuse to call “for the importation of homesteaders from the overpopulated Philippine areas.” The campaign for settlers into the first agricultural colony in the Cotabato Valley started in earnest in Cebu where fondness for corn among the population is legend. The American colonial government paraded around Cebu a cornstalk, thirteen feet tall, propped up with a bamboo stick, to convince the people of the fertility and productivity of the soil in Cotabato. But in addition to being farmers, the volunteers had also to be skilled in arnis, an indigenous form of martial arts. Fifty persons responded. The government provided the initial capital and some farm tools on loan basis. They were also assured of eventually owning homesteads. Thus was born the first agricultural colony at the Cotabato Valley. Its specific aim was to produce cereals or rice and corn.

The year 1913 saw the passage by the Philippine Commission of Act No. 2254 creating agricultural colonies aimed, officially, at enhancing the rice production effort already started in the Cotabato Valley. Specific sites selected were Pikit, Silik, Ginatilan, Peidu Pulangi and Pagalungan, the very heart of Magindanaw dominion in the upper Cotabato Valley – the site of several armed skirmishes last year between the MILF and the armed forces, and Glan at the southernmost coast of the present South Cotabato province. In its supposed attempt to integrate the various sectors of the population, distinct population groups were purposely mixed in the colonial sites. In Colony No. 2, for example, composed of Manaulana, Pamalian, Silik, Tapodok and Langayen, Cebuano settlers and Maguindanaw natives lived together. Strangely, the settlers were allotted 16 hectares each while the Maguindanawon were given only eight hectares each. Altogether, six agricultural colonies were established in 1913.

Unable to further finance the opening of more colonies, the Manila government passed Act 2206 in 1919, which authorized Provincial Boards to manage colonies themselves at their expense. Lamitan in Basilan was thus opened by the Zamboanga province, Tawi-Tawi by Sulu, Marilog by Bukidnon, and Salunayan and Maganoy by Cotabato between 1919 and 1926.

No significant government resettlements were organized until 1935. Settlers nevertheless migrated either on their own or through the Inter-island Migration Division of the Bureau of Labor. As a result, aside from already existing settlement areas like that in the Cotabato Valley, or in Lamitan in Basilan and Labangan in Zamboanga, and Momungan in Lanaw, we also see several in Davao, specifically in the towns of Kapalong, Guiangga, Tagum, Lupon and Baganga; also, in Cabadbaran, Butuan and Buenavista in Agusan, and Kapatagan Valley in Lanaw.

The next big initiative was the Quirino-Recto Colonization Act or Act No. 4197 of 12 February 1935 which aimed at sending settlers into any part of the country but with special reference to Mindanaw, that is, as a solution to the Mindanaw problem, as the peace and order problem with the Moros was called. But before any implementation could be attempted, the Commonwealth government came into existence and it decided to concentrate on opening inter-provincial roads instead.

The National Land Settlement Administration (NLSA) created by Commonwealth Act No. 441 in 1939 introduced new dimensions into resettlement. Aside from the usual objectives, there was one curious item providing military trainees an opportunity to own farms upon completion of their military training. The Japanese menace was strongly felt in the Philippines at this time and this particular offer was an attempt by the government to strengthen national security. Under the NLSA, three major resettlement areas were opened in the country: Mallig Plains in Isabela, and two in Cotabato, namely, Koronadal Valley made up of Lagao, Tupi, Marbel and Polomolok and Ala (now spelled Allah) Valley consisting of Banga, Norallah and Surallah. By the time the NLSA was abolished in 1950, a total of 8,300 families had been resettled.

The Rice and Corn Production Administration (RCPA) of 1949 was meant to increase rice and corn production but was also involved in resettlement. It was responsible for opening Buluan in Cotabato, and Maramag and Wao at the Bukidnon-Lanaw border.

Before the National Resettlement and Rehabilitation Administration (NARRA) came into existence in 1954, the short-lived Land Settlement Development Administration or LASEDECO took over from NLSA and RCPA. It was able to open Tacurong, Isulan, Bagumbayan, part of Buluan, Sultan sa Barongis and Ampatuan, all in Cotabato.

NARRA administered a total of 23 resettlement areas: nine were in Mindanaw; one in Palawan; five in the Visayas; one in Mindoro; seven in mainland Luzon.

A product of the Land Reform Code, Land Authority took over from NARRA in 1963. For the first time, resettlement became a part of the land reform program. The creation of the Department of Agrarian Reform in 1971 also brought about the existence of the Bureau of Resettlement whose function was to implement the program of resettlement.

The Economic Development Corps (EDCOR), a special program of the government to counter the upsurge of the Huk rebellion — a brainchild of Ramon Magsaysay, then Secretary of National Defense under President Elpidio Quirino — must also be mentioned. This program was responsible for opening resettlement areas for surrendered or captured Huks (insurgents) in such areas as Isabela and Quezon in Luzon, and Lanao del Norte, North Cotabato and Maguindanaw in Mindanaw. Those in the latter were carved out in the heart of Magindanaw and Meranaw ancestral territories. One of them, the town of Buldon in Maguindanaw is a battleground between the forces of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) and the government armed forces.

The formal resettlement programs spawned the spontaneous influx of migrants who came on their own. It is estimated that more people came this way than through organized channels.

To be able to appreciate how fast was the process of displacement among the indigenous groups, one can do a comparative study of the population balance in Mindanaw over several census years.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. A peace specialist, Rudy Buhay Rodil is an active Mindanao historian and peace advocate.)

Next: Part V: Population Shifts in Cotabato

Last of Seven Parts: The Tri-People Approach: Citizens’ Participation in Creating A Culture of Peace

Rudy Buhay Rodil

(Editor’s note: This article is a slight revision of the lectures the author delivered between the years 1999 and 2000 to two major audiences — the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility in Metro Manila and the Bishops-Ulama Forum, now known as Bishops-Ulama Conference, in Davao City.)

The marginalization experienced by the Lumad and the Moros in the last one hundred years are not perceived as acts of fraternal love from either government or settlers or corporate institutions. They have reacted to this each in their  own way. The MNLF led the Bangsamoro in an armed struggle for national liberation. The Lumad founded the Lumad Mindanaw and articulated their own desire for genuine self-determination in their own ancestral lands. Recent events and circumstances have changed for the better. Already we have the GRP-MNLF Peace  Agreement for the Moro people and we have the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act for the Lumad. The energy of sustained implementation must be consciously maintained by the people themselves. But how?

Some Basic realities to Consider

In creating a culture of peace in Mindanaw, we need to acknowledge some very basic realities or make some fundamental assumptions.  First is that Mindanaw is inhabited by a population that may be classified into three distinct segments, namely, the Lumad, the Muslims and the settlers. Second, at this point in our history, not a single segment of the population can claim Mindanaw as theirs any longer; Mindanaw is shared territory. Third, despite their differences, the three segments of the population are capable of working out a modus vivendi that can make Mindanaw a home of peace and harmony. There are more than enough examples of this.

What Mindanaw has taught us is that we can still be Filipinos, but the basis of our unity cannot be our differing experiences with Spanish or American colonialism. It must be our mutual acceptance of one another as distinct peoples in one nation, sharing the same territory. It must be our common vision crafted from present realities.

We have also learned that the major segments of the population must take part in identifying what is common among them and working out a modus vivendi from there. This is not something that can be the subject of negotiation between the GRP and the MNLF.

Perhaps, this is one moment in history when we must grapple with realities in a manner radically different from the way the colonizers did it for us. If we must unite, we must do so as distinct entities; we must do so as equals accepting and respecting each other’s unique identity and dignity — regardless of population size, and we must do so because unity in diversity is mutually beneficial and best for all concerned. This is an important first step in the creation of a culture of peace as well as in the unification of the Filipino people in this part of the nation. Balanced with one another, ethnicity can be an instrument for sustaining a peace culture – which, in turn, is a vital component for the development, not only of the autonomous region but also of Mindanaw and the Philippines.

Peace Credo; the Organic Whole;
Implications to Development

At a gathering of peace advocates and educators at the South East Asia Rural Leadership Institute (SEARSOLIN), Xavier University, Cagayan de Oro City, on July 4-6, 1996, called  Consultation-Workshop on Peace Education in Mindanaw with the theme: Journey to Peace and Harmony, which was jointly hosted by the Mindanaw Support and Communication Center for Agrarian Reform and Rural Development (MINCARRD)  and the Office of the Presidential Adviser on the Peace Process (OPAPP), the participants produced, ratified and adopted  a Peace Credo in Filipino, now translated in 19 languages. The English translation here is mine. It is very appropriate to recall it here.

Kalinaw Mindanaw!!!

Lumad, Muslim, Kristiyano

Magkaiba, Magkaisa

Isang Diyos

Isang Lupain

Isang Adhikain

Kalinaw Mindanaw!

[English Translation]

Peace Mindanaw!!!

Lumad, Muslim, Christian

They are different, they can be one
One God

One land

One dream

Peace Mindanaw!!!

A Maguindanawon introduced the music. To a great extent the consciousness that was created in that forum has found a home in the heart of all peace advocates associated with Kalinaw Mindanaw.

What it advocates is that at the level of the people, we should encourage the tri-people approach in peace advocacy. This means creating a stream of unifying ideal among the Lumad, the Muslims and the migrants whose basic interests may sometimes be conflicting. It is molding a common agenda and a common vision; it is creating unity out of diversity. It is seeing ourselves as integral parts of an organic whole.

Following the idea of an organic whole, the same people will do well to see themselves as one with nature and the physical environment in which they live. Then from there, find the inter links, or the unifying thread among the various forces of nature. With a closer look, one can easily see the interactive roles of the various resources or forces of development in Mindanaw in the overall forward movement of the region and the country.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. A peace specialist, Rudy Buhay Rodil is an active Mindanao historian and peace advocate.)

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 30 April) – Five of the six human rights activists who were ordered arrested last April 21 by the Regional Trial Court-Branch 12 in Davao City posted bail on Thursday.

They are facing charges of child abuse in relation to the presence of Lumad evacuees inside the Haran Evacuation Center of the United Church of Christ in the Philippines in Davao City.

In an order dated April 29, Presiding Judge Dante A. Baguio ordered the authorities to desist from arresting Bishop Hamuel Tequis, Rev. Daniel Palicte, Ephraim Malazarte, Lindy Trenilla, and Grace Avila after the five accused filed a cash bond worth P300,000 or at P60,000 each.

Jong Monzon, Secretary-General of PASAKA Confederation of Lumad Organizations in South Mindanao Region, one of the six accused “administrators and personalities” of Haran, did not post bail.

The judge set the arraignment and pre-trial of the six accused at 8:30 a.m. of July 16, 2021.

In a statement, Police Regional Office Davao director BGen. Filmore B. Escobal said the arrest warrant was issued for violation of Republic Act 7610, also known as Special Protection of Children against Child Abuse, Exploitation and Discrimination Act or Anti-Child Abuse Law.

He said the accused were responsible for the death of an infant inside the evacuation center during the pandemic and the failure to report the condition of children suffering illnesses and diseases to the City Health Office.

“Our ultimate aim is to end the exploitation of IPs (indigenous peoples) by fake revolutionaries, and UCCP Haran Administrators could be of help in achieving it. If the administrators of Haran could just use their voice to discourage IPs from supporting fake revolutionaries, they could just let them go back to their community, the people there would have been living in a suitable environment now,” he said.

He said several attempts have been made since 2015 to “rescue” the Lumads taking refuge at the evacuation center due to the complaints from their leaders and families that their relatives were allegedly brought to Haran from their homes.

“There were allegations that personalities behind UCCP Haran are exploiting the IPs and utilizing them for activities that are against the government. While some IP minors are being engaged as NPAs (New People’s Army),” he said.

He said families housed inside the evacuation center were going through “a tough situation, with limited food and water and deplorable sanitation.”

As of 1:45 p.m. Friday, Jay Apiag, Karapatan Southern Mindanao Region secretary-general, has yet to comment on the incident.

In a statement Friday, the Promotion of Church People’s Response called the charges against the accused another example of the “weaponization of the law under the Duterte administration.”

“The Promotion of Church People’s Response stands in solidarity with the UCCP and the affected Lumad to call for peace-building and healthy resolution of any identified weaknesses in the administration of the UCCP-HARAN ministry with displaced Lumad. We stand firmly on the imperatives of Christian faith that guide the mission and ministries of Bishop Hamuel Tequis and other leaders of the UCCP.

“Furthermore, we sound the alarm on these latest efforts to label as ‘terrorism’ what is clearly Church ministry; this is another manifestation of the clear and present dangers for increased repression and oppression under the Anti-Terrorism Act of 2020 and other similar laws,” the statement added. (Antonio L. Colina IV/MindaNews)

CAGAYAN DE ORO (MindaNews / 17 June) – Bishop Raul Dael of the Diocese of Tandag in Surigao del Sur will join a provincial investigation team on Friday to look into the June 15 killing of three Lumad farmers, including a 12-year old girl in what the military claimed was an encounter with the New People’s Army (NPA) but what human rights groups decried as a massacre.

Fr. Raymond Montero Ambray, consultant of the Social Action Center of the Diocese of Tandag told MindaNews that Bishop Dael and he will join a provincial probe team on Friday, June 18, to investigate the killing in Sitio New Decoy, Barangay Diatagon in Lianga. Ambray said the probe team was initiated by the provincial government.

In a statement, the Sabokahan IP women, a grassroots women organization based in Davao, said the three fatalities were Lumad farmers who were out harvesting abaca when they were allegedly “brutally killed and raped” by the soldiers, an allegation that Brig. Gen. Allan Hambala, commander of the Army’s 401^st Infantry Brigade, denied.

Hambala claimed that thick jungle foliage in Sitio New Decoy, Barangay Diatagon in Lianga prevented Army soldiers from seeing a 12-year old girl among the NPA during the encounter.

He told MindaNews in a telephone interview that the soldiers saw an armed man firing a gun at them, prompting the 12-man Special Forces team to retaliate.

“Once the firing started, it was all go. The terrain was covered with thick jungle foliage,” he said, adding the encounter at a jungle trail beside an old logging road lasted for ten minutes.

It was while searching the area after the shootout when the soldiers found the dead minor, he said.

Hambala said the bodies were brought down to Diatagon, Lianga town where they were autopsied by a PNP SOCO team.

The military identified the victims as Lenie Perez Rivas, 38 years old; and Willy Salinas Rodriguez, 20 years old, both members of the Manobo tribe.

Hambala withheld the name of the slain minor. But Sabokahan IP women and Karapatan named the 12-year-old as a student of the Lumad school Tribal Filipino Program of Surigao del Sur (TRIFPSS).

Harvesting abaca

They said the elder Rivas and Rodriguez were members of the grassroots organization Malahutayong Pakigbisog alang sa Sumusunod (MAPASU).

The Sabokahan IP women alleged that the three Lumads were  farmers who were harvesting abaca.

In a statement, the Save Our Schools (SOS) said the three victims were cousins. It said Lenie Rivas was 21 and Rodriguez was their cousin.  The elder Rivas and the 12-year old were sisters.

The SOS said the victims’ aunt was informed by witnesses that the victims, “with three other young farmers, took a break from harvesting or stripping abaca, went down to the poblacion intending to buy rice when they came across the military who without warning opened fire on them, killing the three while the other three ran for their safety.”

It said the families of the victims learned about the incident at around 10 p.m. “after soldiers presented to them the lifeless body of Angel, wrapped in plastic and tape. Soldiers said they were pursuing a New People’s Army fighter and a gunfight ensued.”  The bodies of the elder Rivas and Rodriguez were allegedly found in a separate location, the SOS said.

Hambala welcomed the probe team, particularly the presence of the Bishop of Tandag.  “We welcome the fact finding mission so we can clear our name against these allegations,” he said.

He insisted that the June 15 encounter was “legitimate” and that the soldiers fought with members of the NPA, the two older fatalities allegedly belonging to the North Eastern Mindanao Regional Committee.

Hambala said the soldiers found an AK-47 rifle, two caliber .45 pistols, backpacks, ammunition and two anti-personnel mines with detonating cord and electrical wire attached to a switch around the three dead bodies.

Prior to the June 15 encounter, Hambala said the Special Forces team figured in another encounter with 20 NPA rebels in Sitio Tibog, Mabuhay, Prosperidad, Agusan del Sur on June 14.

Hambala said the soldiers captured a 15-year-old Manobo minor who told them of the presence of another rebel group in nearby Sitio New Decoy.  (Froilan Gallardo / MindaNews)

I. 2015

The forest emerald faded
and red the valley turned
as embers devoured the commune

The dawn cracked with bullets
on the heads of two datus
and a blade slashed Emok’s neck

Wails echoed across Andap
walls shake
this village school

Forest leaves snapped off
and embrace the blood-soaked soil
Blood red the sun

The busaw howls
the tribe departs
a season of blood

II. 2021

A year of pandemia
but other things can kill

the Manobo girl dreams
of dances and harvests in their fields

but as abaca leaves were gathered
she and her family were collected

by bullets laced
with words from the busaw

smash their inner bodies
rape their lands for the coffers

the nightmare sets in again
as their blood cries for Magbabaya

(Tyrone Velez is a freelance journalist and writer)

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 07 August) — The independent film festival Cinemalaya stages its 17th season with its second online festival from August 6 to September 5, featuring two award-winning Mindanawon films, a documentary on Marawi evacuees and a full-length film shot in the country’s highest peak Mount Apo.

A House in Pieces (documentary)

Directed by Jean Claire Dy and Manuel Domes
Screening Dates: August 6, 8 and 10.

Countless news coverage and documentaries on the Marawi crisis often tell the story of the military’s five month battle against a band of ISIS inspired fighters, and sometimes leave the Marawi citizens, the Meranaws, at the fringes, portrayed as hapless evacuees or angry survivors.

A House in Pieces delves deeper on the Meranaws and humanizes the crisis.  The Meranaws interviewed in this documentary, a young couple, a businesswoman, and even an ISIS recruit who lost his son in the battle, show their pain of losing their homes, their memories and the uncertainty of their future.  The title of this documentary depicts the state of Marawi as told by its citizens.

Weaving this documentary entailed time and risks for its directors Jean Claire Dy and Manuel Domes from Germany.  But both directors share a common purpose of focusing on narratives to draw out peoples’ tales on conflict and peace.    These tales will make viewers see Marawi as broken pieces that may take years or decades to be put together.

A House in Pieces was shown in international film festivals including the DMZ International Documentary Film Festival which awarded a grant for the film, and at the Kasseler Dokfest in Germany where it garnered the Golden Hercules Award.  The film has been screened on national online film platforms in the past two years.

The Highest Peak
Directed by Arbi Barbarona
Screening Dates August 7 to 9

Mount Apo, the country’s highest peak, has been featured in videos, photos and blogs as a trekking spot. But it is only in late 2019 that it became the setting of a full-length film.

A film featuring the highest peak of course involves trekking, and captivating shots of the mountain ranges covered in a sea of clouds, surrounded by mists and forests.

But Barbarona who copped best director awards from FAMAS and Urian in 2018, injects social messages in his films. Mount Apo is a fragile haven for the Lumad inhabitants who have become porters just to survive decades of neglect and exploitation from mining and geothermal companies.   Such problems rise in the dialogue from the characters, a Manila-based executive seeking a new purpose in life after a personal loss, who befriends his young Lumad porter who helped him in this journey.

The film was originally set for release at Sinag Maynila 2020 but was postponed due to the pandemic.  It was shown at the Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino in October 2020 which garnered Best Supporting Actor award for Henyo Ehem and Best Sound Design for Barbarona.

Cinemalaya also features 13 short films for competition in its Balanghai awards.  Other sections of Cinemalaya include Vision of Asia which showcases award winning Asian movies;  a section of indie full lengths and short films, documentaries and premiers of award winning indie films; a retrospective on Danny Zialcita films and a retrospect on past Cinemalaya winning films.

Viewers will have to go to the website KTX https://www.ktx.ph/ featured section on Cinemalaya to choose their films, priced between Php 150 to Php 250 per title, which provides viewers a 48-hour pass to watch the films online. (Tyrone Velez / MindaNews)

MALAYBALAY CITY (MindaNews / 02 September) – Back in 2005, the nongovernment organization I used to work with assisted the Bukidnon-Daraghuyan tribe in Malaybalay City in the processing of their application for a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT). As it went along, I realized that applying for a CADT is a tedious, costly process, which gave me the impression that it has become another form of oppression for Lumads (indigenous peoples of Mindanao) who don’t have the resources for it.

I already lost count of the number of community meetings, consultations with neighboring tribal communities, government agencies and various stakeholders we held to obtain consensus and resolve and/or preempt conflicts related to the claim. This is aside from tracing the genealogies of the different clans comprising the tribe, writing their history as narrated by the elders, gathering proof of “since time immemorial” possession of the land, documenting cultural practices, among others.

Besides, the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) required “validation sessions” with the community on the data and information. Nothing wrong with that except that the NCIP required 800 pesos per day in honorarium for each of their employee who attended those sessions. Upon learning this, I exclaimed to my officemates in disgust, “Sa ato pa, kung walay kwarta ang tribu, wala gyuy mahitabo sa ilang claim (So, if the tribe has no money, nothing will happen to their claim)?”

NCIP-Bukidnon made it clear to us that as per policy each provincial office could only process one CADT application per year owing to “budgetary limits.” But what incensed me is that they seemed unperturbed over exacting a pound of flesh from an impoverished community.

Fortunately for the claimant tribe, some foreign donors granted funds for the CADT application. Those funds defrayed the activities mentioned above as well as, the boundary survey (including honoraria for the NCIP surveyors from Manila, and materials and labor for the concrete boundary markers around the roughly 4,500-hectare ancestral domain), and printing of documents.

Now, here comes the audit report of the Commission on Audit (COA) flagging the NCIP regional office in Caraga for spending P1,064,219.06 for a workshop with the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict.

COA said the meals and accommodations for the workshop, held at Amontay Beach Resort in Nasipit, Agusan del Norte in November 2020, “were not duly supported with sufficient and complete documentations… casting doubts on the propriety and regularity of the transaction… Moreover, the procurement was not done through a competitive public bidding.”

“Further scrutiny of the attendance sheet disclosed that there are alterations made with the date, and there are names listed that did not bear signatures of the participants,” COA said.

“The number of accommodations should have been equal to the number of participants indicated per meal or lower but not higher,” the agency added.

Last year, COA also asked the NCIP to justify its expenses amounting to P4.815 million in 2019 which state auditors said were mostly spent in activities conducted in high-end hotels and restaurants, according to an abs-cbn.com report published on Nov. 4, 2020.

“In the 2019 audit on the NCIP, state auditors noted that P3,835,897.50 were spent in 2018, and P979,695.93 in 2019 for meals and accommodations for various programs and activities of the agency in Region 10,” the report said. (Note: Region 10 includes Bukidnon.)

“It was observed that the said activities were mostly conducted at high-end hotels and restaurants where the food and accommodation was relatively high compared to other alternative venues,” the COA said.

Since the NCIP would scrimp when it comes to financing CADT claims, maybe we should ask if holding activities in those high-end venues had contributed more to uplifting the conditions of Lumads.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. H. Marcos C. Mordeno can be reached at hmcmordeno@gmail.com.)

MALAYBALAY CITY (MindaNews / 4 October) – Some ancestral domain claims of Lumad in Bukidnon have been granted recognition by the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP). Among them are the Talaandig inhabiting areas within or adjacent to Mt. Kalatungan in Talakag town and the Bukidnon in Baleteon, Brgy. Dalwangan, Malaybalay City, both in Bukidnon province.

Yet, the issuance of Certificates of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT) has not meant security for the Lumad. The Talaandig in Talakag complained about the encroachment of big business interests and illegal logging in their area. They said a businessman is using tourism as cover for what they believe is his real agenda – treasure hunting. The same businessman, they alleged, has been harassing them with the complicity of some military and police personnel. If confronted, he would just say “magkita lang tas korte” (see you in court).

The Lumad added that the businessman blocked the right of way of owners of lands adjacent to the CADT area apparently to pressure them into selling their estates to him.

Moreover, many outsiders have laid claim to lands inside the domain using tax declarations. The Talaandig expressed fears the declarations might be converted into Torrens titles, a scenario that could result in a lengthy legal battle. They said the most they can do for now is ask the local government to refuse tax payments using these instruments and render the occupancies as illegal.

The Bukidnon tribe in Baleteon faces a similar problem. In 2014, or six years after the tribe’s claim was approved, a group of outsiders arrived and settled in the area without the Lumad’s consent. Some of these persons reportedly sold part of the area to another individual.

The intruders have since refused to leave the area, arguing they would only do so if the tribe can show them the original copy of their CADT. This sounds like a subtle accusation that the Lumad are lying about the status of their claim. But since they don’t want the conflict to worsen the Lumad opted to just wait for the document, which the NCIP is yet to release 13 years after the approval of the application.

Leaders of the tribe are also worried that the cases filed in 2005 against them by the Department of Agriculture (DA) Regional Office in relation to their occupancy of the area are yet to be dismissed. The tribe members were accused of squatting, leading to the demolition of their dwellings after the Regional Trial Court in Malaybalay granted DA’s petition to eject the claimants. The DA claimed the Baleteon domain as part of the agency-run Malaybalay Stock Farm.

DA Region 10 had opposed the CADT application of the Lumad based on the following arguments: 1) The claimants received 253.4551 hectares from President Ramon Magsaysay in 1954 through Proclamation 73, but that they sold their lands; 2) It was only in 1994 that the claimants entered the area, and that there is no proof that they had claimed or occupied it prior to that year; 3) Proclamation 637 creating the Malaybalay Stock Farm only covered 785.2675 hectares after it excluded the 253.4551 hectares given to the claimants through Proclamation 73; 4) The Malaybalay Stock Farm is reserved for public welfare and service.

But the NCIP noted that the claimants’ time immemorial occupation of the area is supported by, among others, tax declarations dating as far back as 1916, 1939 and 1949, their intimate relationship to the land as can be gleaned from the written accounts of their customs and traditions, and their birth certificates and marriage certificates. NCIP also cited the 1887 and 1918 maps in Dr. Madronio Lao’s book which mentions Dalwangan as one of the oldest settlements in Bukidnon, bolstering the fact that there were already indigenous inhabitants then.

The Commission added that the fact that the claimants were listed as among the beneficiaries of Proclamation 73 only proves that they were already in the area as early as 1954, negating DA’s claim that they only entered in 1994.

“The claimants and their ancestors may have been displaced from their ancestral domain as a consequence of this government program/project, but it does not and cannot disqualify them from acquiring formal recognition of their right over their ancestral domain. They did not leave their domain but were forced to leave therefrom. IPRA expressly includes within its ambit the ICCs/IPs who have been displaced from their domain as in the case at bar…” NCIP Region 10 Director Datu Tommie Labaon said in his executive report to the NCIP En Banc dated October 7, 2008, recommending for the approval of the Baleteon ancestral domain claim.

One need not be a lawyer to understand that with the approval of the CADT the cases  against the Lumad in Baleteon no longer have a legal basis.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. H. Marcos C. Mordeno can be reached at hmcmordeno@gmail.com)

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 01 December) – Only 51,500 individuals in the city were vaccinated against COVID-19 during the first two days of the three-day national vaccination drive that started Monday, way below the local government’s daily target of 49,104 or a total of 147,313 for the entire duration, the Davao City COVID-19 Task Force said.

Dr. Michelle Schlosser told Davao City Disaster Radio (DCDR 87.5) Wednesday that the city has done its part in preparing for the massive vaccination drive from logistics, vaccination sites, and human resources.

But she added that there remain people who are hesitant to receive the vaccines due to misinformation.

“We have people helping each other out, including our councilors to Vice Mayor’s office. It boils down to the cooperation of the people. There is vaccination hesitancy. The people should be responsible enough to have themselves vaccinated. We encourage them to broaden their understanding about vaccination, so that we can reach our target of herd immunity,” she said.

The city aims to vaccinate 1.2 million individuals or 70 percent of the local population.

Schlosser said efforts have been undertaken to combat misinformation, particularly in geographically isolated and disadvantaged areas like the far-flung Marilog and Paquibato Districts where health authorities are penetrating to spread word on vaccination.

“We are reaching out to our Lumad brothers and sisters who are not yet open about getting vaccinated. We’ve conducted a series of dialogues with tribe leaders, and we’re seeing some improvements now,” she said.

She said the only way to change the behavior of the people is to inform and educate them.

As of November 19, the city government reported a total of 1,010,811 individuals jabbed with the first dose and 908,101 who are fully vaccinated.

On November 30, the Department of Health-Davao reported 15 new COVID-19 infections in the city, bringing the total cases to 53,778 with 156 active, 51,840 recoveries, and 1,782 deaths. (Antonio L. Colina IV/MindaNews)