Tag Archives: mindanao
Roosting Behavior and Roost Site Characterization of Pteropus Vampyrus in Malagos Watershed, Davao City
Roosting behaviors and roosting preference of flying foxes, Pteropus Vampyrus, were investigated in the Davao City Water District Malagos Watershed. As many as 2,604 flying foxes were counted roosting on two Terminalia copelandii (Lanipaw) trees. Behavioral units were identified then categorized in an ethogram as general maintenance behavior and social behavior. Activities of bats were sampled using the Instantaneous Sampling Method. Sleeping was the most dominant occurring behavior (80.42% on the roost. Sleeping positions by flying foxes were probably given by environmental conditions like weather, temperature and sunflecks. Other general maintenance behaviors were grooming (9.88%), locomotion (1.13%) searching (0.29%), stretching (0.33%), urinating (0.40%), defecating (0.43%), flying (2.64%), and fanning (2.25%). Social behaviors showed percent occurrences as: aggression (1.22%), courting (0.87%), and copulating (0.14%). Their roost site is 2 km from human habitation in Malagos. Two T. copelandii trees were found to be the primary roost trees. Endospermum peltatum (gubas) was also used by the flying foxes although less commonly. Both tree species have low canopy cover, and horizontal branching pattern and fissured barks. Flying foxes were not on served roosting on other big trees with high canopy cover and ascending branching patterns.
Transparency in the Mineral Revenue-Sharing Arrangement; Platform for Sustaining Peace and Security in Mindanao
Three Modes of Government for Mindanao, 1900-1920
The Americans have come here [Mindanao] to teach and convince these people that all men are born free and equal and that there is no such thing as inherited caste or privilege. The working out of this doctrine and the enforcement of it means the upsetting of the whole system of tribal and patriarchal government among the Moros.
– 1902 report of General W. Davis, Commander of the Department of Mindanao and Sulu (quoted in Go and Foster 2005, 136)
During the early phase of the nearly fifty years of American experiment in colonial state building and administration in the Philippines, governance was exercised not through a single governing apparatus but three. These three apparatuses were designed to address three ethnogeographical or geoethnological segments of the general Philippine population:
1. The Philippine Commission. Representing the United States (US), the Commission worked with the all-Filipino Philippine Assembly elected in 1907, and administered all the regular provinces in the Christianized regions of the Philippines.
2. The Moro Province. This was formed in 1903 to embrace areas in Mindanao and Sulu with predominantly Muslim and pagan populations. The Moro Province was governed by the US Army with an autonomous authority.
3. The Special Government Provinces. These were formed by special legislation in 1905 to administer non-Christian tribes people and their territories, outside the supervision and reach of Filipino nationalists in the Philippine Assembly.
Of these three, the first was the central apparatus that became the present-day bicameral congress coequal with the executive branch of the Philippine government; the second evolved into the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM); the third included the old Mountain Province that inspired the movement for an autonomous Cordillera region. Kramer (2005) portrayed the Philippines as a “bi-furcated” state because he accepted the Spanish distinction between the Christian majority and the non-Christian minority. Abinales also recognized “two regimes,” one for the regular provinces and another for the special provinces (Go and Foster 2005, 149). I choose a tripartite division for Mindanao governance, at least from 1903 to 1913, because there were in fact three systems operating there during this period. These three were (1) the Moro Province; (2) the regular provinces of Misamis and Surigao; and (3) the special provinces of Agusan and Bukidnon. After 1913, Mindanao had a bifurcate regime—one for the regular provinces of Misamis and Surigao and the other, the Department of Mindanao and Sulu (the successor to Moro Province), for seven special provinces—all under the supervision of the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes. The outstanding and contested rights of non-Christian peoples and their ancestral domains continue to be the central concern of the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act (IPRA 1997) and of the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP).
The burden of this paper is to reconstruct and explain why there were three governance systems for Mindanao; how they differed in their mission, operation, and transformation; how the shifting balance of military and civilian control shaped their evolution; and how all these questions were correlated with the restructuring of the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes, from the early “separatist” to the later “integrationist” agency. The key argument is that American colonial governance policies, practices, and structures were strategic executive responses to political mandates emanating from Washington, from Republican and Democratic leadership that differed in their fundamental stance towards the future independence of the Philippines.
Prelude to statebuilding
In their colonial statebuilding decisions, American colonial agents were guided by interimperial imperatives, anthropological theories, and racial ideologies. Political discourse in the Philippines between competing colonizers, then as now, engaged in unabashed racial stereotyping—negative against defeated Latins and positive for ascendant Anglo-Saxons. Exemplifying this stereotyping trend, the Englishman George Boxall wrote that “Anglo-Saxons ruled in the name of reason, fairness, and the public good; Latins ruled through passion, intolerance, and private gain” (Kramer 2005, 72). An undercurrent of “ethnological epistemology” ran through the debates on whether Filipinos were ready for independence. Using a racial paradigm, Worcester argued that the issue of Philippine independence was not a question of politics but “of ethnology.” There was also a counter current of assertive Filipino nationalism with mixed opportunist-collaborationist motives. Between these two forces of imperialism and nationalism, there intervened a robust American capitalism that wanted to exploit Philippine tropical resources for the global market. These three impulses were joined to create powerful crosscurrents in the three geoethnological divisions of the Philippines. Here colonizers and colonized fought over the outcome of military, political, economic, religious, and administrative issues in Mindanao in the first quarter of the twentieth century.
The US acquired the Philippines as a colony first through diplomacy at the 1898 Treaty of Paris and then through physical conquest. In the ensuing Philippine-American War, the US had two bloody encounters, earlier against the Christianized majority and later against the Muslim minority (Tan 2002). Some estimates put native casualties in these two wars at 13 percent of the Philippine population (Boudreau 2005, 262). Military rule was the dominant reality in the first few years of American “benevolent assimilation.” Between 1898 and 1902, the US War Department governed the newly acquired Philippine territory through a succession of five Military Governors. While military rule was in force, the US Congress also set in motion the beginnings of civilian rule. Things had sufficiently settled down that the office of the Military Governor was abolished on 4 July 1902, allowing Howard Taft to step in as the first Civil Governor that year; this title was changed to Governor General only in 1905.
American colonial statebuilders studied several models for governing native peoples. Among these models were: (1) American experience gained from the administration of Indian tribes in the American West: (2) Dutch and British methods of indirect rule over Malayo-Muslims in Indonesia, Malaya, and Borneo; (3) Spanish colonial administration and missionary work with Christian and non-
Christians peoples, and (4) the American doctrine of individualism and equality that in theory does not recognize the inherited status and privileges of royalty and nobility before the law.
The First or Schurman Commission (1899) laid the broad parameters of nation-building under civilian rule; the Second or Taft Commission (1900) carried out actual colonial governance on the basis of that blueprint. Statebuilding meant instituting basic structures to meet imperatives of formal political control—a police force to maintain order, administrative agencies to implement policies, personnel to collect revenue, a court system to administer justice, etc. Governance demanded actual implementation of organic acts through administrative departments and bureaus of government at the national and local levels (Go and Foster 2005, 10). The beginnings of civil government coincided with early elections at the municipal and provincial levels. The succeeding national election was limited to the regular, pacified provinces; it resulted in the 1907 Philippine Assembly that served as a legislative lower house to the American Commission functioning as the Senate. Legislative authority was delegated to this all-Filipino lower house while central policymaking and executive authority remained with senior American leadership in the Commission. An emerging Filipino civil service class was trained to staff the various governmental departments and bureaus, replacing Americans civil servants whose numbers declined through attrition or retirement. The process of election, representation, legislation, and administration in the “special provinces” and the Moro Province was to follow a different trajectory.
Why the Moro Province and the Special Provinces were established parallel to the regular provinces was a strategic response of two key policy guidelines coming from Washington. The first, from President William McKinley, instructed the Taft Commission that in dealing with uncivilized tribes the Commission should adopt the same course followed by Congress in permitting the tribes of our North American Indians to maintain their tribal organization and government; he counseled the Commissioners “to exercise due respect for all the ideals, customs, and institutions of the tribes which compose the population” (Sullivan 1991, 64; my emphasis). The second, from President Theodore Roosevelt, circumscribed the powers of the Philippine Assembly, allowing it to share with the Philippine Commission “legislative power” for all of the Philippines, except those areas “inhabited by Moros or other non-Christian tribes” (Sullivan 1991, 149-150; my emphasis).
Dean C. Worcester responded to these two directives by creating in 1901 the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes under the Department of Interior he headed. The Bureau’s mission was to systematically investigate the non-Christian peoples of the Philippines in order to ascertain the name of each tribe, the limit of its territory, the nature of its social organization, and the character of its language, beliefs, manners, and customs. All this was to be pursued “with special view to determining the most practicable means for bringing about their advancement in civilization and material prosperity” (Gowing 1977, 67). Part of the mission was to investigate and report upon the practical operation of legislation and statutes affecting the non-Christian peoples. Absent from the Bureau’s agenda was the goal of integrating them with the rest of the Filipino nation. Integration only became the main agenda in the successor bureau that was established by the Jones Law after 1916. It was Worcester who was instrumental in drafting the Special Provincial Government Act of 1905 and the companion Government Township Act. Through these statutes Worcester gave himself, as Secretary of Interior, “direct executive control over the government of the wild people of the Islands excepting the Moro Province” and the control over settlements in tribal areas (Sullivan 1991, 149).
Anthropologist David Barrows, the Bureau’s first director, made a special trip to the US to examine possible lessons gained from governing American Indian tribes and concluded they had little positive application to the Philippine situation. Although the Bureau would undergo several reorganizations, its primary objective remained constant, namely, to study the tribes people in support of legislation that would protect them and their resources from the greed of the majority lowlanders. Established first in 1901, the Bureau was renamed in 1903 the “Ethnological Survey for the Philippine Islands.” It was this agency that helped equip the Philippine participation at the St. Louis Centennial Exposition, where a spectrum of Filipino primitivism and progress was put on display. In 1905, the Survey was again redesignated as a “Division of Ethnology” within the Bureau of Education. In 1906, it was returned to the Bureau of Science and assumed its earlier designation as the Division of Ethnology. Here it continued its mission as a research agency, eventually designated as a Division of Ethnology in the Philippine National Museum. But the administrative and quasipolitical function of the .first Bureau, as distinct from its research function, remained in force until 1913 under Worcester’s personal control. It was through this Bureau that he succeeded in having the Philippine Commission create in 1907 the special province Agusan and the subprovince of Bukidnon under the administration of the Bureau. This arrangement remained unchanged until 1914 when they were designated provinces under the temporary Department of Mindanao and Sulu.
Worcester was the driving force behind the first Bureau until his departure in 1913.
During his long tenure as Secretary of Interior, the bureau remained his favorite agency and he used it to ensure that tribespeople and their territories did not fall under the administration of Filipino nationalists in the Philippines Assembly. He did not concede that Filipinos constituted a nation capable of governing itself; that Filipinos were just a series of tribes still needing to be civilized in the arts of self-rule. He constantly argued on ethnological grounds that the lowland Filipinos were distinct from the tribes people, and that the former had no rights on the territories and resources of the latter. “If there were serpents in this Eden [tribal areas of Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao], they were ‘Tagalogs’ or other lowlanders whose influence had to be extirpated” (Sullivan 1991, 149). He was, in short, explicitly and aggressively a separatist.
Anthropological thinking and ethnological theories informed the policies of the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes. Worcester’s idea of “civilizing” backwards tribes people was based on the prevailing assumption that Anglo-Saxons represented the highest level of civilization to which natives can aspire to over time. The Americans, as branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, have proven their superiority in war, industry, trade, and the science of government at home and overseas. The ruling evolutionary paradigm saw society as evolving along a gradient from savagery, through barbarism, to civilization. It was this architectonic paradigm of evolutionary succession that underpinned Worcester’s prototypes of “Negritos,” “Malays,” and “Indonesians” as composing the “Racial Hierarchy in the Philippines” (Sullivan 1991, 90-91). It was the same racial assumption that explains hyphenation in the term “semi-civilized” applied to Moros and Igorots in colonial reports. Hyphenation implied placement in a halfway stage between Savagery and Civilization (Kramer 2006, 123). Some natives were judged as either capable or incapable of evolving up this
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gradient. To become “civilized” requires tutorship in the science of self-government and the Americans were exceptionally endowed to introduce this into colonial administration.
Under the Jones Law of 1916, a “second” Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes came into force. Gowing (1977, 268) explicitly says that “this bureau is not to be confused with the first bureau of the same name established in 1901.” The earlier agency, under Worcester’s strong paternalistic control, had an explicit “separatist” agenda. The second Bureau had an explicit “integrationist” agenda—to facilitate the integration of all the inhabitants of the Philippines into a single Filipino nation. This divergence in purpose between the earlier and the later Bureau is, to my knowledge, a historical point that has not been sufficiently appreciated. The explicit mission of the later Bureau was adopted, almost word for word, and enshrined in the program of the Commission on National Integration (CNI), in effect making the Commission a reincarnation of the second Bureau. In Gowing (1977, 268), this mission was to
foster by all adequate means and in a systematic, rapid, and complete manner the moral, material, economic, social, and political development of the regions inhabited by non-Christian Filipinos, always having in view the action of rendering permanent the mutual intelligence between and complete fusion of all the Christian and non-Christian elements populating the Provinces of the Archipelago.
Imperialism Models for the Moro Province
The United States, in the latter half of the nineteenth century, was aware that it needed lessons in how to govern an overseas colony. Analysts consulted one important reference volume, Colonial administration, 1800-1900: Methods of government and development adopted by the principal colonizing nations in their control of tropical and other colonies and dependencies (US Treasury Department 1901). Policymakers expressed dissatisfaction with the previous method of Spanish imperialism and began to turn explicitly to other European models. The immediate need was for governing the Moros, perceived to be very similar to the Malayo-Muslims of Indonesia, Malaya, and Borneo who were governed through indirect rule. Hence the question uppermost in the minds of the military and colonial architects of the Moro Province was whether the province could also be governed through indirect rule or not. In the end, the military leadership opted for direct rule, via a hybrid politico-military apparatus.
British rule in Malaya was direct in legally British settlements, such as Singapore, but indirect in the Federated and Unfederated Malay States. Indirect rule in these latter states recognized the sovereignty of Malay rulers, allowing Malay identity, religion, culture, and language to flourish. Here the Malay rulers were firmly tutored to look up to
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the guidance of the resident British District Officer, whose “advice must be sought and acted upon” (Amoroso 2005, 119). The British recognized the distinction between chiefs and rulers, a distinction equivalent to the Moro distinction between datus and sultans. British colonial policy favored the sultans against the datus because this strengthened centralized control of Malay society without threatening overall British hegemony.
With this in mind, Jacob Schurman, head of the First Philippine Commission, visited Sandakan to observe British administration of North Borneo. General Leonard Wood and George Langhorne, first Governor and first Secretary of Moro Province respectively, toured Malay states in Malaya and Borneo. While Langhorne admired aspects of the British system, particularly the strategic cultivation of Malay royal pageantry, Wood was quite dismissive of them. A sense of “exceptionalism” has been a continuing theme in the history of American imperialism. General Wood perceived the British methods of administering colonies to “cut against the democratic grain.” He once wrote to a British friend, as quoted in Amoroso (2005, 139):
You are quite content to maintain rajahs and sultans and other species of royalty, but we [Americans], with our plain ideas of doing things, find these gentlemen outside of our scheme of government, and so have to start at this kind of proposition a little differently.
Writing in the same vein to a certain Alleyne Ireland, a respected authority on imperial systems, Wood stated the main difference between British and American philosophy of colonial governance (Thompson 1975, 43):
It has been a pretty tough proposition and it is hard, as I have often said to you, for a Britisher to appreciate the difficulties under which we Americans take up colonial work, inasmuch as we are precluded—as we think, very fortunately—by the nature of our institutions from utilizing the local sovereigns, reigning authorities, etc., in the manner and to the extent that you are able to do. This is one of the great points of difference. The other is that we always have to figure on eventually making the native an actual bona fide participant in the government.
So it is not surprising that in the design for the Moro Province, the Americans followed a pattern somewhat opposite to that of the British. Initially, Americans recognized the prerogatives of the Sultan of Sulu while the Bates Agreement was in force. In 1904, General Wood unilaterally abrogated the agreement; and in the 1916 Carpenter Agreement, the sultanate was finally terminated as a political institution. Americans rejected the idea of a protectorate for Sulu while the British encouraged it in the Malay states. Americans recognized the value of datus as potential “ward chiefs” representing American sovereignty rather than as traditional leaders representing the dignity of their people. Unlike the British who nurtured Malay identity through the use of the Malay language while restricting the learning of English, Americans enforced an English language policy in a general educational system applied to the emerging Filipino nation as a whole. In this educational system, unfortunately, Moro identity remained that of “minorities” because the underlying sociological framework of Christian/non-Christian, or majority/minority, was never sufficiently overhauled in political education and in social discourse.
The Exceptionalism of Misamis and Surigao
The second governance apparatus in Mindanao parallel to Moro Province was maintained in the regular provinces of Misamis and Surigao in northeastern Mindanao. The genesis and nature of this second system need deeper analysis and appreciation. Prior to 1903, the American military had always linked “Mindanao and Jolo” together in controlling southern Philippine affairs. In 1899, the US Army created the “Military District of Mindanao and Jolo,” which was renamed the “Military Department of Mindanao and Jolo” in 1900. In this second or departmental scheme, four “units” were identified—the first and second units were in mainland Mindanao, the third unit in Sulu Archipelago, and the fourth unit in Palawan. The “two units” for mainland Mindanao now appears to be the basis for the American decision to separate the first unit (Misamis and Surigao) from the second unit, the Moro Province (Gowing 1977, 40);
On May 15, 1901, the northern and eastern regions of Mindanao were separated from the jurisdiction of the [military] Department of Mindanao and Jolo and given civil governments as the Provinces of Misamis and Surigao. The Moros and the “wild people” living elsewhere on the island were not considered prepared for civil rule. They continued to be governed by military authorities. The status of regular provinces granted to Misamis and Surigao in 1901, however, was far from secure. Military administrators were under pressure from some American business interests to convert the whole of Mindanao into a new American frontier, a “White Mindanao.” In 1904, barely three years after Misamis and Surigao were declared regular provinces, General Wood wanted to include them within the Moro Province. A year later, the Zamboanga Chamber of Commerce, under its president Samuel DeRackin, passed a resolution “that all that portion of the Philippine Islands lying south of the Straits of Surigao should be created by act of Congress a territory of the United States” (Thompson 1975, 118). This move greatly alarmed the Christian leadership in Misamis and Surigao, because inclusion in the Moro Province would have automatically excluded them from participation in the incoming Philippine Assembly in 1907. In 1906, Manuel Corrales, Governor of Misamis, submitted to the Governor General a protest note signed by Misamis politicians opposing the plan. About 3,000 protesters gathered in front of the Provincial Building in a show of mini “people power.” Political leaders from Surigao sent their protest to President Roosevelt in Washington. The leadership of Dapitan, in northern Zamboanga, demanded to be separated from the Moro Province and placed instead within Misamis Province. Apparently, this vocal and timely opposition in Northern Mindanao succeeded in preserving the status of Misamis and Surigao as regular provinces, with full representation in the new Philippine Assembly.
Although the Moro Province was a distinctive governance apparatus, it was nevertheless oriented to approximate the system operating in the regular provinces:
Conceived as a transition from military to civil rule, the ostensible goal of the province was to bring its people under a form of control approximating and finally attaining the method of control exercised among the civilized peoples of the Philippines Islands (Amoroso 2005, 138; my emphasis).
Historically, however, the creation of local governments in the regular provinces was part of the Christianization process. Thus a practical problem confronts a historian or social anthropologist: how then would governance in the Moro Province approximate a Philippine model based on Christian evangelization, which Muslims had rejected over centuries of resistance? Since governance does not operate in a vacuum, it is well to review how the American master plan for Mindanao was superimposed on an earlier Spanish master plan. On 30 July 1860, Queen Isabel II of Spain issued two organic decrees: the first was to assign the Mindanao missions to the Jesuits who had just returned to the Philippines in 1859; the second was to create six politico-military districts for governing Mindanao (Schreurs 1994, 19-20). These six were: (1) District of Zamboanga; (2) District of North Mindanao; (3) District of East Mindanao; (4) District of Davao (5) District of Central Mindanao; and (6) District of Basilan. These divisions later appear in a Spanish map of 1890 with five distritos (minus Basilan) with their local names and capitals as follows:
#1 Distrito de Zamboanga Zamboanga
#2 Distrito de Misamis Cagayan
#3 Distrito de Surigao Surigao
#4 Distrito de Davao Davao
#5 Distrito de Cotabato Cotabato
The five-district territorial framework of 1890 is a crucial context for understanding the scope of Moro Province having five administrative “districts”—Zamboanga, Davao, Cotabato, Lanao, and Sulu. The first three were from the Spanish five-district framework of 1890. Lanao was excised from the Spanish “segundo distrito de Misamis.” And Sulu had always loomed as a distinct administrative region, being identified with the Sulu Sultanate.
Coastal Misamis and Surigao already had town centers and municipios (townships), which began as Christian mission stations of the Jesuits and the Recolletos. The Jesuits had their first successful mission in Butuan in 1596 but left shortly after to concentrate on work elsewhere. In 1622, the Augustinian Recollects arrived in Tandag, Surigao and established mission stations and local governments in “the coastal towns of Agusan, Surigao, Davao Oriental, and the eastern part of Misamis Oriental” (Bernad 2004, 56). The division of Mindanao missions between Jesuits and Recollects was formalized in 1624 with an imaginary line that extended from Punta Sulauan on northern Mindanao to Cape San Agustin at the southernmost point of Davao Gulf. East Mindanao was assigned to the Recollects, and west Mindanao to the Jesuits.
In the Spanish model of imperialism, evangelization a.id governance were integrated. Missionaries were integral partners with civilian administrators and military officers in expanding colonial control. The missionary policy was summed up as reducir, civilizar, cristianizar (Lynch 1956, 249). Small, scattered, seminomadic tribal groups first were “reduced” or induced to settle in larger community clusters—the better to teach and service them, to extract tribute and compulsory labor from them. This was the origin of the system of rancheria-visita-cabecera. A roving missionary based himself to a cabecera or head settlement from where he moved out to convert and service people in outlying hamlets. The system was later described as sitio-barrio-poblacion. On this local base grew the municipio and early provinces, earlier designated as alcaldia mayor and corregimiento (See Table 1 below for the summary).
Table 1. Local governance units in Hispanized regions of the Philippines
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As reconstructed by Phelan (1959) in The Hispanization of the Philippines, pre-Hispanic datus as heads of barangay were coopted and recognized as cabezas de barangay. While their inherited status exempted them from tribute and compulsory labor, they also had the duty to organize the collection of tribute from other members of the barangay. Above the cabezas de barangay, the Spaniards created the elective position of gobernadorcillo as the representative of the central government at the village level. This “democratic arrangement in which all married males voted was replaced by a more oligarchical franchise” had the retiring gobernadorcillo, twelve senior cabezas de barangay, and the parish priest nominating the three candidates for the successor gobernadorcillo (Phelan 1959, 125). The ,local magistracy included the gobernadorcillo as well as “his dewy, a constable, an inspector of palm trees, an inspector of rice fields and a notary” (Phelan 1959, 126). All these local leaders constituted the
principalia. The parish priest kept an eye on the principalia, since he played the role of “petty viceroy” of the Spanish king in his parish. The principalia stratum played a critical intermediary role between Manila and the natives in the surrounding provinces. On the Spanish achievement, Phelan (1959, 16-27) wrote with mixed admiration:
Although the Philippines did not achieve self-government on the national scale until very recently, the Filipinos had had extensive political experience on the level of local government since the late sixteenth century. New political practices introduced by the Spaniards such as the principles of hereditary succession, representation, election to office, and rotation in office, were meticulously observed. The system of local administration was oligarchical rather than democratic. Political office was monopolized by a small group of “bosses” in each community. Venality, widespread but petty, flourished. In the Hispanic world this system has come to be known as “caciquism.”
Najeeb Saleeby was an Arabic-speaking Lebanese-American official with the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes who was assigned to the Moro Province as Superintendent of Schools. Not in favor of direct rule, he argued instead for the. formation of —datuship councils’ among the Moros.” He believed that such councils would “eventually approximate the municipal councils of Christian Filipinos” (Go and Foster 2005, 138; my emphasis). These proposed datuship councils appear structurally similar to Phelan’s native principalia responsible for local governance in the regular provinces that evolved under Spain. In point of fact, early American attempts at reinstituting municipal governments and conducting local elections relied on Spanish precedents. With critical collaboration from Filipino ilustrados, a provisional scheme of municipal government was approved, one that was based on a Spanish model outlined in the Maura Law of 1893. The English version of this adaptation was later translated into Tagalog and disseminated. The Americans’ early success in reintroducing municipal governments is attested to by the creation of “more than 1,035 municipal governments and 31 provincial governments” (Abinales 2005, 151). As reconstituted by the Americans, a municipal council consisted of a president and a representative from each ward or barrio. Its responsibilities included police, school, sanitation, lighting, local commercial regulation, and the collection and disbursement of local taxes and revenues (Sullivan 1991, 77-78).
The Exceptionalism of Agusan and Bukidnon
The administration of Agusan and Bukidnon constituted the third governance apparatus for Mindanao. In 1907, the Americans created, out of Misamis and Surigao, the special province of Agusan and the subprovinces of Butuan and Bukidnon. According to Hontiveros (2004, 219),
Butuan took in the whole Agusan River valley as far south as the eight parallel of latitude, and east and west to the crests of the two watersheds. It also included some territory on the west coast of northern peninsula of Mindanao. Bukidnon included all of the territory inhabited by the people of the same name, and that of some wild Manobos in central Mindanao.
The boundary line between Agusan and Bukidnon was clear. But the western, southern, and northern boundary of Bukidnon was only vaguely indicated. Act No. 1693, the original statute that created Agusan and its two subprovinces, simply said that Bukidnon’s southern corner intersects “the eighth parallel of north latitude; and from this point shall extend in such a way as to separate, as far as may be practicable, the territory inhabited by non-Christian tribes in the Province of Misamis” (Lao 1985, 242). The town and municipality of Malaybalay was declared the seat of Bukidnon’s government; and the town of Butuan the seat of the government of Agusan. Agusan and its two subprovinces came under the mandate of the Special Province Government Act of 1905 and were administered directly under the Philippine Commission through the Department of Interior and the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes rather than through the Philippine Assembly.
The Spanish-era “distrito de Misamis” and the “distrito de Surigao” were extensive territories that accounted for nearly 40 percent of Mindanao, a pretty large chunk of real estate. Even though they were organized as regular provinces in 1901, local governance was limited to only a few population centers along the coast, such as Cagayan, Butuan, Surigao, and Tandag. Here, there was a semblance of town life organized around a church and a town plaza representing local government. Outside the towns, life still followed the traditional patterns of the Manobos, Bukidnons, Higaonons, and other non-Christian tribes. In both Misamis and Surigao, a pattern of exploitation through unfair trade badly damaged the communal life, culture, and health of the Manobos and Bukidnons in the hinterlands. It was a classic case of negative reciprocity where the strong oppress and exploit the weak through indebtedness. Evidence of such exploitative trade is found in several historical sfudies of Misamis and Surigao, such as Lao (1985, 49-50) below:
In business, the Bukidnons were exploited by the oppressive and cunning Filipino and Chinese businessmen from the coast …. The trick was to sate the native Bukidnons with wine, before buying at ridiculously low prices the latter’s farm products (cacao, coffee, hemp and the like). They resorted to this trickery in spite of the government ban on drinking hard liquor by members of the non-Christian tribes . . .. To ensure a continued monopoly and profit from a lucrative trade, businessmen from Cagayan, Agusan, and Gusa divided Bukidnon into spheres of business interest.
Hontiveros (2004, 221) writes:
In the Agusan River valley conditions were nearly as had. The people along the mainstream were for the most part broken-spirited Manobos. Their settlements had been parceled out among the members of the municipal council of Butuan to be plundered. The activities of these ‘Christian’ gentlemen had been such that a number of Manobo villages were already completely abandoned, while the people of others were gradually betaking themselves to secure hiding-places in the trackless forests which stretch east and west from the banks of the Agusan.
It was to stop or mitigate this trend that the Philippine Commission established the new jurisdictions of Agusan and Bukidnon. The system of Special Provinces came late to Mindanao because Worcester’s early focus was on northern Luzon. Starting with municipal elections in 1901, he brought together sixteen townships to form the special province of Benguet. Using the Benguet precedent, he established similar special provinces in Lepanto-Bontoc, Nueva Vizcaya, Mindoro, and Palawan. To further consolidate his work in the highlands, the Philippine Commission established in 1908 the Mountain Province, a multitribal governance system whose components were the subprovinces of Benguet, Amburayan, Lepanto, Bontoc, Kalinga, Apayao, and Ifugao. A military lieutenant governor exercised strong control in each of these seven subprovinces, just like the army lieutenant governors who administered the five districts of Moro Province. Worcester insisted on their separation from the rest of the Philippines. He vigorously opposed the idea of Filipinos being a single nation deserving a unified country of their own (Sullivan 1991, 150-151):
The Filipinos had no ‘just claim’ to tribal territory, whether it be the Igorot’s Luzon mountains or the Muslim south. The integration of tribal regions into a Philippine nation-state was neither possible nor desirable. Instead, he clearly implied, they should remain as American territory.
Worcester succeeded in placing his ‘non-Christians,’ whom he estimated at one-eighth of the population of the archipelago, beyond the control of the imminent Philippine Assembly [19071. Of at least equal significance was the land they occupied, whose area he calculated at almost half that of the Philippines. His justification centered on the supposed congenital incapacity and inhumanity of lowland Filipinos. These elements, he claimed, had been predominant in the past behavior of the lowlanders towards tribal people, producing an “insurmountable barrier” of ‘hatred’ between the two groups (my emphasis).
The 1907 creation of Agusan and Bukidnon antedated the inauguration of the Philippines Assembly, and thereby deprived it of control over tribes people and their territories. Administration in Agusan and Bukidnon followed the pattern Worcester had earlier developed in northern Luzon. He placed his own trusted men to run the special provinces he created. Usually, these were ex-Army men who had decided to serve in the Philippine Constabulary to consolidate American civilian control in the hinterlands. Worcesteri appointed as the first governor of Agusan . Captain Frederick Johnston of the Philippine Constabulary, who had gained much experience dealing with natives during his earlier deployment in Moro Province. Johnston served the longest in Agusan and was succeeded by John R. White, who in turn was succeeded by Frederick Lewis. The latter started as Lieutenant Governor of thesubprovince of Bukidnon where his assistant was ManuelaFgorirctuicihti. This founder of the Fortich political family in Bukidnon was also an ex-Constabulary officer who Worcester befriended and who became a trusted facilitator for Worcester’s ranching venture in Bukidnon. When Bukidnon was promoted from the status of a subprovince to that of a full special province parallel with Agusan, Fortich b governor and was instrumental in promoting ranching, and government service in Bukidnon. The hierarchy of administrative) supervision was patterned after that of the ‘regular provinces.’ The province was headed by a governor assisted by a provincial board. below the province were municipalities and municipality districts administered by mayors; and within the municipalities were barrios supervised by barrio lieutenants.
Tribal groups in Agusan and Bukidnon received special development assistance more than they would have enjoyed had they remained under Misamis and Surigao. The most remarkable improvements were in (1) public works and transportation—roads in Bukidnon and improved river transport up and down Agusan River; (2) town planning, sanitation, and health education; (3) agricultural and industrial schools; (4) government stores and exchanges where natives could dispose of their produce and buy supplies without being cheated; and (5) increased participation in local government. Bukidnon continued to grow and prosper under the Department of Mindanao and Sulu where it was treated on par with the older districts of the former Moro Province.
Transition: From Military to Civilian, Special to Regular
Worcester’s ethnicity-driven and separatist logic turned out to be unsustainable. The overarching premise of American policy on the Philippines was preparation for eventual independence. Even though the Republicans favored longer retention and the Democrats were for rapid Filipinization, ultimately both agreed that American presence in the islands was temporary. It is this larger American logic that explains the transitional structure of the Moro Province, the Special Provinces, the Department of Mindanao and Sulu, and even that of the Philippine Commonwealth, the latter being a preparation for full independence in 1946.
The American military command in the Philippines and the Philippine Commission collaborated on the blueprint of the Moro Province. They saw the advantage of combining military presence and power with the establishment of civil institutions and procedures. The overall mission was “the pacification of dissident elements, the establishment of law and the preparation of the Moros for their proper place in the body politic of the Philippines.” The Americans took a page from the Spanish book on governing the “unpacified regions” of the Philippines and in effect created a sort of politico-military province—i.e., the Moro Province. Philippine Commission passed Act No. 787 on 1 June 1903; it took effect on 15 July 1903. It was entitled
“An Act Providing for the Organization and Government of the Moro Province.” The framers considered it “a governmental framework within which transition from military to civil rule in Moro land would take place wherever and whenever the duly constituted authorities felt it was indicated” (Gowing 1977, 73; my emphasis).
Moro Province had administrative positions that had civilian functions but staffed by US Army officers. The governing body consisted of six officials—a Provincial Governor assisted by a Secretary, Treasurer, Attorney, Engineer, and Superintendent of Schdols. The six formed the Legislative Council that had legislative and executive functions separate from but under the supervision ultimately of the Philippine Commission. Within Moro Province were established five districts—Davao, Cotabato, Lanao, Sulu, and Zamboanga—which were governed by five District Governors who were military officers and subordinate to the Provincial Governor. The first three governors of Moro Province were General Leonard Wood (1903-1906), General Tasker H. Bliss (1906-1909), and General John J. Pershing (1909-1913)—all were concurrently commanding generals of the Department of Mindanao of the US Army in the Philippines (Thompson 1975).
Moro Province had legislative and executive functions that covered all aspects of governance. The civilian administrative functions concentrated on improving public health, public education, public works, courts of justice, taxation, public administration, and economic development in the major sectors of transportation, trade, agriculture, and industry. General Wood is generally credited with major successes in law enforcement, General Bliss with great strides in public education, and General Pershing with accelerating economic development. It was during Pershing’s term that a Department of Commerce and Industry was established. When he took over as governor in 1909, American army officers held practically all key positions in the province. The six district governors, except one, were army officers. In the six-member Legislative Council, three military officers occupied the position of Governor, Secretary, and Engineer. By 1913, however, only two army officers were left—the Provincial Governor and the Provincial Health Officer, All six districts had civilian governors, except Lanao. In Lanao the positions of District Governor and District Secretary were turned over to the Constabulary, which was considered a civilian agency. Another innovation noted during Pershing’s term was the appointment of seven Moro chiefs as Deputy District Governors —three in Sulu, two in Lanao, and one each in Cotabato and Zamboanga.
The changing proportion of military and civilian personnel is a useful index for understanding the transition from military to civilian governance in Mindanao. The number of US Army troops deployed in the Philippines fell dramatically—from 71,528 in 1901 to 17,746 in 1903. There was a corresponding increase in the number of native constabulary soldiers recruited partly as state police to secure peace and order and partly as auxiliary to the remaining regular US Army. In 1904, about 7,000 constables were under the command of 345 US officers (Boudreau 2005, 265), A large proportion of those US Army troops that stayed in the Philippines were assigned to the Moro Province, because this was the largest territory where the US Army continued to be actively involved in military and civil affairs.
It is important to note that the US military created two armed organizations in the Philippines, both organizations having a mixture of American soldiers and native recruits headed by American officers. The first was the Philippine Scouts, created in 1899 by the US War Department, apparently before the inauguration of the Philippine Commission. As a special unit of the regular US Army, the Philippine Scouts saw action in Luzon fighting Filipino revolutionary forces, in Mindanao and Sulu during the Moro campaigns, and against the Japanese during World War II. After the Pacific War, units of the Philippine Scouts were absorbed into the regular US Army. The organization itself was decommissioned. The other organization was the Philippine Constabulary founded in August of 1901 by the Philippine Commission. This organization was conceived as an Insular Police Force and therefore was structurally different from the Philippine Scouts organized as a unit of the US Army. The Philippine Constabulary’ remained an instrumentality of the Philippine government even after the US Army left the Philippines (Jose 1992, 13-22).
Both Constabulary and Scouts served actively in all five districts of the Moro Province. By 1904, the Province had seventeen Constabulary officers, “all of whom were Americans or.Christian Filipinos, and 353 enlisted men, one third of them Maros” (Gowing 1977, 150). Their main function was police work outside the better organized towns and in tribal wards. They carried out such routine police activities as “investigating murder and other crimes of violence; catching thieves and recovering stolen property; establishing peace among rival Moro factions; protecting the hill people from Moro exploitation; pursuing slavers and smugglers; and controlling piracy and banditry” (Gowing 1977, 149). The US Army was held in reserve for more serious military operations. Philippine Scouts and Constabulary units joined regular US Army troops in the two major Moro encounters in Sulu, first at Bud Dajo in 1906 under General Wood and at Bud Bagsak in 1913 under General Pershing. A Moro Constabulary unit proudly donned a uniform with red fez in recognition of their Muslim background. At the level of the municipalities, a separate organization of local police was used for maintaining community peace and order.
The creation of a “Moro Constabulary” was not unprecedented in the sense that other native troops were recruited in Luzon and the Visayas to join the Philippine Scouts, a policy guided by both practical strategy and “ethnolOgical epistemology.” The first Luzon natives to be recruited were the Macabebes of Pampanga; the first company was formed as early as 4 September 1899 while the US Army was still fighting Aguinaldo and the remnants of the Katipunan. The early hires were civilian contract workers—as guides, or boatmen, and occasionally as fighters. Very quickly, other companies were formed into fighting units, all identified in tribal terms, under the existing ethnological epistemology. According to Jose (1992, 14):
By July 1, 1901 the separate units totaled thirty-four companies: seven Macabebe, eleven Ilocano, four Cagayano, one Boholano, one Cebuano, two Negrense, and eight in Panay …. Although the scouts were officially listed as civilian employees and paid as such, they were de facto soldiers with khaki uniforms and Springfield carbines, who fought battles in the front lines. Many of the scouts had served in the Spanish colonial army and had already received some military training; several had feared reprisal from the revolutionary forces for having sided with the Spaniards, and had felt it safer and more practical to join the U.S. forces.
The value the US military saw in forming a Moro Constabulary must have been similar to what it saw in establishing native troops as units in the Philippine Scouts. As long as their loyalty to their US officers was unquestioned, these native troops were valuable assets able to “distinguish friend from foe, speak the language” and “knew the terrain intimately” (Jose 1992, 14).
General Pershing, the last military governor of Moro Province, believed that general peace in Mindanao and Sulu could be maintained only by a continuance of American control; that Maros realized that they had experienced great prosperity under the American Government; that they did not desire the reins to pass into other hands (Gowing 1977, 255). Nevertheless, it was during his term that Moro Province was dissolved and absorbed into the [civilian] Department of Mindanao of Sulu under Frank Carpenter as civil governor.
Integration of the Three Modes of Governance
The same year 1913 when the Moro Province was dissolved, the military Department of Mindanao and Sulu was also abolished. US Army units were pulled out, and Constabulary soldiers were substituted to carry on the work of maintaining peace and order. The name “Department of Mindanao and Sulu” lost its military reference and assumed a fully civilian connotation under Governor Frank Carpenter. This new departmental governance, just like Moro Province, was designed as a temporary apparatus, scaffolding that eventually was pulled down when its seven constituent provinces could stand forth and function as regular provinces like those in the rest of the Philippines. A self-destruct proviso was built into the Organic Act No. 2408 entitled “An Act Providing a Temporary Form of Government for the Territory known as the Department of Mindanao and Sulu, Making Applicable Thereto, with Certain Exceptions, the Provisions of General Laws Now in Force in the Philippine Islands, and for Other Purposes” [my emphasis]. Its Preamble explicitly states that the Commission is firm in its purpose to abolish the departmental government as soon as the several districts of said region [Moro Province and Special Provinces shall have been converted into regularly organized provinces (Gowing 1977, 261; my emphasis). The Department was in operation for six years, from 1914 to 1920. By 5 February 1920, the process of regularization was officially completed and the Department of Mindanao and Sulu, just like the Moro Province in 1913, passed into history. It should be pointed out that even after the Department scaffolding was removed, the provinces of Cotabato, Lanao, Sulu, and Zamboanga still carried the label “special provinces,” although now directly linked to the central government, without the Department apparatus as an intermediary. Governor Carpenter stayed on as Governor until 1918, the year he took over the administration of the new Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes. Replacing Carpenter as Department Governor was Teofisto Guingona, the Department’s Secretary Guingona served formerly as Governor of the Special Province of Agusan. After the Department was abolished, he also moved up to be Director of the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes, following Carpenter.
Changes made under the Department of Mindanao and Sulu are evident in the new nomenclature used to designate administrative units. The former “districts” became “provinces” and “district governors” became “provincial governors.” The term “municipality” remained unchanged, but “tribal wards” became “municipal districts.” The latter were expected to evolve and “mature” into regular municipalities (See Tables 2 and 3). Substantive changes behind the change in nomenclature were also evident. The Department had yielded to the central government the legislative and administrative authority with respect to public works, public health, public education, civil service, the administration of justice, bureau of lands, bureau of forestry, bureau of internal revenue, and economic development. During the Moro Province period, policy decisions on these concerns were initiated and legislated by the Legislative Council of the Moro Province. In the succeeding Department, a new Administrative Council replaced the old Legislative Council. The Administrative Council enjoyed only advisory power, since legislative function was now vested in the Philippine Commission in Manila. The members of the Administrative Council were the Governor, Department Secretary, Department Treasurer, Department Attorney, and Department Delegate (an appointive representative to the Philippine Legislature). The Department Governor, however, kept control over the Constabulary.
Changes were also evident at the provincial level. Here, the Provincial Governor was assisted by a Deputy Provincial Governor and by a Provincial Board, which had lawmaking and administrative functions comparable to those of the ‘regular provinces.’ The Provincial Board consisted of the Provincial Governor, the Provincial Secretary-Treasurer, and a “third member.” The last element was an innovation because the position was to be elective,, thus allowing the will of the electorate to be expressed in provincial governance.
Table 2. Organization of the Moro Province (1903-1913)
[Refer to the Original Copy]
Table 3. Organization of the Department of Mindanao and Sulu (1914-1920)
[Refer to the Original Copy]
Initially, the Provincial Governor and other province-level officials were appointed by the Department Governor with the final approval of the Governor General in Manila. Over time, these positions were also made subject to electoral choice, and the increasing number of elective positions compared to appointive ones was the measure of how close the province was to the standard of the regular provinces of the Philippines.
At the municipal level, innovations were also introduced. The municipal executive was the Municipal President (now Municipal Mayor), assisted by a Municipal Council composed of the Vice President (Vice Mayor) and a Councilor each from the component barrios of the municipality. The Provincial Governor appointed the Municipal President while the Vice President and the councilors were elected. Eventually, the Municipal President was also elected. Again, the number of officers chosen by election was used as a measure of approximation to the standard of the regularly organized provinces and municipalities. The overall objective was “the extension thereto [the seven provinces of the Department] of the general laws of the country and of the general forms and procedures of government followed in other provinces” (Gowing 1977, 261). Understandably, the personnel in the Department of Mindanao and Sulu increasingly became more civilian than military, more Filipino than American. When Carpenter started as Governor in 1914, there were twenty-six Americans in the Department, but this number went down to six the following year. The number of Filipino employees went up from seventeen to thirty-seven during the same period (Abinales 2000, 34). The inclusion of Moro personnel in appointive and elective positions did not happen as fast as the Moro leadership had expected. In the Constabulary’s Filipinization program, only five Maros achieved officer ranks during this period. In the Philippine Legislature, however, as it was in the previous Philippine Assembly, there were more Moro leaders representing Mindanao and Sulu. In the inauguration of the new bicameral congress, Governor General Harrison appointed five Moro delegates to the Lower House—among them Datu Benito of Lanao and Datu Piang of Cotabato—and Hadji Butu to the Senate (Abinales 2000, 38).
Conclusion and Reflections
The three divergent governance apparatuses for Mindanao between 1903 and 1913 were major executive responses to mandates from President McKinley and President Roosevelt to ensure that non-Christian peoples in the Philippines are governed differently, according to their distinctive cultural conditions. The US War Department had much say in effecting the shift from military to civilian governance, succeeding more quickly in the pacified provinces and more slowly in the territories occupied by tribes people and Moros. The governance arrangement designed for the non-Christian groups was the Philippine Commission’s way of delegating to the US military the responsibility of helping pagans and Moros transition to a civilian life comparable to the prevailing system in the rest of the Philippines. When the US Army began to physically withdraw from Mindanao and Northern Luzon, it also delegated its administrative function to civilian authorities and its law enforcement function to the Constabulary. When American officers in the Constabulary were recalled to regular army duties, Filipino officers began to move up the Constabulary command hierarchy, Hence, even the US military establishment was responsive to political developments in Washington.
Washington party politics was the ultimate controlling variable in delaying or hastening the transition from military to civilian rule and, from temporary to final, nationwide forms of governance. The incoming Democratic administration under President Woodrow Wilson started in 1912 to reverse previous Republican policies on future Philippine independence and mandated accelerated Filipino participation in their government. Radical changes followed in the central government in Manila and in local governments in the provinces. Jones Bill, which was passed in 1916, was entitled “An Act to Declare the Purpose of the People of the United States as to the Future Political Status of the people of the Philippine Islands, and to Provide a More Autonomous Government for Those Islands.” Jones Law was responsible for abolishing the Philippine Commission, for establishing a Senate, and for inaugurating a fully bicameral Philippine Legislature—with both in the hands of Filipino nationalists. The new legislature did away with the triple governance apparatus that heretofore prevented the central government from having legislative control over tribes people and Moros. It established a new Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes under a new Secretary of Interior to administer them. The second Bureau looked similar to the first Bureau, in that both were placed under the Department of Interior. The difference was that the second Bureau was set up after Jones Law and was therefore under the legislative control of the Philippine Congress, whereas before it was under the Philippine Commission but outside the Philippine Assembly.
Worcester’s career is instructive for understanding the connection between the governance question explored in this paper and economic history. He himself had transitioned from being “king of the Special Government Provinces” to being a dominant and successful American entrepreneur in the Philippines. Sensing that he would be losing his government job under the incoming Democratic administration, in 1912 he submitted a proposal to the Bureau of Insular Affairs in Washington to create a new position for him—”special commissioner for the non-Christians”–a role that would allow him “to spend all of my time on the work for the wild people.” He believed he could “accomplish more for Filipino people out of the service than in it under Ethel coming administration” (Sullivan 1991, 163-64).
This proposal assumed he could exercise his powers outside the Assembly, subject only to the Governor General. As it turned out the proposal failed. Worcester resigned from government service finally in June 1913. Underneath his “attachment” to the non-Christians was a deep-driving and systematic interest in business ventures. After leaving government service, he successfully leveraged his knowledge of tribal territories with powerful capitalists and investors in the American-Philippine Company. Having secured with Worcester’s help large tracts of undeveloped land in Bukidnon, the company formed three subsidiaries; the Bukidnon Plantation Company, the Insular Transportation Company, and the Visayan Refining Company. The American-Philippine Company appointed Worcester as “general administrator” in the islands; and he had executive responsibility for the three subsidiaries. The oil refining operation metamorphosed to become the Philippine Refining Corporation, of which Worcester was Vice President. As a valuable corporate policy adviser and executive, Worcester earned annual salaries ranging from USD15,000 to USD35,000 (Sullivan 1991, 201), most probably more than what he earned as Secretary of Interior in the Insular Government.
Two of Worcester’s largest and most successful business ventures were in a coconut plantation in Agusan and a cattle ranch in Bukidnon. The San Miguel Estate in the Agusan Valley was the largest and most efficient coconut plantation in the Philippines, with 250,000 trees in 1937. It was American-owned but developed and managed by Worcester under the Agusan Coconut Company. Further, Worcester’s Diklum Ranch in Bukidnon had 6,000 heads of cattle. Between this and Fortich’s 2,000-head Star Crescent Ranch, the two dominated and pioneered Bukidnon’s ranching industry in 1920. It surely was not a coincidence that Worcester’s success in coconut farming and cattle raising were situated in Agusan and Bukidnon, the two territories he transformed into Special Government Provinces in 1907. He continued to flourish as a valuable corporate player until his death in 1924. In retrospect, President McKinley’s famous declaration—”The Philippines are not ours to exploit, but to develop, to civilize, to educate, to train in the science of self-government”—has to be interpreted within the larger economic and industrial history of the Philippines in which American businesses benefited as much as, if not more than, the Philippine inhabitants. Quoting Boudreau (2005, 266):
From 1901 onward, as the coercive American presence declined, the shock troops of U.S. colonialism arrived in robust numbers: Newspapermen, entrepreneurs, bankers, and lawyers flooded Manila and streamed into the provinces. They took charge of a massive effort to meet greatly expanded Western demand for tropical products such as sugar, copra, and abaca. They established the great sugar centrals, mapped out strategies for broader fruit production for export markets, and accelerated timber and mining operations. In these efforts, they worked hand in hand with the landed provincial elite who had been gathering power and productive resources during the last years of Spanish rule.
Interreligious Dialogue: An Essential to Peace and Development in Mindanao
During the heated controversy over the Southern Philippine Council for Peace and Development (SPCPD) last year 1996, that is during the months of June, July and August, Gov. Emano of Misamis Oriental proposed the establishment of autonomy for the whole Mindanao. This was later echoed in many quarters by business people, especially here in Davao City, General Santos City and Cagayan de Oro City. Even Nur Misuari himself accepted the possibility after the Muslim autonomous area has been developed. Privately, our little president for Mindanao, Presidential Assistant Paul Dominguez, really believes the entire Mindanao can develop faster when “Imperial Manila” loses its grip over this region. Emano, Misuari, Dominguez and other Mindanaoans believe Mindanao can easily become another Singapore.
I do not know much about economics and politics but I would be happy to see the entire Mindanao region become autonomous. I do believe that we have political leaders and economic managers who can make Mindanao even better than Singapore, a well-developed island within the Republic of the Philippines.
I say “even better than Singapore” because Singapore is now in crisis according to its reports. Singapore is in crisis because it lacks unity and harmony within its pluralistic society.
Lee Kuan Hew and his successors have not been able to promote deeper unity among the Malays, Chinese, and Indians who constitute the citizenry of that city-state. The people are now complaining that Singapore is like a “business emporium”, a megamall where you can have everything you need for your body and nothing for your spirit. These people are believers. The Malay are either Muslims or Christians, the Chinese are either Buddhists or Confucianists, and the Indians are mainly Hindus. Lee Kuan Hew had tried to forge unity among the followers of Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, and Confucianism by having a common national festival, a common national dance, a common national song, a common national flower, etc. He and his successors have not succeeded. In the midst of their economic prosperity and affluence, the Singaporeans are looking for more. Theirs is a spiritual and moral crisis, it seems to me.
I do not believe this will happen to Mindanao, however peaceful and developed it becomes. I do not think that religious pluralism in Mindanao will be a problem. The religious leaders of Islam, of Christianity, of Buddhism and Confucianism, and of the indigenous religions are aware of the need for tolerance and understanding through dialogue which can promote peace, unity, harmony, and solidarity. Hence, a series of interreligious activities has taken place lately. These events have been considered as surprising and even historic because they were unprecedented.
Last year, on 29 November 1996, the historic dialogue of the Muslim Ulama League of the Philippines and the Catholic Bishops of Mindanao took place in Cebu City. Two months later, on 7 January 1997, the same Muslim religious leaders met with the protestant and Aglipayan Bishops of Mindanao who are members of the National Council of Churches in the Philippines (or NCCP- Mindanao). This meeting was held in
Cagayan de Ore City.
On 18 February 1997 here in Davao City at the Sychar Hotel, the Mindanao Catholic Bishops had their second dialogue with the Ulama League of the Philippines. The day after, February 19, Dr. Mahid Mutilan, head of the Ulama League addressed the gathering of 300 Catholic priests from all over Mindanao who were having their annual convention in Samal Island Beach Resort.
On 4 May 1997, as a Bishop from Mindanao and National Chairman of the Catholic Bishops’ Commission for Interreligious dialogue, I took part in the first official and historic dialogue between the Buddhists and Christians in the Philippines. It was held in the Manila Hotel where I addressed more than 1,000 Filipino Buddhists on the topic “Inner Awareness and Enlightenment.” There were 3 Buddhist Monks from Taiwan and the United States. This coming August 2, here at Victorio’s Beach Seminar House, 12 bailans or shamans from 8 tribes in Mindanao will meet with me and my staff to prepare for a general assembly of shamans and Christian religious leaders on 25 October 1997 here in Davao City on the subject of a Filipino spirituality of creation. The shamans will be our resource persons.
All these gatherings of Muslims, Buddhists, Christians, and Lumads or Indigenous religious leaders were about how our respective religious beliefs can help promote tolerance, justice, respect, understanding, unity, and solidarity which, as everyone knows are essential elements of a lasting peace and sustainable development.
Allow me to read to you, by way of an illustration, the Joint Statement of the Muslim Ulama League and the Mindanao Catholic Bishops which came out after our dialogue here on 18 February 1997.
JOINT STATEMENT
In the service of Peace and Development in Mindanao
In this second dialogue among Catholic Bishops in Mindanao and the Ulama League of the Philippines, held in Davao City on the 18th day of Febmary 1997, we participants wish to express the following points:
1. We have gathered together in greater numbers to re-affirm our commitment to the peace process, especially in the aftermath of the killing of Bishop Benjamin De Jesus in Jolo. We condemn his brutal killing and other events that may disrupt the peace process and endorse an independent investigation into the root causes of his death to satisfy the full demands of justice.
2. We support the ongoing peace talks between the MILF and the government and appeal to both sides, as well as other contending parties, to promote a peace process that is community-based and “seeks a principled and peaceful resolution of the armed conflict with neither blame nor surrender but with dignity for all concerned.”
3. We condemn the formation of vigilante or fanatical groups on either side and re-affirm our resolve to work for the security of minority Muslims living in Christian-dominated areas, as well as minority Christians living in Muslim-dominated areas.
4. We encourage our local religious leaders- parish priests, ulama. Imams, etc.- to form multi-religious local- level structures to ensure a continuing dialogue and action towards a culture of peace.
5. Other matters we have endorsed in this dialogue are:
a.) promoting an information drive on Islam and Christianity for mutual understanding among religious communities;
b.) respecting the religious traditions and literature of Muslim students in Catholic schools and in general, the freedom of religious expression for all Filipino students, including the right to say prayers in public or private schools;
c.) encouraging local government units to set up the Office of Muslim Affairs or the Office of Christian Affairs in areas where they are needed;
d.) working for the recognition of the rights of the Filipino overseas contract workers to practice freely their religion in countries where they are employed, particularly in Middle East;
e.) encouraging the government and the SPCPD to speed up the rehabilitation of MNLF ex-soldiers and development projects in the Zone of Peace and Development (ZOPAD) to concretize the peace process;
f.) continuing the series of dialogues among ourselves, including Protestant religious leaders, and to follow up the seven areas of concern expressed earlier during the first dialogue; and
g.) setting up a joint secretariat to follow up all these concerns.
May this dialogue gathering bring to life the counsel of our sacred traditions:
“…enter into peace (totally and without exception)”… Qur’an 2:208
“…Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God” (Matthew 5:9)
Gov. Mahid M. Mutilan
President
Archbishop Femando R. Capalla
Archbishop of Davao
Ulama League of the Phihppines
& Governor, Lanao del Sur
Convenor
Episcopal Commission for
Intereligious Dialogue
Co-convenor
This coming August 12 in Cagayan de Oro City, the Muslim Ulama, the Catholic, Protestant, and Aglipayan Bishops will hold our 4th assembly or forum where we will finalize the setting up of a Secretariat and a sub-center in all the cities and major towns in Mindanao.
All these meetings and assemblies we call “interreligious dialogue” because they focus on religious matters and concerns which actually are values of the spirit. The dialogues promote mutual understanding and enrichment. Inherent in the faith of Islam, Buddhism, Christianity , and the primal religions are universal values like love, respect, honesty, forgiveness, prayer, sacrifice, sense of the sacred, etc., although the formulation and interpretation of them would be different and the rituals are as varied as there are cultures and countries. These values are proof that they originate from a common source which is the Creator and therefore prove that we have a common humanity. These values and the common aspirations for peace of heart and soul, an essential ingredient in the total development of the human spirit.
We believe, therefore, that this kind of dialogue among religious communities in Mindanao is the missing part in the peace and development process now obtaining focuses only on the social, economic, political, and cultural factors. Interreligious dialogue therefore completes the process.
In the concrete, what can we religious leaders of Islam, Christianity, Buddhism and the primal religion do to help?
As can be seen from the Joint Statement, our approach will be on two levels: on the level of the political and economic leaders, and on the level of the community.
On the top level, we can approach our government leaders, politicians and economic managers, the MNLF and MILF, as well as the Abu Sayaf and the CPP-NPA-NDF leadership, in order to make known to them that true peace is not just the absence of war but is based on truth, justice, love and also respect for the environment. We thus can also make it clear that true development can only be strengthened by allowing that person to grow spiritually and morally, not just socially, economically, politically and culturally..
On the level of the community, through our parish priests, pastors, and imams, and through our schools and madrassahs, we can inculcate the same values of genuine peace and development by promoting interreligious dialogue on their level, that is, in the province and towns, in schools and in their work area.
In summary, interreligious dialogue is essential to peace and development in Mindanao because it is a heart- to-heart sharing of religious aspirations and experiences and because this sharing has a way of purifying and strengthening the social, economic, political and cultural ideas, plans, programs of our government and society. Interreligious dialogue wants to underline the truth that power, profit, and because this sharing has a way of purifying and strengthening the social, economic, political and cultural ideas, plans, programs of our government and society. Interreligious dialogue wants to underline the truth that power, profit, and popularity cannot instill peace of heart. Instead, interreligious dialogue wants to stress the primacy of the spirit over the matter. It wants to emphasize the people’s religious belief and conviction that God’s spirit can dwell in and calm the movements of one’s heart and mind, towards that ineffable experience of peace and tranquility which human language is unable to describe adequately. It is for this reason that we can say with that holy man of peace, Pope John Paul II, that “the peace of the heart is the heart of peace.”
Mindanao and the New Millennium: Fulfillment in Progress
Introduction
When Fr. Martinez first called to inform me that I was selected to be the recipient of the Honorary Doctoral Degree in the Humanities, from the Ateneo, I was both thrilled and saddened. Thrilled because it is certainly a great honor to be conferred this recognition by such a prestigious University as the Ateneo de Davao. I was a bit sad, however, for a number of reasons. First of all I realized that while it took you only 4 years to 5 years to attain your degrees, it took me over 30 years to get mine. Yes, I am proud to have been associated with the Ateneo de Davao for more time than I have been married to my lovely wife, Ball. Incidentally we are celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary on 15th of April. So after 30 years, she can finally tell her mother that she is married to a Doctor.
Yes, I have been happily associated with the Ateneo de Davao for 32 years: 6 years in the Grade School, 4 years in High School and 22 years on the Board of Trustees. I can spend the better part of the day reminiscing about how the Ateneo has developed since 1951 when I entered first grade, but let me spare you that.
I was saddened also by the thought that many of those who helped me in my formative years are no longer with us. My grandparents, my father, Charlie, my uncle, Armando, and many more are now gone. I would like very much to share this honor with them and with the men and women who have devoted their lives to the Ateneo, and who have touched my life. Their names will probably be unfamiliar to you but I cherish their memories: Fr. Mark Falvey, Mr. Filemon Ringor, Ms. Corcucra, Mr. Alconera, Mr. Nationales, Ms. Ebro, Mr. Izonza, to name a few from my grade school days. From my time in high school: Fr. Edgardo Reyes, Fr. Freddie Balinong, Fr. Neil Mahoney, Fr. Dick Leonard, Fr. Hudson Mitchell, Mr. Alpaz, Mr. Enriquez, Mr. Nidea, Mr. Estrada, Fr. Mario Alinea, Fr. Ryan, Fr. Tom Murphy, Fr. Miguel Varela, Mr. Barcelan and of course the indestructible Fr. Paul Finster. These are the men and women who worked to create this school and who have helped make me what I have become. To all of these outstanding men and women I dedicate this award.
Just as these men and women have helped mold students in this school, many historical forces have molded Mindanao in into what is now. As graduates planning on where to make your mark — here in Mindanao or elsewhere; it is important that you examine the historical roots of Mindanao in order to be able to discern its future, and what the future holds in store for you.
Examining The Past
Mindanao’s past, as recent as five years ago, starkly reminds us that the only way for us to surmount the problems of development is to bind ourselves together in the spirit of helping one another. Our past was dominated with the perception of a backward economy despite possession of vast natural resources. The description was correct but unfortunately it did not enlighten us as to why this ironic situation persisted. Our effort to understand Mindanao’s past yielded some valuable insights that may guide you in charting your future.
The undeveloped character of Mindanao’s economy in the past can be attributed to four factors. First, our island was consigned the role of being the supplier of the food and raw material needs of Metro Manila and Cebu. Consequently, all roads from the hinterland led to the coasts where ships transported goods to the country’s prime cities. In other words, it was a classic colonial economy. Thus, there was no need to link the various regions in the island because there was minimal inter-Regional trade to speak of.
Second was the existence of plantation enclaves and extractive industries in the island which did not have any linkages with the domestic economy. This again was the by-product of the colonial mode of development.
Third was the administrative division of the island into regions based on the dubious political considerations of control by the authoritarian regime, rather than an administrative organization aimed at Mindanao’s wholistic development.
Finally, the continuing armed conflict discouraged investors from locating their operations in Mindanao due to the perception of an absence of peace and order.
Given this situation, the way is clear to address the colonial and fragmented nature of Mindanao’s development.
The objective is to promote regional trade within Mindanao and to diversify the island’s markets for its products. This objective could be achieved by integrating the island’s economy in two senses: one by providing the physical infrastructure (roads, bridges, transport, sea and air ports, and telecommunications) to link the entire island as one economy; and two, to encourage its participation in the global economy through trade.
As for the peace and order problem, the solution was to pursue negotiations with the various armed groups, to achieve a just and lasting peace in the island.
Winds Of Change
The administration of President Corazon Aquino began the process of addressing Mindanao’s problems. The Ramos administration should be commended for continuing the process and opening the windows of opportunities for Mindanao by consciously including the island in the national agenda for development. Among the programs that induced the accelerated growth of Mindanao are the following:
1. The flagship projects which prioritized the infrastructure requirements of Mindanao resulting in the integration of its various regions;
2. The creation of the BIMP-EAGA, which encouraged Mindanao to trade with neighboring East Asian countries, thereby diversifying markets for its products. It also enabled Mindanao to cast aside its unenviable reputation of being the country’s “backdoor” to being the nation’s “frontdoor”to ASEAN.
3. The renewed emphasis of the government on food security. As Mindanao’s agriculture represents almost forty percent of Philippine agriculture, the development of Mindanao’s countryside logically became a critical component of attaining the goal of food security; and finally,
4. The peace negotiations with various armed groups which achieved a breakthrough with the signing of a peace accord between the government and the MNLF. The peace agreement brought to the national attention the need to uplift the living conditions of the depressed areas in Mindanao.
I will not be doing justice to the efforts of the past two administrations to foster the development of our island if I do not mention here the personal attention accorded by President Aquino and President Ramos to Mindanao’s needs. You can see the importance that the past two administrations attached to the development of Mindanao by the numerous visits both former President Aquino and President Ramos have made to Mindanao.
Living Up To The Challenge
The economic performance of Mindanao during the last four years has proven that we have lived up to the challenge of development. During this period, our gross regional domestic product averaged a growth of more than 4 percent in marked contrast to the mere half a percent attained in 1992. Exports rose from 18 percent in 1992 to 26 percent in 1995.
Economic growth is a function of investments and investments in Mindanao have registered dramatic growth. Bank deposits rose from 1992 to 1995 while the loan portfolio increased at an average annual growth of 40 percent during the same period.
A noticeable offshoot of these are the rapid changes in the physical makeup of the island. A construction boom is occurring as reflected in the yearly increase in building permits issued. The number of available telephone lines rose sharply from 63,000 lines in 1992 to 148,000 in 1995. And with the recent entry of telephone companies specializing on mobile or cellular phones, which have become ubiquitous in our cities, the growth in terms of new lines installed must have been more explosive last year.
Mindanao’s robust economic growth was clearly reflected in energy consumption which rose at an average rate of 19 percent during the 1992-1995 period. But what is more astounding is that our energy supply has become more reliable than four years ago when we were struck by the most crippling outrages that this country has ever experienced.
I am sure that you will agree with me that economic growth is devoid of meaning if its blessings are not shared by those who need them most. It is heartening to note that this has been the case for Mindanao. The available data on family income and expenditure survey, a survey conducted every three years, revealed that family income in Mindanao grew at a yearly rate of 10 percent from 1988 to 1994. We anticipate that the results of the next survey will show even more dramatic results.
Not Enough
Although we have accomplished much in the last five years, the results are far from satisfactory. Our growth rate is not at pace with the national average. The 1997 budgetary allocation for infrastructure gave Mindanao only a 24 percent share while our land area represents a third of the country and our population more than a fourth of it.
More worrying is the fact that the poverty incidence in Mindanao is the highest in the country; not surprisingly, 14 of the 20 poorest provinces in the Philippines are found in Mindanao.
In the field of education, it is sad to note that the average years of schooling in Mindanao is only six years while Luzon is nearly 8 years. Teacher competency leaves much to be desired as the passing percentage of those who took the teachers exam is only 11.5 percent here compared to Luzon’s 18.5 percent. As such, our literacy rate is significantly lower than in Luzon.
The woeful state of the delivery of social services in Mindanao undeniably contributed to the existence of a sizeable armed group here. Also without doubt, is the direct correlation between widespread poverty and the presence of armed combatants; our most depressed provinces serve as a haven to rebel forces.
Relevant Agenda
Peace and development definitely will remain the key elements for Mindanao’s agenda in the years ahead. During the last five years, we have achieved partial fulfillment of the promise of progress through the active support of the Ramos administration. We have to make sure that this support continues beyond the expiration of the incumbent president’s term in 1998. We can no longer afford the previous situation where past and successive political administrations paid only lip service to the development of Mindanao. We have already witnessed the devastating effect of such neglect on our population.
All indications point out that Mindanao is on the verge of a takeoff. We have to consolidate our gains and to maintain the momentum we have achieved in recent years. But much will depend on the choices that we will make, both in our careers and in our political involvement.
We can make the development of our island not a political accident but a primordial concern of the government. We can do this by choosing political leaders who openly sympathize with us and who commit themselves to fully support Mindanao’s development. We have the responsibility of ensuring that we no longer suffer the humiliation of being neglected but receive the priority we deserve.
The shared experience of underdevelopment has finally taught us that without binding ourselves together, without uniting to attain our common goal of prosperity for Mindanao, and without struggling for what we rightfully deserve, we will never be able to liberate ourselves from the yoke of backwardness. We cannot depend on others to wage our battles. If we cannot collectively commit ourselves to this cause, then nobody will.
Drawing Strength From Our Reserve
The history of Mindanao is replete with examples of individuals who shaped their destiny by their own hands. The determined struggle of our Islamic brothers against successive colonial powers in order to preserve their freedom, and the pioneering spirit of early settlers who braved the uncertainties of the future to give a better life for their children are some of these shining examples.
All of us here today have this pioneering tradition in our blood. I remember that two years after I graduated from the Ateneo de Manila, I chose to return to Mindanao. Back then, it was difficult to detect whether our historians did not make a mistake when they referred to the place as the “The Land of Promise”. The peace and order problem was serious, due to massive unrest among the populace; investors were coming in trickles and not in droves; and there was a pervasive feeling of pessimism among the people with regards to the future of the island.
Indeed, the prevailing situation is much different now. Most of our cities and countryside are no longer hounded by peace and order problems, our growth centers project an image of optimism attributable to a dynamic economic performance; and there is a widespread feeling of confidence about the future of the island. These factors together with the fact that we are at the early stage of our development, make the rewards for entrepreneurial activities in Mindanao higher than those obtaining in the other parts of the country. Jobs are much easier to find now, thanks to the continuous flow of investments here.
You are fortunate to be present at the dawning of a new day in Mindanao.
You are the cream of the crop of this island.
You have the training to work the fields of plenty and opportunities that have opened up.
But this privilege you now enjoy should be tempered by responsibility. Responsibility to work not only for your own private benefit, but, more important, for the development of the Mindanao community that nurtured you – the responsibility to be men and women for others. You have the obligation of ensuring that, in the new millennium, the promise of Mindanao is finally fulfilled.
Thank you and good day to you all!
Sexual Harassment on Campus: Perceptions and Experiences of Students in Selected Schools in Visayas and Mindanao
Introduction
The unnamed should not be taken for the non-existent Siege (1991)
A wolf whistle. A leer . A disconcerting nearness. A seemingly innocent touch on the breast. An invitation for a date from a professor whose subject the coed is in danger of flunking ,worse, an out right proposition for sex from said mentor and the implicit option: Kautro or kuarto?
The term ‘sexual harassment’ has recently emerged to describe a range of unpleasant experience long persisting but without a name. Women have been molded in a culture of silence where open discussions of sexual harassment is deemed embarrassing and could even raise speculation on one’s integrity and womanhood. Sexual harassment is tied up with lack of awareness of their right and on womens innate nature as “secret sufferers”, “muzzled moaners”, often afraid to speak out (Luciano, 1994).
But the issue cannot be hushed for so long . The women’s movement has urged that this seemingly personal experience of almost every woman needs to be made public so that the politics context and implications can be better understood and more effectively confronted. Discussions on the issue in the mass media revealed how real and pervasive the problem is. First, in the Anita Hill case in the United State and in the local scene, the controversial “kissing Lolo” case at the Commission on Election and, in the academe, the much-talked about cases of Professors Salvador Carlos and Juan Tapales at the state university, U.P. in Diliman.
The Women Studies Association of the Philippines, an association with membership of over 100 schools all over the country, has embarked on a project entitled “Participatory Research on Sexual Harassment and School-based Feminist Counseling in Selected Schools in Visayas and Mindanao: as part of its efforts towards a gender-fair education in general. Specifically this study which is a major components of the project aims to conduct a systematic investigation on women’s perceptions and experience towards clarifying WSAP’s specific recommendation on the issue.
This is a one-year collaborative project of selected schools affiliated with WSAP Visayas and Mindanao. Overall, the project aims to mobilize the capability of women’s studies programs in their respective member schools.
Essentially, this project involves three major components:
a) WSAP network assemblies and fora to clarify the project at the start and to share findings and recommendations at the end of the project.
b) Participatory action research for a deeper understanding of sexual harassment and other emerging gender issues in the campuses; and
c) Feminist counseling training and services to woman students, faculty and personnel as an initial support service.
Background of the study
Women’s Studies in the Philippines has grown from a core of nine schools in Metro Manila in 1987 to more than 100 schools all over the country in 1995. Gender sensitivity training (GST), teachers training on integrating gender perspective in curriculum, and module development of materials for teaching gender in eight disciplinal areas of the curriculum have been most helpful project undertaken with DIWATA’s support.
Despite these efforts, most women’s studies advocates and practitioners are a minority, and sometimes a marginalized sector in their respective schools with little or no institutional support. Majority need strengthening and support in terms of being further equipped with feminist perspectives, skills and support services to respond to the gender needs and issues unfolding before them.
In the region, the effort at gender sensitization among the teachers and students uncover deeper gender problems and issue affecting teaching and learning. These include issues of sexual harassment , teen-age pregnancy among students and other various aspects of gender and sexuality issues especially among female students, faculty and staff in their personal and family relationship, as well as in their work relationship with each other. These issues need urgent response and support from the womens studies programs of these schools.
Sexual harassment is a vaguely defined and understood gender issue, more so as a form of violence against women. Its non-recognition as a violation of women’s rights can be attributed to the lack of gender awareness and sensitivity among most Filipino women, even among the schooled Patriarchal Filipino culture blurs women’s perception of the practices of sexual harassment.
The lack of clear definition and public policies on sexual harassment is indicative of the grave lack of understanding and action on this issue. There is therefore a need for a systematic investigation on women’s perceptions and experiences on sexual harassment towards clarifying WSAP’s specific recommendations on the issue. Initial research efforts have been undertaken by the University of the Philippines in Quezon City. A regional view is important in having a more representative picture of the problem.
While this research was being undertaken, support services had to be simultaneously organized. There have been reported school-based cases of sexual harassment and gender-based issues among students and faculty requiring feminist counseling intervention and related services. Such support services are important components of a gender-responsive women’s studies programs.
Objectives of the Study
This study aimed to probe deeper into the issue of sexual harassment in the campus both as a concept and a reality and recommend ways of addressing the issue. Thus, in general, it investigated the perceptions and experiences of sexual harassment and other gender issues affecting students in selected Visayas and Mindanao schools for a more representative view of the issue and to evolve a more comprehensive response to it. Specifically, it sought to attain the following objectives:
1. To surface the incidence and forms of sexual harassment experienced by students in selected Visayas and Mindanao schools.
2. To elicit suggestions to guide formulations of policy recommendations and corrective mechanisms to address the problem of sexual harassment in the academe.
Scope and Limitations
Five schools in the tertiary levels in Visayas and Mindanao participated in the study. These WSAP member-schools are UP-Visayas in Iloilo, West Visayas State University (WVSU) and Siliman University, Dumaguete City in the Visayas and Ateneo de Davao and Western Mindanao State University (WMSU) in Zamboanga City for Mindanao. UP Visayas, WVSU and WMSU are state run educational institutions while Siliman University and Ateneo de Davao are private secular schools.
The study was conducted from August 1994 to July 1995.
Research Methodology
This research consciously employed feminist participatory research method. The nature of the problem lent itself more appropriately to qualitative method which requires probing discussions of experiences, of feelings and thoughts. Sexual harassment is an issue not openly discussed in public. Most often, victims are reluctant to reveal their ordeal, nor name their harassers so a study on this subject matter need to be preceded by preparatory activities. More than just a study to gather empirical data on the issue of sexual harassment in the campus, this research sought to foster awareness and raise consciousness of the members of the academic community regarding this problem. Thus,several parallel activities were undertaken prior and after actual data gathering by survey.
At the UP-Visayas, two fora were held, one in UP-Miag-ao and another in UP-Iloilo Campus in November 29, 1994. These were co-sponsored by the UPV Women’s Desk and the Scintilla Juris Fraternity, a student organization. Classroom orientations on the subject were conducted at the Siliman University. Twenty classes were covered.
At the WVSU, a forum was held on the subject supplemented by discussion groups and classroom discussions.
A forum entitled “Speak Out, Speak Up” was sponsored by the Communication Arts students of Ateneo de Davao. Likewise, a symposium on Sexual Harassment was sponsored by the sociology class. In both fora, students from other colleges/department attended.
At the WMSU meanwhile, four fora were held in February, 1995. With the joint sponsorship of WSAP Mindanao and the Office of Student Affairs, the fora drew in a total of 445 participants from six colleges of WMSU.
Posters on sexual harassment were posted all over the campus of said schools during the period of study to help raise awareness of the issue and to elicit interest on the public fora being held.
More in-depth discussions and exchange of ideas were made possible with the conduct of focused group discussion (FGDs) in all the aforementioned pilot schools.
Several students who experienced sexual harassment narrated their ordeal and sought counseling. Some of these critical incidents are appended in the study as illustrative examples although for reasons of ethics and confidentiality, their names and those of harassers have been disguised.
Researchers made use of a survey questionnaire patterned after the Diliman Study on Sexual Harassment, 1994 and used with the permission from Prof. Rosalinda Pineda Ofreneo to solicit the information required for the study. Minor changes have been made by the researchers to suit the particular needs/circumstances of their respective schools.
Purposive sampling was used in all researches conducted in participating schools. The usual procedure followed was after the forum, students were invited to participate in the survey and only those who volunteered to answer were included. Participants to the FGD were taken from those who responded positively to the question as their willingness to join such discussion.
While only students were taken as respondents in the survey, the FGDs conducted drew more representative samples from the academic community and were composed of students, faculty members (both males and females) and administrators.
Research Findings
Ginhimuslan!
Natsansingan!
By whatever term it is called, sexual harassment is very much evident or a reality in many women’s lives. A number of women have complained of disconcerting experiences which affront their dignity as a person. Until recently. such experiences are not discussed at all or if ever, only talked about in hushed whispers. Victims dare not speak about it in bewilderment, much less complain or name their attackers.
As defined, “unwanted sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal, non-verbal or physical conduct of sexual nature constitute harassment when (1) submission to such conduct is made either explicitly or implicitly a term or condition of an individual’s employment or academic advancement; (2) submission or rejection of such conduct by an individual is used as a basis for employment or academic decisions; (3) conduct interferes with individual work or academic performance or creates an intimidating, hostile or offensive environment. (U.P. Diliman Questionnaire on Sexual Harassment, 1994).
Any sexual behavior or act that is unwanted or uncalled for, short of grave physical assault such as rape is sexual harassment. It makes the victim feel “uncomfortable, embarrassed, compromised or ill at ease.” Most of the time, the harasser is a male or a group of males, or in the workplace, somebody in a position of authority, or in the school campus, usually a professor or a fellow student. (UCWS Primer on Sexual Harassment, 1994).
As classified, there are two broad types and forms of sexual harassment. These are:
a. Sexual coercion – an act which has direct consequence to the workers’ employment status, of gain or loss of job benefits, as when a supervisor using his power over matters such as salary promotion, training and promotion itself attempts to cause a subordinate to grant sexual favors.
b. Sexual annoyance – an act which has no direct relation to job benefits or harm but creates a hostile, intimidating and bothersome work environment.
(Bureau of Women and Young Workers Flyer, 1992)
In the academe, sexual, coercion is directly related to granting or withholding of academic action (e.g. passing grades, scholarship) in exchange for sexual favors, usually by a professor or teacher to a student.
Sexual annoyance meanwhile does not involve such a quid pro quo situation but nevertheless makes the academe an unhealthy climate for educational pursuit. Vexations made by students against fellow students is an example of sexual annoyance.
This issue of sexual harassment is basically about power relations and not about sex. It is, in a strict sense, a form of misuse of power or authority over another, using sexuality as a means to achieve it.
Sexual harassment is the abuse of the social and economic power that hold over women. “When men use their power to treat women sexually in a non-sexual context, they interfere with women’s right to work, to learn, to walk on the street without fear and to be treated as equal and respected participants in public life. Like other kinds of women abuse, sexual harassment both reflects and reinforce women’s unequal position in our society. (University of Toronto, 1993).
Analyses of incidents of sexual harassment indicate that it is one way by which the harasser shows his power or dominance over the harassed person. Because of the manner by which society defines the role of the women and men, the majority of the victims are women while the majority of the harassers are men. Boys are trained to be strong, to initiate action, to be aggressive, dominating and controlling relationships. On the other hand, girls are taught to be obedient, docile and attentive to the needs of men. Society expects them to continue this passive attitude and dependent stance up to adulthood.
A teacher-student relationship has essentially all the trappings of power or authority relations. Thus, female students fall prey to the sexual harassment committed by the male professors who use their position of authority to force students to submit to these advances and to stay quiet for fear of repercussions in their academic standing. This abuse of power structure can range from seemingly innocent brushing of bodies, to sexually suggestive remarks, to blatant negotiations for sexual favors in exchange for grades or promotion.
Victims of sexual harassment, who are mostly women, are most often hesitant to pursue any action against the harasser. Shame, guilt or fear of losing job, or not getting a promotion or in the case of students, failing a course, are basically clear indications of power play or imbalance in the power structure.
This reluctance or refusal to confront the sexual harassment incident has grave psychological and socio-economic costs. Victims are often swamped with feelings of shame, anger and humiliation. Many feel afraid, helpless and alone, even guilty as they struggle to be from the unpleasant experience. Among students there could be a loss of self-confidence. Their intellectual development can be badly affected as they suffer from confusion, doubts and distrust in the teacher concerned. (UCWS Primer)
Since most schools do not have clear policies on sexual harassment, many victims are in the dark on how best to bring up the issue. Some manage to move to another institution while others keep quiet. This does not at all solve the problem and even encourages the perpetrators to continue their behavior.
Incidence of Harassment
Knowing the nature of phenomenon, it is difficult to ascertain the extent and degree of sexual harassment incidents even in the campuses under study.
However, figures cited are indicative of the gravity of the problem. Of the 574 students in the five schools who responded to the survey, 317 or 55.23% professed to have experienced sexual harassment on campus. As explained in the methodology, the study utilized purposive sampling. Only students who participated in the fora held and who were willing to respond to the questionnaire were sampled. Understandably, most of the respondents have “a story to tell.” However, this does not alter the fact established that the danger of sexual harassment lurks in school campuses and that this has been experienced by many students in varying forms and guises as will be discussed in the following pages.
Range of Experiences
The most common forms of sexual harassment experienced by the students in the order reported are:
1. Leering, peeping, whistling, following or making sexually suggestive gestures
2. Unwanted physical contact (e.g. unnecessary touching, patting, pinching, squeezing, grabbing, placing hand or arm over one’s shoulder, brushing against one’s body)
3. Suggestive remarks, innuendos or lewd comments and jokes, graphic commentaries on one’s body
4. Offensive flirtations
5. Display of pornographic pictures
Not as prevalent but cited just the same are the following forms of harassment list in descending order of incidence reported.
1. Unwelcome sexual advances (kissing, embracing, touching private parts, invading one’s “space” by leering over or cornering …)
2. Propositions or pressures for sexual activity, usually accompanied by a promise or threat
3. Continued suggestions for social activity outside the school after it has been made clear such suggestions are unwelcome
4. Display of private parts (exhibitionism)
5. Outright sexual assault, molestation, rape
These situations not only happen between men as harassers and women, mostly, but also men as victims, whether between peer groups or between persons of authority and persons, especially women, in lower position of authority.
Unlike an ordinary stare, there are malicious stare (panulok nga may malisya) which makes the object of staring feel uncomfortable or uneasy (panulok nga nagalapos o ,inaubahan ang babaye), or which threatens to strike a person down like a snake (daw matukob nga panulok). Some male students however in one FGD complained, “ta mira lang gane“, perplexed that just a look could cause discomfiture. In graphic Chavacano, a female respondent complained of boys who stare hard at her, ” daw pwede ya makaprinyada“, (as if enough to make one pregnant).
Verbal remarks with sexual innuendos: Students report these situations to happen even inside the classrooms, between students and teachers, in informal bantering as well as academic discussions. The sexual innuendo is described as ‘palabtik nga may malisya‘ or ‘hutik nga may malisya‘ or simply kabastusan. Vulgar tirades are usually directed at the students. Reported were such verbal repartees as:
A point blank question of “Are you still a virgin?” asked by a male teacher to a coed.
Non-sensical questions asked by a male teacher in his social science class, “Is there politics in the vagina?”; “What is the relation of penis to power?”
Items in a history exam: “Did Spanish colonization permit masturbation and communal bathing practices?”
Remarks after hearing an unsatisfactory recitation of a male student; “If you are not good inside, you must be good outside in other things” (sexual connotation).
“How long do you come up?” Asked the male teacher to a male freshman. The student replied ” Twenty minutes from the dorm to the CAS building”. Teacher’s retort, “Gago! How long do you ejaculate?”
Male teacher to coed: “Kanami magdala sang bayo; kanami sang buli“. (You carry your dress well; you have nice buttocks).
A male teacher assigned his male students to individually report to class the measurement of their penis.
Some faculty members force their students to utter words on sex even if they are not comfortable saying them. Some teachers discuss sex even if it is not within the context of subject matter.
In humanities classes, art works displaying female nudes are exhibited and discussed. Male classmates give unpleasant remarks on female anatomy and jeer at their female classmates during these sessions.
In a swimming class, a male P.E. teacher embarrasses a flat-chested female student in bathing suit with a remark: “How come your front looks like an ironing board?”
On the first meeting of a class, a male professor was introducing his subject, presenting expectations and class requirement. To illustrate a point, he asked a student, “Do you know what masturbation is? Can you show it to the class?”
The word ,coined from “chance” describes a range of behavior more vexing than “making a pass”. It includes apparently innocent brushes or touch through the objects of such action could feel an unmistakable sexual overtone.
Examples are:
In a P.E. swimming class, the male instructor touches students in unlikely parts such as the buttocks.
A male teacher in a computer class forcibly kissed female students and touched their private parts while ‘looking over’ their computer work.
Freshmen students are made to line up in the nude during their physical examination.
A male faculty member “read” a female student’s palm and coaxed her, “Say I love you kon kabalo ka man mag love sang pareho mo.; Hambala bi…” (Say I love you if you really know how to love others. Try saying it). When the student obeyed saying, “Sir, I love you”, he tried to kiss her.
A female security guard posted at the university entrance gate touches female students’ private parts in the guise of frisking. She does this selectively to pretty students.
Profile of Harassers
Based on the survey, majority of harassers are related to the victims either as classmates, schoolmates, friends boyfriends, board mates or suitors/date. A significant number of reported cases fall in the category of sexual annoyance such as:
A group of male students make catcalls or wolf whistles and publicly rate each passing coed with such remarks as: “Wow legs! Pare, boobs! Ay pangit!”
Intentional pushing/shoving to touch breast, legs or buttocks of female classmates.
Passing around nude pictures as in ‘Playboy’ magazine.
Gays are often subject of ridiculing remarks and obscene jeers.
Female students changing to P.E. uniform are the subject of “pamboboso” or peeping.
Interestingly, male students profess uncertainty and confusion on the issue of sexual harassment. Among questions/remarks expressed during the forum and FGDs were:
We live in a democratic country. Whistling is just a way of expressing our admiration for girls. Don’t they like to be appreciated?
Sometimes, girls just pretend that they do not like to be looked at, or touched, or kissed. Actually, they like it, “hele-hele bago quirre!”
The definition of sexual harassment is not clear. How do we validate a girl’s allegation that she has been harassed? She may complain of sexual harassment when actually, she was just tapped on the shoulder and she did not like it. She may think it is malicious but the doer of the act has no such intention . So, this is my question :” How can a boy know that he has committed sexual harassment ?”
The above comments and questions express the male students apparent bewilderment on the issue of sexual harassment. Assuming their genuine befuddlement, there is a clear need to focus on gender relations among classmates/schoolmates. Male students disclaim that they do not have the intention to harass their schoolmates in doing such acts as whistling or telling green jokes but were quite so used to doing it not thinking of consequent hurt or vexations on the part of the victims . Cases which involve both students, persons of seemingly similar status illustrate how gender itself plays a power element in peer relationship. Male teachers oppress their female colleagues on the basis of the latter’s looks and on the account of their being female.
The study also unearthed a number of cases wherein the identified harassers are the boyfriend/dates of the victims, like facing forcing their girlfriends/dates to yield to kisses, embraces, or submit to such acts as necking, petting and even intercourse.
Of course, there were reported cases of sexual harassment – both sexual coercion and annoyance -perpetuated mostly by male faculty with such acts ranging from relatively mild sexist jokes in the classroom to outright sexual proposition or assault.
Shielded by their anonymity in answering the questionnaire, a number of students reported of cases of sexual harassment by teachers. But generally , students are hesitant in sharing their experience and in naming their harassers. During the fora, they are keen to inquire on the “guarantees” they will get against retaliatory action by their harassers should they decide to come out and file a complaint after the forum, a few dared to identify their harassers confidentially with the schools guidance counsellor.
The study conducted in five pilot schools indicated the identified male faculty harassers seems to be just a handful but their behavior affects a significant number of students Their presence disturb the learning environment in the campus and cause untold difficulties for many people. Some drop out or change classes after experiencing harassment but generally, students suffer in silence or just avoid the teachers presence or circumstances where they would be alone with said teachers.
The Victims
The victims of harassment are mostly female students though there are reported cases of young male undergraduate students victimized by gay teachers. Several female faculty members likewise experienced harassment from their male colleagues.
One incident with a female university faculty as harasser was mentioned. This was the case of a single, middle-aged female teachers who was reported to harass a male college freshman with effeminate ways, perhaps a case of homophobia expressed through hostile behavior towards a gay student.
The incident happened at a forum where the professor served as one of the resource persons. She delved into homosexuality which was completely out of topic in the discussion. She approached a male student sitting infront and asked him to say something on the microphone. But the boy just bowed his head and kept quiet. To the persistent coaxing of the teacher, the boy asked, “Ma’am, what will I say?” She laughed and sashaying in front of the audience remarked, “See, that’s how these homosexuals are!”
Among colleagues of similar status, acts of harassment often take the disguise of jokes or “witty” remarks. Others complained of patronizing or condescending comments. Some illustrative examples are :
Over lunch, a male faculty member commented to a female colleague who was recently appointed to a high position: “Perhaps, you were chosen because you have nice legs!”
A recently widowed female faculty member came up to the faculty room nicely dressed, coiffed and made-up. A male colleague cattily remarked, “Uy, nagpapaganda ang biyuda. Available na uli!”
Often, objects of such insensitive remarks and merciless remarks and teasing are unmarried female faculty members or graduate students labelled sexistly as “spinsters”, or even nuns or lay persons with religious vows. One reported repartee went this way:
In a graduate class the male faculty member was discussing the term “atrophy”. After defining the term, he illustrated that parts of the body may atrophy after a long period of disuse. Then, turning’ to a nun, he asked, “What part of your body has atrophied?”
Circumstances: Places and Witnesses
Consistent with the most frequent types of sexual harassment experienced {i.e (1) leering, peeping, whistling… (2) unwanted physical contacts (3) suggestive remarks (4) offensive flirtations and (5) display of pornographic pictures}, most reported incidents occurred in the presence of schoolmates or friends. The more vicious forms of vexations understandably occur when no other person was present, except the victim and the harasser.
Indicative of the total lack of understanding and appreciation of the gravity of the offense is the fact that such incidences happen everywhere in campus in full view of other people, specially in public places as enclosed courts, classrooms, social halls, in corridors or covered walks, in the schools’ parking lots and in other places where outside school activities are held. These places have been identified in the five schools surveyed to be places where various forms of sexual harassment occur.
The covered court for instance, where school activities are usually held provide venue and opportunity for “chancing” or apparently unintentional body contacts. The crowd and the dim lights during such activities provide anonymity and convenience for harassers.
Among reported cases of sexual harassment perpetrated by male faculty members, the more serious offenses of unwelcome sexual advances , offensive flirtations and propositions or pressure for sexual activity occur in the faculty lounge, consultation rooms and other relatively isolated or private rooms.
In one FGD held, it was revealed that sexual harassment can and do occur in the consultation room which is a big area with half-length cubicles where only heads and feet of persons inside may be seen. In faculty rooms, meanwhile, normally off-limits to students, coeds who are allowed inside may be subjected to sexual harassment in the form of sexual innuendos or outright propositions when they inquire about their grades or report for an assignment.
In one school, a female student who requested for a make-up exam as she failed to get the mid-term was told to get such exam at 5:00 in the morning in the faculty room. Though perplexed by this schedule, she nevertheless complied. While taking the test, she felt the hands of her teacher holding her hand, ostensibly guiding her in writing the answer. Then, he started embracing her. The girl shouted for help. Luckily, a security guard was nearby.
The Victims’ Feelings and Reactions
Queried about how they felt at the same time of harassment, most reported mixed feelings of frustration, anger, fear and shame dominated by a sense of helplessness. Other reported feelings are coldness and rigidity, “dirtied/ violated”, and “slightly uncomfortable”. Not a few however remarked that they did not feel anything or “thought it was normal”. In a few cases, several respondents (3 females and 12 males) said they actually enjoyed the experience. On the extreme, some expressed revenge in mind.
Most common reaction to harassment at the time of occurrence is “doing nothing” or “walking away”. There were isolated incidents of several victims resisting “with physical force” as in WMSU where one wrote the response “I punched him in the eye”. Other reported reactions are “looking with tiger eyes” and “laughed along with them.”
Still, majority of the victims did not have the courage to tell the harasser to stop, much more retaliate with physical force implying that there is a need for students to be more aware of their rights and assert that such rights be respected.
Effects on Victims
It is apparent that the immediate psycho-social costs are the humiliation, the loss of self-esteem and confusion on the part of the victims. The academic performance of those who experienced harassment specially from their teachers is most often, adversely affected.
In Siliman University, to illustrate, the following effects on victims are reported: psychological impact like stress, frustration, strong feeling for revenge, physical ailments such as stomach aches, headaches, nausea, involuntary muscular spasm, insomnia and hypertension and psychological depression as despair. Clearly, the tolls of harassment are not only psychological but physical, economic too, as some students drop out the course/s or quit studying altogether or
transfer to other schools to avoid harassment.
Most respondents who have suffered from various forms of sexual harassment believe that the lack of information/ knowledge/ consciousness of sexual harassment on campus and the lack of clear policies/rules/ procedures on the matter, the influence of alcohol and drugs and unequal gender relation in that order are the factors largely relevant to being sexually harassed.
Other reasons cited in descending order are: the harasser’s position in power and authority over the victim, opportunities provided by time, place and isolation and “uncontrolled urges”. Likewise cited are societal values, prevailing attitude of males towards female and “our (females). acceptance that such acts are just natural/ normal, palibhasa lalaki.”
Power relations as a factor in sexual harassment is clearer to the victims than to the harasser. Female students are aware that it is their position of weakness, their inability to fight back or simple refusal to take retaliatory action due to shame or guilt, that encourage the harasser to persist in his behavior. In one FGD, the girls said that it is “makaulaw” (shameful) to complain and thus, call attention to the incidence.
In the FGDs conducted, other factors cited related to being, sexually harassed are “physical appearance/ wearing of sexy or provocative clothes” and “coming home late at night”. Male FGD participants rationalized that wearing sexy clothes and coming home late at night are “come hither” actions.
Societal values, were likewise cited as contributory to sexual harassment incidences. As explained in one FGD, the prevailing culture of machismo and the differing socialization process for boys and girls shape the roles assigned to them. The cultivation of a macho image- a dominant, aggressive and powerful behavior for the males and the “feminine ideal” of being beautiful, submissive, pliant and weak- the “brave knight out to save a damsel in distress”- is continuously being fostered by the media.
Victims of harassment either keep quiet about the incidence or confide mostly to a friend. Very rarely do they report to their teacher, the administrators, or even their parents. In Siliman, only 3.3% of the cases were reported to authorities while at the WMSU, it was noted that none of the respondents who experienced harassment reported to the school counsellor or the Office of the Dean of Student Affairs which has jurisdiction over problems on student discipline.
In the critical incident report cited in this study (The case of Susan), it was the father of the victim who reported the incident to the DSA. In two cases, complaint was made directly to the police.
The victims who confided to a friend/friends said they did so to help others become aware of this problem, warn them to be more cautious and likewise, to “ease the shame and pain”. They find it more comfortable to share with peers, rather than with their parents. More often, such sharings of confidences yield commonality of experience. At times, the identified harasser is likewise the same person who menaced the friend to whom the victim is confiding!
Teachers are not considered worthy confidants in sexual harassment cases. In a cited case, one who reported an incidence to the teacher was just advised to avoid the classmate pestering her.
Aside from confiding to peers, majority choose not to complain, lest of all, officially to school authorities. The victims did not report for the following reasons: avoidance of scandal, too much hassle, lack of set of procedures for handling such cases, shame/embarrassment, fear of reprisal/ not being believed and even pity/concern for the harasser whose career may be ruined. A few remarked “its not serious enough”. One said, “I did not know I was already being harassed”.
In general, the respondents who experienced harassment are still able to contain their feelings about their experiences and accept them as part of life. Some do not even see themselves as victims. Still some realize belatedly that indeed, they have been unduly taken advantage of.
Knowledge of other Victims of Sexual Harassment
In the Siliman study, 50.8% of the respondents averred that they know of schoolmates who have been victims of sexual harassment in campus. At the WMSU, 23.5% of the respondents claimed that they know of others who have been harassed in campus. Compared to forms of harassment personally experienced by the respondents, the reported cases heard or they personally know about are more serious -physical, rather than verbal or visual, unwanted physical contacts, unwelcome sexual advances, proposition or pressures for sexual activity, display of private part (exhibitionism), even outright sexual assaults, molestations and rape. Such allegations must be probed deeper as the study may not have sufficiently uncovered the seriousness of the situation. In this regard however, researchers express this reservation: The traditional scholar may insist on empirical proofs, on figures and statistics, even statistical tests to substantiate assertions made in this research. However, how can the intensity of a phenomenon like sexual harassment in campus, long ignored and swept in the rugs though acknowledged to exist, be described or measured? One or one hundred is immaterial. One student harassed is one too many.
As in those cases directly experienced, cases which respondents only heard or have personal knowledge of having female students as victims and are largely unreported to authorities.
Whether sexual harassment is considered a problem in their school
To this question, Siliman respondents were unanimous (100%) in the affirmative answer. At WMSU, plurality (40.5%) considered it so while 32.7% said no or “not yet”; 25.5% are undecided. While no such direct question was asked of respondents in other schools under the study, it can be gleaned from the discussion that sexual harassment in campus needs to be addressed with more concrete actions and definitive policies.
Most answer given to this question in the questionnaire as well as in FGDs were the actions recommended by the panelist or resource persons in the fora held: “tell harasser directly that you do not like what he/she is doing; seek advice, counselling and support and report the incident and file a complaint with proper authorities.”
Sexual Harassment Experienced Outside the Campus
While the research focused on sexual harassment on campus, efforts were likewise made to gather data on such vexations outside the school. Violence is endemic in the life of the woman. Woman’s life is always accompanied by some forms of violence, physical, sexual, or mental and verbal abuse, sexual harassment, wife battering and rape (Luciano, 1994). This observation is validated in the data gathered in the five schools under study.
To the question, of “have you been sexually harassed outside the school?”, 30.7% of 140 respondents in WMSU answered affirmatively; majority in WVSU and 46.4% at the Ateneo de Davao likewise responded “yes” to the question. While no figures are cited at the Ateneo de Davao and UP-V studies, it can be gleaned from discussions that sexual harassment outside the school are very evident.
The streets, jeepneys, movie houses, boarding houses, discos,beach resorts and other public places are not safe for women where they are subjected to such indignities as leering, wolf whistling, being touched at breast, legs and buttocks and become objects of voyeurs and exhibitionists.
What is disturbing are some reports of serious cases of molestations such as “being molested by stepfather”, “boyfriend persisted in petting despite my objections”, “co-boarder propositioned for sex” and “doctor conducted internal genital examination without gloves”.
These incidents mirror the gender imbalance and persecution suffered by women in larger society. The school should address these issues not only those cases happening in school. Victims of sexual harassment inside or outside the campus must be helped.
In all the pilot schools studied, researchers claimed that existing administrative mechanisms or bodies, policies, rules and regulations do not adequately address the problem of sexual harassment. This is apparent from the response given that the leading factor perceived to be related to the incidents is lack of clear policies, rules or procedures on the matter.
Illustrative of the schools’ response to sexual harassment cases are the following critical incident reports:
The Case of Susan
(Account of this incidence is based on the interview with the father of Susan who is a faculty member of school X. To protect the identity of some persons, assumed names. have been used in the narration.)
Susan, a student of the College of Education usually takes her lunch with her father in the latter’s room. On that particular day in October 1994 at about 12:00 noon, she was walking with a friend to join her father for lunch when she passed by a group of male students. One of these students called out to her “Hoy, pangit! Pangit!” while the others laughed. Susan confronted the group and said, “Why, did I ever say that I’m pretty?” But as she turned to walk away, the same student again shouted at her “Pangit!” Angered,
Susan again confronted the group focusing on the boy who persisted in taunting her. But as she was protesting his catcalls, he slapped her hard on the face. This was in full view of many students.
Crying, Susan ran to her father’s room and reported what happened. Her father Prof. Veracruz, wasted no time. He hurriedly went to the Security Unit and asked the security guards to accost the student who slapped her daughter.
Two security guards accompanied him. On their way, they were met by the same male student who appeared unrepentant, even arrogant. To Prof. Veracruz’ surprise, the two security guards did not make any attempt to get the boy but just talked with him. After a brief exchange of words, the boy walked away but even left some threatening words.
Prof. Veracruz then brought Susan to the University’s Medical Officer. By this time, her cheeks had swollen and turned reddish. After explaining what happened, Prof. Veracruz requested Dr. Pablo to issue a medical certificate. However, the Doctor refused saying the girl should be brought to the medico-legal officer. No amount of explanation from Prof. Veracruz could make Dr. Pablo change his mind.
After taking their delayed lunch, Prof. Veracruz brought Susan to another doctor. But at 3:00 PM, the swelling in her cheeks has subsided and except for a slight reddening, no trace of injury was noted in her medical certificate. Prof. Veracruz then filed a complaint to the Police Station. Upon inquiry, it was found out that the harasser was a student from Jolo, who was a returning student after having stopped for two years from the College of Nursing.
In the school, the case of Susan was brought before the Dean of Student Affairs.The Dean, Mr. Rivera called on the students involved in the case and their parents, the Deans of the College of Education and Nursing and the witnesses.
The harasser was accompanied by his aunt. Prof. Veracruz noted how the OIC of the College of Nursing tried to shift the blame on his daughter. “Kasi siguro mataray ka, e napahiya si X“.
After several hearings, the boy was meted one week suspension. Prof. Veracruz protested this citing that in the University Student Handbook, among the offenses punishable by one-year suspension is “4. Lifting a hand on a fellow student or hitting him with anything that hurts.” He filed a request to the University President to reconsider the decision. In the meantime, the criminal case of slander by deed was filed by a Fiscal.
As the accused refused to answer the summons nor appear at the preliminary hearings, a warrant of arrest was issued to him.
Susan Veracruz’ case remains unresolved to date. The boy did not enroll in the second semester of 1994-95. But as gathered, even before the slapping incident, the boy’s performance in class had been very poor and his dropping out could not solely be attributed to the incident.
The Case of the “Chancing” Computer Teacher
This is a case of sexual harassment filed by a female undergraduate student (Student A) against a male teacher (Mr. X) in the College of Management.
A is a student who had to work on some course paper she needed to submit that day. Mr. X, a computer teacher, offered in a fatherly tone to assist her. When they were in a computer room, Mr. X locked the room, and opened the locker by the door to block people entering. The conversation ran this way.
Mr. X: “B…, kiss ko.” (I’ll get my kiss.)
Student A: “Indi ko, sir! Indi ko sir!” (No sir! No sir)
Mr. X: “Ngaa Indi ka haw? Baho ako haw sigarilyo?”
(Why don’t you like it? Do I smell of cigarette?)
He then kissed her on the mouth . . . Somebody knocked.
Mr. X: “Sige na lang, stay as sweet as you are to your boyfriend.”
Student A told her boyfriend, a co-student, who encouraged her to file a complaint with the school authorities. They eventually told classmates who gave them moral support. In response, the College Student Council pushed for the ouster of the harassing faculty from the school.
Some faculty members helped student A when she reported the incident. During the faculty deliberation, some faculty members were surprised at the complaint considering that the harasser, a male colleague, seems an unlikely harasser. He seems to be very pleasant and friendly person, solicitous to assist others and conscientious with his work. They expressed disbelief that this harassment act happened. It seemed unlikely because he seems happily married, has two teen-age daughters also enrolled in the university high school department, and is himself, a high school Parents-Teachers Association officer.
Further investigation was done on the erring faculty. Three more female students came forward with same complaint against Mr. X. He either made gestures of trying to kiss the students and touched their breasts from their back when they were working on the computer in his class. He also asked them to come to his house to check papers. It was further found out that he was dismissed from his former school of employment for similar offense. However, there was no formal complaint on his previous offenses hence these were not known to the university until this reported incident.
The case was hushed up although rumors circulated. The college faculty did not want a scandal in their college. They also considered the possible effects on the harasser’s daughters who are also high school students in the same campus. Instead of filing administrative charges, they simply reprimanded him and did not renew his employment contract.
Members of the university Women’s Desk reached out to the student and offered their support. The student informed the Women’s Desk members that her father wanted her to graduate first before they file charges against the suspect. Besides, the faculty member concerned had already been dismissed and they felt that the dismissal was enough sanction on the faculty member. The Women’s Desk did not act any further on the case except note it down for documentation purposes.
The Case of Professor Chick Boy
Cristina (not her real name) is a senior college student, about 5’2 in height, and approximately 102 lbs. in weight. Fair complexioned and with charming facial features, Cristina is a typical, soft spoken college student.
During the first semester of school year 1992-93, Cristina took a Philosophy course under Professor X. Although Cristina attended her class regularly, her performance was below average. Towards the end of the semester, Professor X, who is male and married, announced to the class about the possibility of increasing low marks by submitting extra requirements.
All the while, Cristina knew as well as her other classmates, about the characteristics of this professor, his antics and techniques, that earned him the title of “Chick Boy.
After a class meeting, Prof. X told Cristina to stay behind which she did. According to Cristina, she then started to be anxious, she anticipated something may happen to her.
The Professor informed her of her poor marks and encouraged her to improve her grade. She was instructed to go to his office after class hours to get the assignment, but was asked not to bring a companion. Knowing the “chick boy” background of the professor , Cristina brought her boyfriend to accompany her. However, the professor did not give the assignment but instead told her to come at another time. In the next class meeting, the professor confronted Cristina by saying, “Why did you bring somebody with you?” Cristina’s fear became more defined when he set another appointment with her. This time, the professor made it clear that she was not to bring a companion.
Cristina must be in dire need of that grade to risk herself. However, this time, she surreptitiously brought along a female friend. Cristina asked her friend to wait for her outside the professor’s office – some five to six meters away from the door.
The professor asked her to come in, ordered her to sit down and locked his office door. Professor X didn’t go back to his chair, (behind the desk) but instead sat infront her “Are you prepared to take the exams?” He extended his right hand towards the pocket of her shirt and said “What’s inside your pocket?” But his hand was directed towards her breasts. She then started to tremble. “Are you nervous?”, he continued to ask, but this time he gave her a “pinch in the cheek”. So Cristina gave an alibi, “Yes sir, I have a cold and I’m not yet ready.”
He must have noticed that Cristina was really scared. He asked her to come back for the exam after several days and led her towards the door. There, lie touched Cristina’s face and embraced her.
“I pushed him back,” Cristina said, “opened the door and left the room.” Hurriedly, she ran towards her companion and walked out of the building, crying. Her friend asked her some questions but she didn’t answer her immediately. She vowed never to go back to that office, resigned to receive whatever grade she may obtain from Professor X.
Cristina shared this incident with her other close friends. Like many other students, she didn’t report the incident to the University authorities. However, the Department Chair learned of it later and encouraged her to make a complaint with the College Dean against Prof. X’s abusive conduct, explaining that she should do it for the sake of other “would be victims.”
The Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences created a fact-finding committee. After a series of investigations, the Committee found that there was an abusive conduct on the part of the professor, that the incident really happened, and that the mere denial of the professor in the light of the student’s affidavit cannot be accepted. The Committee recommended that the professor resign as Department Head and be suspended for one year from the university . The University administration affirmed the Committee’s recommendations.
The next school year, Cristina is enjoying her internship program while professor X is “on leave.”
Implications of Study Findings
1. Sexual harassment is very much evident and a reality in the academe, affecting mostly female students though female faculty members and male students are not exempt.
2. A significant number of reported form of sexual harassment in campus fall in the category of sexual annoyance and are relatively “milder” like “leering, peeping, whistling”, “unwanted physical contact” and suggestive remarks, innuendos or lewd comments and jokes, graphic commentaries on one’s body.
This finding implies that power relationships do not strictly come into consideration in these cases, students being at par with other students. There is a need to focus on gender relations between the sexes. That several students reported that incidences like “whistling, leering, sexist jokes,” are “normal” and that they just felt slightly uncomfortable , even “laughed with them” or have accepted these as a way of life imply that they have not yet been sensitized to gender issues and in a way participated in their own victimization.
3. The more offensive and vicious forms of sexual harassment specially those falling under the category of sexual coercion are relatively less prevalent but are nevertheless reported to occur with some disturbing regularity. More cases under this type are reported as “heard” or not personally experienced by the respondents themselves.
4. Sexual harassment takes a great psycho-social toll on the victims; manifestations include psychological impact like stress, anxiety, fear, anger and depression and physical ailments such as stomach aches, headaches, nausea and spasm. This implies a need for proper management of victims. Counselling and other support system to victims of sexual harassment inside or outside the campus should be accessible.
5. It is very rare that students who experienced sexual harassment report the case or incidence to authorities like the classroom adviser or counsellor. Victims prefer to confide to their friends or peer groups. This implies that guidance counsellors should strengthen peer counselling program and provide peer counselling training to include skills in advising friends who are victims of sexual harassment.
6. The study established that existing policies, rules and regulations governing student discipline do not adequately address the problem of sexual harassment in campus and that there is inadequate/ineffective mechanisms to prevent said acts and penalize offenders. This situation is deemed a significant factor to continuing incidence of sexual harassment in campus.
7. Aside from lack of policies, structures and mechanisms in schools to address sexual harassment, other factors and circumstances related to the occurrence of sexual harassment are identified as gender relations, lack of information or knowledge on the matter, attitude of males towards females, the females’ passivity and tolerance of such acts and opportunities provided by time and place. Thus, while policies, structures and mechanisms are needed, it is more important that societal attitudes and perceptions regarding gender roles and relations be overhauled.
8. Consistent with the nature of the offense, less vicious SH cases especially those that fall under the case of sexual annoyance occur everywhere in campus: in the classrooms, in corridors, covered courts, parking lots or entrance gate in full view of other people.
Sexual coercion ranging from offensive flirtation to molestations happen in more private and secluded outright This implies the need for a study of physical rooms arrangements and structures like faculty lounge or counselling rooms that may provide opportunity for attackers to harass their victims.
Recommendations
In the rank order of frequency of citation, respondents in the five schools under study recommended the following actions to address the problem of sexual harassment in campus:
1. Formulate university policies, guidelines, to penalize or punish the harasser
2. Formulation of code of ethics that will govern the behavior of faculty toward students and student toward each other
3. Conduct information dissemination activities, seminars, fora and discussion
4. Encourage victims to report such incidents
5. Include gender sensitivity education in curriculum
6. Provide counselling services to student victims (to include victims of SH outside campus)
7. Encourage students to train in self-defense
8. Setting up of a hot line or desk/center where victims can go or seek assistance without being identified
The FGD yielded wider and more imaginative courses of action against sexual harassment such as:
1. On the sectoral level, student government and other student organizations should spearhead a campaign against sexual harassment. Strong student vigilance must be encouraged.
2. On the institutional level, a body such as a committee or desk specifically to handle SH cases should be established. It should be clad with sufficient authority to hear and decide such cases.
3. On the national level, values must be strengthened through societal institutions like the school and media. DECS should institutionalize gender sensitivity trainings for faculty members and administrators. GST should also be offered to other government officials and employees.
Concluding Statements
Many events have occurred during the period that this research was being undertaken. Among the positive results of media publicity on the issue are Civil Service Commission memorandum Circular No. 19 s. of 1994 dated May 31, 1994 providing for a Policy on Sexual Harassment in the Workplace, and Republic Act No. 7877 approved February 14, 1995 entitled An Act Declaring Sexual Harassment Unlawful in the Employment, Education or Training Environment, and for other Purposes. In the University of the Philippines, this led to the formulation of a policy and implementation guidelines on Sexual Harassment by the University Center for Women’s Studies and the eventual adoption of a Policy on Sexual Harassment. Formulation of such policy was attended by varied reactions and much debate reflective of the lack of common understanding on sexual harassment and the inadequate policy and support services in the University to address the problem.
Prior to this research, hard data is virtually non-existent to detail the extent and magnitude of the problem but society, specially the academe, cannot just be oblivious to the issue. Thus, the research has been most timely. The project was conceived before the issue of sexual harassment erupted and its implementation coincided with the peak media publicity of sexual harassment cases in various campuses in the Philippines, the most notorious cases of which are those of UP Diliman’s. Public awareness on the issue was heightened,. hence this facilitated eliciting the positive response from administrators of WSAP member-schools.
Making public the issue has catalyzed public awareness, and policy sensitivity to this problem. The legislations and administrative issuances on the matter have made the personal experience of countless women a political issue.
A lot more need to be done. Despite RA 7877 and the schools’ policy pronouncements, effective implementation cannot instantly come about without vigilance and organized action.
Gender sensitivity trainings with administrators, faculty and students should be promoted so that non-sexist and gender-fair learning and work environment is sustained. The issue of sexual harassment has to be fully understood, not just as isolated acts of ‘individuals but as something endemic in a patriarchal culture. Aside from efforts from the academe, the influence of the family, religion, mass media, business and other social institutions should also be targetted for advocacy and transformation.
Celebrating the Power of the Displaced (Or, how the displaced created and re-created communities in the conflict areas of Mindanao)
Claiming that displaced persons are in possession of power may be viewed as naive and presumptuous. I invite you, however, to a reflection on the discourse of the internally displaced persons (IDPs) as I offer a description of repeated forced migrations, and on the persistence of displaced communities in creating and recreating
their communities through the years of continuing armed conflicts in Mindanao. In the process, I will take a critical assessment of the horrendous cost of the armed conflicts and its resulting displacements without losing sight of the historical capacity of displaced communities to deal with their condition.
To start with, this paper will tackle the discourse of the bakwits, the Mindanao Idiom closely resembling the IDP category. I will comment on some views that project the bakwits as if they are people without history by following the 32-year experience of repeated evacuations, returns, and rebuilding of the bakwits from Buliok and its surrounding communities in Central Mindanao.
The paper will also take a glimpse of new movements undertaken by displaced persons, such as the establishment of “space for peace,” mass mobilizations that unleashed the “bakwit power,” and the bakwit’s involvement in the monitoring of ceasefire agreements signed by armed groups. Finally the paper argues for a re-understanding of the dominant images of the bakwits, and suggest the idea of solidarity over aid and the possibilities of harnessing the power of the displaced in peace advocacy. I highlight the capacities of the displaced in recording their lives as an integral component in understanding the patterns of displacements and in the discussion of security issues. These capacities are often undermined, ignored, and forgotten from the time aid groups start with the distribution of first bags of relief goods to the design and construction of houses an community facilities.
I. The Bakwits
In many areas of Mindanao, IDP takes the idiom “bakwit,” a; category for persons displaced by calamities and armed conflicts. The, bakwit, as pronounced by different linguistic background, appropriates the English verb “evacuate.” Dictionaries of Philippine dialects note that the term bakwit (with spelling variations bakwit and bakwit) refers, to “evacuees, refugees” (Sullivan 1986, 76; Almario 2001, 81) and is used both as a verb and a noun. The term bakwit does not distinguish an IDP from the refugees defined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the United Nations Guidelines on Internally Displaced Persons (UNGPID). For this paper, I take the bakwit in reference to persons displaced by calamities and armed conflicts in Mindanao.
I frame this paper in the context of the armed conflicts and’ displacements over a thirty-year period as viewed by the bakwits, civil society and aid groups, and some of the war’s protagonists including members of government-backed paramilitary forces, former members of the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF), Army field commanders and some leaders of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), and 4 the literatures on the “Mindanao conflict.” The bakwits shared with 1, me their stories and photographs, their pains and joys in the course of I my seven-month fieldwork for an ethnography of the bakwits in certain evacuation sites and villages in the provinces of Maguindanao and North Cotabato.
As If A People Without History
Government and civil society literatures refer to the bakwits as people “denied of their rights to make choices and decisions for themselves and their community” due to the “recurring patterns of violence, deprivation and coercion” (Mindanao Peoples Caucus brochure). Some studies conclude that the displaced are “poor and uneducated” and that their “living conditions had further worsened and rendered dim their prospects of achieving better futures or, at least, regaining the kind of life and the pride and self-respect they used to have” (Notre Dame University with the Commission on Population January 2004, 54).
To address the bakwit situation, calls were issued for “human rights defenders, service providers, peace advocates, and the stakeholders themselves to take the main role in reclaiming the rights and dignity of the IDPs” (BALAY Primer on UNGPID), by “empowering communities through capacity building” (Tabang Mindanaw or Help Mindanao brochure; National Anti-Poverty Commission 2003 Report, 19-26; MEDCO, ARMM, UNDP, EC, September 2004).
Descriptions of the patterns of displacements in Mindanao tend to focus on forced migration events surrounding the major armed confrontations between the government and Morn rebel forces in 2000 and 2003, and were limited to the implications on women and children, needs assessments, governance and better means of conducting aid, rehabilitation, peace and development programs (Notre Dame University with the Commission on Population 2004; Daguino, Kamlian, et al. 2004, 3; Oxfam Great Britain November 2000; Accion Contra el Hambre June 2004). These assessments offer a generalized description of displacement patterns that highlight the helplessness of the displaced, the necessity of continued assistance, their crossing the threshold of food insecurity and on to an even bleaker future, as if the bakwits are a people without history.
II. Evacuations, Returns, and Rebuildings
Movements and Persistence
I believe that it is meaningful to view the patterns of displacements within the thirty-year time frame, and not to be limited to the bakwits’ situation and movements in the wars of 2000 and 2003. I also take note of the cultural diversity and complexities of Mindanao’s eighteen million people who are organized, but not exclusively, along ethno-linguistic, political, and even class lines.
In understanding displacement patterns, I keep track of the events when communities evacuate and the sites where they evacuated, the period when they start the process of returning and rebuilding their villages, and the time they are displaced again. Experiences of evacuations, returns and rebuildings are not limited to stories of helplessness and sufferings but are also about persistence and capabilities.
Evacuations
For this paper, evacuation means the time communities are displaced when residents migrate elsewhere to avoid being caught in the war. Being “caught in the war” has two meanings for some of the bakwits in Central Mindanao. First, it means exposing oneself or family to danger, and second, it means the mobilization of an individual, families, and clans to join the fighting. During the evacuation period, not all displaced families run far away from their villages and farms. Some stay and hide along river banks, forested areas, behind tall grasses or in dry portions of the swamps, as in the case of the experiences of the villagers across the Liguasan Marsh.4 In recent armed confrontations, particularly in 1997, 2000, and 2003, most displaced residents would flee to evacuation centers or camps.
Returns
I also distinguish returns from rebuildings because the bakwits go through distinct experiences in both events. They keep watch, especially of patrolling soldiers, and take the first opportunity of returning to their farms or fishing grounds at the marsh and rivers once the soldiers withdraw. After working their farms, fishing, or scouring for food from the field, they return to their refuge. The bakwits in the evacuation camps at times venture to their farms for a day or a few days. In the process of return, the bakwits do not immediately re-occupy the lands where their houses and farms used to be. Returning families group together in certain areas where they build temporary shelters even as they work their farms, either collectively or individually. In other cases, only the men return to the village to farm while the women, children, and the elderly stay in the evacuation sites. The reason for these arrangements is that they do not feel secure during the first few months of return when government soldiers continue to conduct patrol operations and are deployed near or within their farmlands. They know that after every battle, rebel forces would simply break into smaller groups but often stay near the village. These villages are also the homes of some of the rebels the government have been fighting with. Some of these rebels are the sons, husbands, brothers, in-laws, and cousins of the displaced. Civilians think that chances of getting caught in the crossfire are high because the warring forces are in their village.
Rebuildings
Rebuilding refers to the period when displaced communities start re-establishing or have already completed reconstruction of structures, materials resources, common and individual facilities, houses, and farms. Rebuilding, however, does not necessarily mean the return of all the bakwits. Some stay away from their original village for some time. Others return home periodically to farm and tend to other properties like farm animals and tools. I associate rebuilding to that period when the communities start the designing and the reconstruction of community resources and facilities like schools, houses, places of worship, traditional communal and multi-purpose halls, health centers, the continuation of planting cycles and abundance of harvest, purchase of farm tools, holding of elections, observance of rituals, the practice of worship, gathering of families and of the community, holding weddings, celebration of births, beautification of abandoned and bombed out burial ground, and the functioning of everyday life.
I think these criteria I set forth echo suggestions in setting the “bare minimum” of human capabilities so we can say clearly “what would be a humanly good way of countering limitation” (Nussbaum 1995, 80). Nussbaum offered a working list that evaluates human capabilities that includes perceiving, imagining, thinking, humor, sex, having intimate family, personal, and social relations, being imaginative, emotional and intellectual.
I checked these capabilities from the experience of the evacuees from Buliok and I find them amazingly animated. The narratives I am presenting were told to me by Buliok residents, who are still in the evacuation centers, have already returned to their village, or have gone elsewhere. Some of those who went not far away from their places of origin continue to tend their farms.
The Buliok Experience
In police and military parlance, Buliok is known as “Buliok Complex,” apparently intended to highlight the area’s strategic value as a military target. The law MILF chair Salamat Hashim established a base n this sprawling village after their headquarters based in the hinterlands Matanog town in Maguindanao fell during government offensives in 2000. For Buliok residents, their village is a barangay, the smallest and territorial unit of the Philippine government. Before the war in. and 2003, Buliok had schools, farms, mosques, government halls, health centers, and a population of 4,260 persons who thrived farming and fishing. It was not the only time Buliok was attacked, community and other residents from adjacent areas had gone t terrifying experiences of repeated armed conflicts since 1972.
Based on the narratives of Buliok, I trace the process of displa return, and rebuilding (see table below). I re-appropriate their s in terms of lines and curves. The diagonal lines represent the p of displacement, broken lines signify the bakwits’ efforts in re to their villages, and the solid lines highlight the displaced p initiatives in rebuilding their communities.
A quick glance at the table suggests that Buliok villagers through at least two long term displacements in 1972 and late 1974. they began returning in early 1974, fresh fighting erupted, result a six-year displacement between 1975 to 1981. Buliok bakwits st returning in the second half of 1981 and rebuilt their communities. until they were displaced again eight years later, in 1989. The bakwits started returning in 1991 and went on rebuilding their community until displaced again around the summer of 1997. The bakwits returned end of 1997 but were displaced again during the 2000 war. By the third quarter of 2000, a stream of evacuees gradually returned to Buliok only to be displaced in February 2003. In December 2003, the bakwits started returning up until the time this paper is being written.
The persistence of the Buliok community in returning and rebuilding is worth highlighting because their experience signifies the capabilities of the community that refuses to remain victims or be broken by displacements.
Buliok Before the Displacements
Menandang Mamolindas, 36 years old, a village councilor in the predominantly Muslim community of Buliok and chair of the bakwits association called Suara Kalilintad in Pikit and Pagalungan towns, recalls that before the 1972 displacements, Buliok was a thriving, self-sustaining community complete with three rice mills, several corn milling equipment, large houses with okir designs and high roofed houses on stilts, a madrasah, three mosques, wide swaths of tobacco, coconut, rice, and corn farms, fleet of motorized and non-motorized boats for fishing and transporting of farm produce to Cotabato City, fertile farmlands, and rows of stores. “A Story of Barangay Buliok” which Menandang wrote by long hand describes their place in the decade of 1960 to 1970 as masagana (abundant) because they had “several sources of income” (Mamolindas 2004).
Evacuations. 1972
Menandang wrote, that with the occurrence of communal violence in many parts of Cotabato in the early 1970s, cases of criminality in their community also went up and that their village was in turmoil following the formation of the fanatical, armed anti-Muslim group called Ilaga. The residents of Buliok and the surrounding communities actually prepared for the Raga attack by organizing and arming their men. In other accounts, the armed Maguindanawons were known as the Blackshirts and Barracuda who were reportedly linked to Maguindanao and Meranao politicians (McKenna 1998, 153, Che Man 1990, 75). For Menandang, they were defending their land as members of the community and of their clans. Armed members of the community and clans later re-organized and were transformed into nation revolutionaries with the formation of the MNLF (Jubair 1999, 148-1 As the MNLF gathered strength, government responded by dept massive troops, equipment and launching artillery and aerial attack The combined military firepower caused the large-scale displacement in the 1970s and in subsequent decades.
Classifying bombs
Menandang’s neighbors says that Buliok, its surrounding village and the marshes were pounded by artillery from army bases and bombs dropped by helicopters, Tora-tora aircraft, and later, by OV-10 bombs aircraft. The bombings were so intense that they developed idiom for the different bombs based on the size of the craters caused by bomb. A bomb crater big enough for a person to fit in is a “cutting bomb.” A bomb leaving a crater that fits a six-wheeler truck is called the “national bomb” while one that leaves a crater bigger than that left by a”national bomb” is referred to as an “international bomb.” The bombs and operations from ground troops destroyed t village. The residents fled to various parts of the vast Liguasan M During their stay in the marsh, they would fish and cook at night ensure that the soldiers and the planes would not see the smoke from fire and attack them. They heard that in some areas of the marsh, whelk families were bombed and wiped out for making the mistake of cook’ at daytime. There were no aid agencies or civil society extending he They relied on one another and the clan structures while in the marsh.
Trading and Feasting in Evacuation Sites
When the military aerial and pursuit operations stopped after a f* months, the bakwits tried farming the dry fertile lands of the mat or fishing in its waterways and swamps. A few members of the fa would slip through soldiers and paramilitary forces covering the points from the marsh and then sell their fish catch and harvest to II markets in Pikit or Cotabato City.
A few months after the displacements, traders, several of whom Christians and ethnic Chinese from Cotabato City, Pikit, and other a sailed to the marshlands peddling merchandise like biscuits, c a nThe4 goods, clothes, veils, kerosene gas, kitchen wares, blades for farmingand other basic household amenities. The traders, in turn, purchased the bakwits’ farm products and fish catch, and sold them back to Pikit or Cotabato City_. Life was not as easy compared to their life in Buliok before the war but they managed to hold kanduli or celebrations for weddings, births, remembering the dead, important Islamic rites, and other cultural events. They even managed to wear their best clothes in special rites while in the marsh. Clothes are among the priority items they carry during the evacuation.
Return, 1974 and Displacement, 1976
As the conflicts subsided, a few bakwits returned to their village around 1974 to work on their farms. Two years later, they fled again.9 Military ground assaults and aerial bombings continued, forcing families to break up and scatter across the Liguasan Marsh. Evacuees I interviewed claimed a significant level of civilian casualties in the massive air raids in 1978 and 1979. The bakwits thought the marsh was impenetrable from ground attacks but that belief was shattered with the landing of hundreds of soldiers in Dalgan and its surroundings in 1979. The bakwits abandoned the marsh and sought refuge in town centers.
Menandang slipped out of the Liguasan Marsh before the air strikes. He said some MNLF guerrilla leaders who are his relatives but who defected to the government warned him and other clan members of a planned massive air attack. He heeded the warning but other clan members and neighbors did not. They remained in the marsh for fear of a harsher life in the town center. Menandang and his family fled to Pikit but he kept a low profile doing menial jobs because some of his relatives who were former local MNLF commanders turned government military field officers suspected him of being with the rebels.
Return, 1981
When the guns fell silent in late 1981, a few displaced families returned to Buliok, They returned with guarded optimism, building huts close to one another. In each hut, two or three families lived together to ensure that everybody was within reach and could easily be warned in case they had to run. After a few more months without ground attacks and bombardments, the families started dispersing and rebuilding sturdier homes. Around 1983, the community was again teeming with life. They built two mosques and gradually acquired f animals, tools, and fishing equipment. Later on, they rebuilt one of three rice mills destroyed in the 1970s.
Evacuations, 1990
All these, however, were destroyed six years later when another engulfed their village. Buliok villagers stayed away, returning only around 1991. They started rebuilding about two years later in 1993. They set-more stable houses, re-cultivated their abandoned tobacco, corn and lands, installed corn mills, and purchased motorboats. As a barangay the community managed to press the government to construct public elementary and high schools, village halls, and other facilities. All these, however, went to naught in 1997 when military attack targeted Rajah Muda village in Pikit, a short three kilometers from Buliok. Government soldiers announced that the attack was meant “flush out” kidnap-for-ransom gangs and criminal to have slipped into Rajah Muda. Artillery and aerial bombings a groups report fighting spread towards the Liguasan Marsh, forcing Buliok resident and other villages in Pikit and Pagalungan to flee. From
Marsh to Camps
The 1997 displacements marked a shift in the destinations of t bakwits. By this time, more evacuees sought refuge in elementary school the madrasah, mahad, gymnasium, warehouses, plaza, old cinema house and other parts of the central part of Pikit town. At least 30,000 family I evacuated to Pikit at that time (MindaNews video documentary). In the town center, aid from government, humanitarian institutions, churches, Islamic associations, and civil society groups poured in. To access the bakwits signed survey sheets prepared by aid agencies and waiting for the process of verification attesting that they were, indeed, evacuees Upon verification, they were given coupons required to be shown aid workers distributing relief goods. These goods usually include fi to ten kilos of rice, cans of sardines, noodles, soap, detergent bars, a other household needs, among others.
Samira Usman, a twenty-seven year old evacuee from a village called Kudal near Buliok, said never had she felt so humiliated as when she lined up for food from aid agencies. Though life was more difficult in their evacuation sites in the Liguasan Marsh and other safer fields in Pikit and Pagalungan towns, they were not made to line up for relief goods.
Imaging the “Helpless” Bakwits
The images of the bakwits helplessly lining up for aid with hands stretching out for food, eves in tears, staring aimlessly at nothingness, and their children wearing torn clothes and holding empty tin plates are beamed on television news and splashed across the pages of the newspapers. I think these images of helplessness set the discourse of the bakwits as a people who do not know their rights, are poor, uneducated, powerless, and in need of continuing assistance and lectures on livelihood and empowerment.
When the tensions in Rajah Muda eased, residents started returning around 1998 and went back to farming and producing goods, a reality that is far from the images frozen by television and newspaper photographs at one point of their lives as bakwits. Two years later, the chance of rebuilding dissipated because Buliok residents fled again when then President Joseph Estrada launched an “all-out-war” against the MILF in the summer of 2000.
The MILF’s main base in the hinterlands of Matanog, Maguindanao Province fell following massive air strikes and military assaults. Mosques, houses. stores, schools, and communities were destroyed. The war expanded to the provinces of Lanao del Sur. Lanao del None, Bukidnon, Sultan Kudarat, Zamboanga del Sur, and North Cotabato. Government placed the number of displaced persons at between seven hundred thousand and one million persons (Notre Dame University with the Commission on Population 2004, 9).
The Problem with Aid
Aid agencies, civil society members, churches, and other groups loured relief goods to Pikit, Pagalungan, and other conflict-affected areas, but sometimes relief distribution created conflicts.Some aid agencies claim that non-bakwits or people who were not displaced took advantage of relief goods by signing up among the displaced.
Some evacuees also listed their children’s names so they could get more food aid. Other evacuees sold their supplies and certain traditional :enders kept the relief goods in their homes.
Samira says the aid agencies do not know the whole story. She says that while some of those who had their names listed for relief were not evacuees of the 2000 war, they were the bakwits of earlier wars who failed to return home and had difficulty surmounting economic difficulties. Evacuees who listed the names of their children and even long dead relatives did so because they were not certain when the next supplies would be coming. Some sold their aid goods because they found the items less needed. They used the money to purchase what they felt was more needed or what they preferred. For instance, a relief agency distributed mongo beans thinking that it is a good source of protein but some evacuees especially those suffering from arthritis would not eat them believing that these have high uric acid content and could trigger chemical reactions that could cause more body pains. The money they earned from selling the beans were used to buy fish, still a source of protein that better suits their taste and health. Certain traditional leaders in host communities demanded a share of relief goods because that has been the practice in the area.
The problem with aid in the context of Samira’s story is that it does not match the displaced community’s expectations. Aid agencies rise above the “helpless bakwits” who are at the receiving end of “humanitarian assistance.” Aid agencies take the vantage position of power as they tend to set the ethics and morality of receiving aid. They frown on people who list more names to get more aid, scoff at traditional leaders who demand a share of relief goods, and decide who qualify to be bakwits on the basis of the year they were displaced. In certain situations, like in Samira’s story, the issue is not the ethics and morality of claiming aid, but an understanding and appreciation of the complexities and problems of life in refugee camps, or in evacuation centers as they are known in Mindanao.
Life in Evacuation Centers
Most of the refugees lived in cramped blue plastic tents that became oven-hot in the morning to mid-afternoon. The poor layout and facilities of the camp added to the desperation of the evacuees and made them look, feel, and think helpless. The camps are also fields of contestations and of power centers. Since the camps are set up in lands claimed by traditional clan and community leaders of host communities, the evacuees have to bow to the rules that the leader set, like the practice of sharing goods, be it relief, trade products, or government resources.
Other evacuees refused to be overwhelmed by desperation. Samira and her husband purchased the parcel of the land they had been occupying, using the money saved from their last harvest. Some fifty other families also brought parcel of lands adjacent to the lot bought by Samira and her husband. They raised the money from the sale of their harvest, loans, and support sent by their children working as domestic helpers abroad. Others set up cooling stations near the town hall selling snacks, drinks, and lunch to police personnel and town hall employees. There were evacuees who worked as hired hands and did other menial jobs. Still, many of the evacuees returned to their farms, braving the dangers of getting caught in the crossfire between warring government and rebel forces.
Displaced persons in other evacuation centers also had more to share than stories of sufferings and deprivations. To celebrate the breaking of the fast in the Holy Month of the Ramadan in November 2001, a family of Muslim bakwits in one of Pikit’s evacuation centers managed to share probably the last of what they had with a Catholic priest who has been their friend and ally in the endless cycle of war and peace. The priest, Roberto Layson of the Pikit Parish, was humbled by the encounter and thought of the bakwits’ action as an expression of “human greatness” and “capability” despite being caught in an extremely difficult situation. He writes in his reflection:
As I started eating, I could hardly swallow the food. I looked at the sardines and the rice before me. It gave me a feeling of guilt. ‘This could have been another meal for the family,’ I kept telling myself. I felt ashamed because here I was inside the tent, with my bloated Christian ego, feeling great for being the famous Fr. Bert, the priest in town who gives rice. Until the evacuees inside the tent showed me what was real greatness.
I thought that because the evacuees were starving they would keep everything for themselves, and be no longer capable of showing generosity to fellow human beings like me. I was terribly wrong. I underestimated the evacuees because I overestimated myself.
The evacuees inside the tent showed me that they were, in fact, larger than themselves, that they were more real than what I think I am.
While I shared from the abundance of what I have, they shared from the little of what they have and gave probably the last food left in their possession (Layson 2004).
The Continuing Saga of Evacuations, Returns, Evacuations and Returns
When President Estrada was ousted in January 2001, a ceasefire Was called by his successor, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo. Government and MILF peace negotiations resumed with the aim of rehabilitating war-affected areas.10 Buliok residents started the process of return in late 2001. This time, however, MILF chair Salamat Hashim transferred his base to Buliok. Buliok residents claimed they were aware of the MILF presence but they continued to go about their everyday life knowing that some of their relatives are also members of the MILF. Buliok residents trace common descent with Hashim as a Bagoingeden, a cultural and inter-clan grouping within the Maguindanao ethnolinguistic group occupying Buliok and its surrounding areas.
Three years after the 2000 conflicts, another war dispersed the residents of Buliok. But even before the government assault, several residents had started fleeing Buliok. The signs of an impending war were evident with the continued arrival of military troops and equipment in Pikit. Local government officials also advised Buliok residents, most of them their relatives, to leave. The defense department claimed that the campaign targeted “terrorists” who reportedly slipped into Buliok.
On 11 February 2003, a few civilians, including women and children, remained in Buliok thinking that the soldiers would not attack on sacred day of the Eid’l Adha, one of the holiest rites in the Islamic religion. Mike Luay, a Buliok resident, tells me that a few civilians 3nri MILF religious and fighters were gathered in and around a mosque reciting the Al Fatiha, the opening words in the Holy Q’uran, when the first volley of artillery fires hit parts of Buliok. The community fell and houses were leveled. Soldiers captured and took over the MIL F’s Islamic Center. As the military scored points, the social cost of -he war was staggering. Records from the Department of Social Welfare try. and Development (DSWD) noted that the number of the bakwits reached 411,004 (MindaNews, November 2003). Those in Pikit wire distributed in sixty-five evacuation centers (Notre Dame University a lei Commission on Population 2004, 9).
The first of the bakwits returned in about four months, in ju 2003. In October 2004, more evacuees returned to Buliok followi 11.; the pull-out of military forces from the Islamic Center and several oth et farmlands in the area. Thus continued the saga of evacuations, returns, and hopeful rebuildings.
III. New Bakwit Movements
Since the war in 2000, the evacuees in Buliok as well as in other parts of Central Mindanao have adopted new strategies and explored other fields of movements instead of confining their places of refuge in the Liguasan Marsh and its surrounding areas. These fields included asserting a “space” within their community that would be spared from any hostility by all warring groups, and networking with peace advocacy groups who can lobby right at the seat of government power in Metro Manila and before the Central Committee of the MILF.
The Space for Peace
In another part of Pikit town, multi-ethnic villagers of Nalapaan partnered with aid and church groups to set up delegations who communicated with the leadership of the military and the MILF to respect their places as off limits to armed encounters. Nalapaan residents in the village also went through the endless cycle of evacuation, return, and rebuilding every time bombing raids and armed encounters flare up in Buliok and surrounding areas. The village is a strategic point for both the military and the rebels.12 On 1 February 2001, Nalapaan residents declared their village a “space for peace.” Government forces, 1+.1I1,F, local and provincial government officials, and civil society groups committed support to the declaration. The following year, residents of the adjacent village of Panicupan also followed and worked for the declaration of their place as space for peace. The declarations were tested at the height of the Buliok attack in February 2003. MILF and military forces entered the villages the villages of Nalapaan and Panicupan at the time of the fighting. Villagers abandoned their homes but re-grouped and stayed put in a space within the “space for peace” instead of fleeing to the evacuation sites at the Pikit town center several kilometers away. Village leaders and church groups supporting the declaration in 2001 and 2002 reminded the government and MILF leadership of their commitment to respect the spaces for peace. The military and the MILF subsequently avoided engaging each other in the space for peace areas.
The space for peace is for all concerned — the bakwits, village officials, civil society groups, local government, and the military and rebels — to respect each other’s positions, views, ideologies, and including the decision to bear arms. But each one will try to reach out and dialogue about security concerns and issues in the community.
Staff and volunteers including Muslims affiliated with the Roman Catholic’s Immaculate Conception Parish in Pikit worked closely with the Nalapaan residents in building the space for peace. At the slightest sign of misunderstanding between neighbors, residents and the Pikit parish staff worked together to figure out the roots of the conflict and tap existing conflict resolution mechanisms in the community to deal with the issues. Through the space for peace, the residents and the parish staff collectively accessed from government and aid agencies the entitlements due the evacuees. Implementation of these interventions was managed as components of peace-building programs. The building of community facilities like tube wells, multipurpose halls and even the distribution of houses and farm inputs were harnessed by the residents as opportunities in healing the divisions wrought by repeated wars. These intervention projects, if not managed along peace and relationship building lines, can sow more divisions and animosities in the community and complicate peace efforts.
After the 2003 war, in partnership with the Pikit parish staff and other civil society groups, residents and officials from five other villages in Pikit began working for the inclusion of their areas in the “spaces for peace,” effectively expanding the space off limits to war from two to seven villages. Government and MILF forces have extended their commitment to respect these areas as spaces for peace. On 29 November, residents, village officials and their partners in civil society celebrated the declaration of all seven villages as an expanded space for peace. They invited representatives from both government and the MILF, the Malaysian-led international ceasefire monitoring team, and other groups and community leaders from across Mindanao to celebrate with them.
Significantly, contributing to the success of the space for peace is the dynamic composition of the staff in the Pikit parish. They understood fully well the dynamics of evacuations and the capacities of the bakwits. One factor for such a nuanced understanding of the evacuation experience is that they are residents in the area and that many of them also went through the difficult saga of evacuations, returns, and rebuildings.
Harnessing the Power of the Bakwits
Popular support for the war in February 2003 prompted some groups in civil society to soul search and even question if peace advocacy in Mindanao really has constituents. Members of the Mindanao People’s Caucus (MPC), a multi-cultural peace advocacy group, thought of holding consultations and asking the evacuees in Pikit and Pagalungan of their view of the war, and of possibly mobilizing them in demanding from both the government and the MILF to observe their ceasefire agreements.
In late May 2003, several evacuees and MPC volunteers gathered in a school in Pagalungan not to line up for food but to discuss what they can do about the war. In the end, the group decided that they would organize a rally and indefinitely block the national highway in Pagalungan that connects the cities of Davao and Cotabato, two major and strategic urban centers in Mindanao, until the government and the MILF heed their demands for a ceasefire. Some members of the MPC agreed to the holding of a mass action but opposed the blocking of the highway fearing that such move will provoke government authorities and that the situation could turn even more bloody. The plan was debated. They finally agreed not to block the highway but continue with two days of mass actions.
Unleashing the Bakwit Power
On 24 June 2003, an estimated 7,000 evacuees formed a kilometer-long line stretching from the Pikit town center to Pagalungan along the national highway. The evacuees carried signboards and streamers proclaiming “Ceasefire Now!” and the symbolic name of the event: “Bakwit Power.”
The bakwits, joined by civil society groups, did unleash their power as they attracted government and rebel attention. Secretary Teresita Deles, a member of the cabinet then heading the National Anti-Poverty Commission, was sent by President Macapagal Arroyo to Pagalungan and spoke before the gathering of bakwits and civil society groups at the town plaza. Deles read aloud the Bakwit Power manifesto and assured the residents that the government would work on their demands.
Following the Bakwit Power,’ the bakwits and some of civil society staff met again and reflected on their next move. They decided to organize an association that will continue the spirit of the Bakwit Power. They named the group Suara Kalilintad or Voice of Peace. Suara Kalilintad is steered by a “Board of Directors” and an executive committee composed of bakwits. They partnered with civil society groups working in Pikit and Pagalungan for the construction of twenty houses for returning evacuees. The MPC raised the funds by holding a peace concert in relatively more affluent Davao City and by soliciting from other civil society groups. Suara Kalilintad, as of this time, faces challenges from , within its leadership. The board of directors disagreed with the way some of their projects were implemented. Others raised issues of lack of transparency in identifying beneficiaries of their projects.
Bantay Ceasefire: Winning the Peace
While the Suara directors are in disagreement on some issues, they continue to work together in a formation called the Bantay Ceasefire, a civil society-led ceasefire monitor organized in October 2001, with networks from among peace advocates in various parts of Mindanao and in Metro Manila, the media, the academe, churches, and evacuees in the evacuation camps or those who have already returned to their village.
The joint ceasefire committees of the government and MILF peace panels acknowledged the critical and effective role of Bantay Ceasefire in independently monitoring the implementation of the ceasefire accords.” Recently, the evacuees in the Bantay Ceasefire network played a critical role calling immediate public attention to prevent an armed conflict. In March 2004, returning evacuees in Buliok were alarmed by the movements of the MILF and government troops. An evacuee who is also a Bantay Ceasefire member sent an SMS from a mobile phone describing government troops and MILF movements and the fresh wave of evacuations in early March. The evacuee noted in the message that the soldiers and MILF guerrillas were within shooting distance from each other and that a slightest provocation could lead to a gun battle and ultimately into a war.
The Bantay Ceasefire coordinator who is based in Davao City received the bakwit’s message in his mobile .phone and immediately alerted the Government-MILF ceasefire committees, the Office of the Presidential Adviser on the Peace Process, military commanders, and the Bantay Ceasefire network of the situation on the ground. The information went through and down the military and MILF chains of command which restrained their forces on the field. The joint ceasefire committee also visited Buliok and adjacent villages and learned that the MILF’s movements were due to a miscommunication over a date of a meeting with the visiting Advance Survey Team of the Malaysian-led International Monitoring Team on the ceasefire accords. The Malaysian team met with MILF forces in Buliok on 28 March 2004.
Here, we see the mobile phone as a useful tool in monitoring the ceasefire and displacement events before and as they happen. The mobile phone is also effective in alerting the public regarding guerrilla and government troop movements. The alert was relayed to the military and MILF chains of command that, in turn, called the field commanders to exercise restraint and defuse the tense situation.
Evacuees from Buliok and nearby villages are at present representing the Bantay Ceasefire in the joint ceasefire monitoring outpost established by the Government-MILF ceasefire committees in the village of Bagoinged in Pikit and the Islamic Center in Buliok. The outposts were designed by joint ceasefire committees to effectively monitor conflicts in strife-torn areas.
At the outpost, the evacuees find themselves on equal ground with the foot soldiers of both the government and the MILF. They eat, share stories, talk about dreams, and trade jokes with members of the army and MILF guerrillas at the outpost, instead of running away from them-
IV. Solidarity
The experience of the bakwits in Buliok and other parts of Pikit, when seen in a time continuum, is not all about desperation, helplessness, and victimization. A good part of it is about persistence as shown by the dignified way with which they conducted themselves in the course of the different evacuations and in engaging other spheres of movements such as the Bantay Ceasefire and the Spaces for Peace. I think these are significant indications of human agency, unlike the generalized description of the displaced as people who went through a “transition from independence to being dependent on government,
NGOs, or individuals” and of being overwhelmed with feeling:; of “fear, hopelessness, lack of power, and anger” (CFSI June 2003, 5).
Re-understanding the Bakwit Image
Viewing the bakwits from a narrow frame of displaced people fleeing from wars with heavy loads on their way to cramped evacuation centers may have shaped the assessment of the “helpless bakwits.” Because of the discourse of the bakwit as weak and vulnerable, some aid agencies asked them their needs through needs assessment studies, facilitated their return to their communities, provided them the “foundation for peace building and sustainable development,” offered them training to increase individual capability and community capacity to address different concerns (CFSI June 2003, 10. Tabang Mindanaw brochure).
It is quite absurd to lecture on capacity and capability building to a.group of people who carried themselves with remarkable capabilities and capacities in the course of evacuations, returns, and rebuildings in the past thirty years.
Solidarity and Beyond Aid
At this point, the real challenge for all concerned is to stop treating the displaced as the receiving end of aid and interventions. Ethics and decency demand that we learn. from the displaced on how they managed to persist in difficult circumstances. Capacities could be the basis of relationships in addressing situations of evacuation, the return and the rebuilding of war-affected communities. Finally, I think the urgent call is to work in solidarity with the bakwits instead of “helping” them and acting as their “service providers.” The issue of repeated displacements is not all about the bakwits. It is about armed conflict, an issue of importance to every resident of Mindanao the Philippines and even of Southeast Asia because we all stand to lose if the armed conflicts keep on repeating.
On 19 April 2002, two years after the 2000 all-out-war and less than a year before the massive offensive in Buliok on 11 February 2003, Presidential Consultant for Mindanao Paul Dominguez told a civil society round table forum on “The Costs of Mindanao Conflict and their Implications on the Budget,” that based on a “very preliminary” findings from a then—ongoing World Bank Study, “the present value of the ‘economic cost of a never-ending conflict would be at least USD2 billion over the next ten years” (Arguillas 2003):
The Power of the Displaced: A Force for Peace Advocacy
The tasks of ending the conflicts and the ensuing displacements is enormous, beckoning everybody to lend a hand. To echo a Bantay Ceasefire report: “If peace in Mindanao is going to be forged, thew it should not only be by two dozen or more people who compose the official peace panels and their technical committees, advisers and working groups, but by the millions of stakeholders living in what we hope would be former battlegrounds in the future” (Bantay Ceasefire 2003, 7).
I think, the bakwits are an enormous force that spring right from the war-ravaged areas. If the bakwit force is tapped in peace advocacy, they can unleash the energy, power, and network that could nip conflicts even before they can escalate. The bakwits in Buliok did just that and I’m confident that it can be done elsewhere and in the future.
Parang, Maguindanao
II. PARANG, MAGUINDANAO
The province of Maguindanao used to be part of the former lone province of Cotabato. Maguindanao became a province by virtue of Presidential Decree 341 issued on November 22,1973. It is bounded by the Province of North Cotabato In the east, the lllana Bay in the west. Sultan Kudarat in the south, and Lanao del Sur in the north. The province includes 17 municipalities and 424 barangays spread over its 5,425-square kilometer area. Seven (7) municipalities are classified as sixth class municipalities, six as fifth class, and only four are considered fourth class municipalities.
The 1980 census ranks Maguindanao as the 30th most-populated province nationwide, with the males slightly outnumbering the females. Maguindanao is the mother-tongue of more than two-thirds of the population (68.8 percent); then in other-tongue of the rest are Cebuano (7.1 percent), Tiruray (5.8 percent), Kongo (4.8 percent), and Maranaw (4.2 percent).
parang is one of the fourth class municipalities in the province of Maguindanao. It is bounded by the municipality of Matanog in the north, the province of Sultan Kudarat in the South, lllana Bay in the west, and the municipality of guidon in the east. Parang is divided into 18 barangays. The 1980 census placed its population at 45,994. With a land area of 14,600 hectares, the municipality has a population density of 3.15 persons per hectare. The domestic trade of the province is done mainly through the Polloc Port which is located in Parang. One of the major industrial establishments of the province is the Sarmiento Industries Incorporated (SII) which mainly produces plywood.
Parang is one of the most important fishing centers in the province. Its 3,685 fishermen account for 75 percent of all the fishermen in the province. Its 2,487 fishing boats account for 75 percent of all the fishing boats in the province. The province has nine (9) fish processing establishments, seven (7) of which are located in Parang.
Barangay Magsaysay is a coastal barangay of the municipality of Parang. Except for the areas near the seashore, the terrain is rolling so that it takes a tricycle about ten minutes to negotiate the one-and-a-half kilometers that separate the barangay from the Poblacion. The 1975 census placed the population of the barangay at 1,985, and the number of households at 323. The barangay captain places the current (1982) figures at 3,318 and 538, respectively. The three (3) major ethnic groups in the barangay are the Cebuanos (60 percent), the Maguindanao (20 percent), and the llongos (15 percent), who together account for 95 percent of the total population.
The two (2) major religions espoused by the population are Catholicism and Islam. Each group has its own place of worship. However, while the Muslims have a resident religious minister, the Catholics do not. Their religious needs are served by a priest who resides at the Poblacion.
The barangay has a complete elementary grade school, and until 1964, it had a high school. Now high school students have to go to the poblacion for their schooling. Electricity is supplied by the Maguindanao Electric Cooperative (Magelco). While the barangay has water supply, its people also rely on rain water. Serving the health needs of the residents are one midwife, three hilots, and four barangay workers. Those who need the services of a doctor have to go to the poblacion or to Cotabato City which is 27 kilometers away from the municipality of Parang. Professional services such as those of lawyers and accountants have to be sought in the poblacion or in the city since none of the barangay residents offer these services. Other services, however, like that of a barber, beautician, tailor, seamstress, and photographer are available in the barangay.
The most common commercial establishment in the barangay is the sari-sari store of which there are 15. There are also three restaurants, one bakery, four depots: Caltex, Petron, Mobil and shell; and one lodging house. There is no drugstore though sari-sari stores sell medicine like Medicol, Cortal, Aspirin, etc. for common ailments.
Although newspapers are not sold in the barangay, the residents could get them from the poblacion. A total of 26 households have television sets which receive programs from two TV stations. A greater proportion of the households own the less expensive portable transistorized radios. For recreation, the barangay has one basketball court and four billiard halls. There is also gymnasium under construction.
The barangay is small and so does not require local transportation facilities. Transportation to the poblacion is provided by jeepneys and tricycles. Though the distance is short (1.5 kilometers), the fare is P0.75 because of the terrain. It takes about 15 minutes to negotiate the distance. Transportation to Cotabato City, which is 27 kilometers away from the Poblacion, is provided by jeepneys. The trip lasts about 45 minutes and its fare costs P3.50.
Most of the residents of Barangay Magsaysay live on fishing. Of the 538 families, 460 or 85 percent, depend on fishing as their main source of livelihood. There are 139 fishing boats in the barangay, or an average of one boat for every 3.31 families. A total of 86 of these boats are motorized; the rest are powered by paddle, sail, or both. The majority of the boats are operated by the owner themselves. Most of them are not large enough for deep-sea fishing. There are five big ones which could, however and each of them has a crew of at least 20 fishermen.
The fishermen use a variety of fishing gears among which are basnig, gill net, bamboo coral, hand net, line and hook, pana, and baling. Although fishing is a twelve-month activity, the months of July to December are considered by many fishermen to be the peak period and January to June as the lean period. The reason why the latter is considered lean is that the climate is hot during these months. While some fishermen sell their catch through middlemen, other prefer to do the selling themselves. Fish caught in Barangay Magsaysay eventually find their way to the public market of Parang, Cotabato City, and the neighboring towns.
Profile of the Fishermen
Most of the respondents (90 percent) are married, relatively young, and have only an elementary education. Their mean age is 35.5 years while the ages of the middle 50 percent range from 27 to 42. Ten of the 16 who have gone beyond grade six have some years of collegiate education. Close to three-fourths (73.6 percent) of the fishermen were born in Mindanao, the majority (72 percent) were born in the municipality of Parang. All of those who reported birthplaces outside Mindanao claim^l to have been born in the Visayas. A good proportion (41 percent) of the fishermen reported their present barangay as their place of birth. Residential lot ownership is low; only 23 percent said they owned the tot where their house is now standing. The average number of years the fishermen have been living in their present residence is over 23 years. Nevertheless, the middle 50 percent have been living in their present residence from 13 to 32 years. Catholicism and Islam are the two religions most of the respondents claimed they belong to (74 percent and 21 percent respectively). Cebuano, Maguindanao, and llongo are the ethnic groups which make up more than 90 percent of the respondents (58 percent, 19 percent, and 16 percent, respectively). The fact that 21 percent of the fishermen claimed Islam as their religion when only 19 percent claimed to belong to the Maguindanao ethnic group suggests that conversion of a Christian to Islam is more likely to occur than the conversion of a Muslim to a Christian.
Majority of the fishermen (57 percent) live in duplex houses, while more than a quarter (28 percent) live in single-unit homes. The houses that are made of strong construction materials are generally in a poor state of repair, while those made of light construction materials are generally in good state of repair. A full 45 percent live in houses with Gl roofing and either wooden or cemented walls. While 18 percent of the fishermen live in houses with nipa roofing and walls of either nipa, cogon, or bamboo. The number of rooms per house ranges from 1 to 4, with about 2 as the average. Slightly more than three-fourths (77 percent) of the fishermen own the houses they live in. However, hardly a third (29.9 percent) own the lot their houses are built on. Of the 77 fishermen who are not lot owners, only one admitted to paying rent. In effect, a good number of them are squatters.
Despite the availability of electricity from the Maguindanao Electric Cooperative in the locality, only 14 percent of the respondents use electricity for lighting. The remaining 86 percent use kerosene. The majority (97 percent) use wood for cooking; two of the remaining three use LPG, and the last one use kerosene.
Around a third of the fishermen own dining sets, sale sets, and beds (32 percent 33 percent and 27 percent respectively). The radios owned by 61 percent of the respondents appears to be a common household possession. Television sets and refrigerators – being electricity-dependent and relatively more expensive and more dispensable — are rarer possessions; only four percent said they own a television set, and two percent own a refrigerator.
Perhaps because the respondents are mainly fishermen, livestock raising is not a popular activity. The only domestic animals reported raised by the fishermen are chickens and pigs. The number of chickens owned by 21 fishermen ranges from one to 23 with each of them owning seven on the average. Pigs are owned by more fishermen (30 percent), with each of them having two pigs on the average.
The regular meal of the respondents consists of rice and fish. Instead of eating rice breakfast, however, a few fishermen eat bread. With reference to the week before the interview, only one fisherman admitted to having an egg for breakfast. Meat consumption is also relatively low. Though present for lunch on the tables of 76 fishermen, vegetable is not served for supper. Eighty percent of the respondents said they have, however, regular snacks. Since the fishermen normally do not pay for their fish in cash, the only big expense they incur for food is that for rice. The average weekly expenditure for rice is P45.00 ; average
Fishing Activities imputed expense for fish consumption is P44.40 a week.
Of the household members who are between 10 and 64 of age, 156 are working. The number of working household members per household ranges from one to five, with only one member employed for most households (64percent). Only one fisherman said there are five employed household members. The average number of working members per household is two persons. Of the 156 working household members, 84.6 percent are engaged in fishing, and barely 0.6 percent have a secondary job. As the 100 households involve a total of 608 members, or an average of 6 members per household, each employed household members, or an average of 6 members per household, each employed household member has to support, aside from himself, three other individuals.
The mean annual income per household from fishing activity is P8,781.82. This amount, however, is widely distributed among the fishermen as the standard deviation is P10,115.32. The income of the middle 50 percent ranges from P4,800 to P8,400 while the median income is P6,000. The mean non-fishing annual income of the 25 households with members engaged in non-fishing economic activity is P3,098.40. The non-fishing income raises the total average annual income of the fishermen by P774.60 to P9,556.41.
The majority of the fishermen have a safe source of drinking water. Sixty-five percent of the households have piped water. The rest get their drinking water from an open well or a spring. Toilet ownership is not widespread Only 44 percent said they have one. The absence of toilets in many households does not cause too much inconvenience to these people who, like most other coastal residents, find constructing one dispensable.
The most common ailments in the barangay are flu/fever (75 percent), colds (45 percent), and gastro/diarrhea (27 percent). Incidence of diarrhea in the place can be ascribed to the lack of toilet facilities and, the use of open wells and springs as sources of drinking water.
With reference to the year before the interview, 77 percent of the fishermen said at least one member of their household fell sick. For most households only one or two members fell sick (66 percent of the 77 households), although some said that as many as seven or eight members of their household got sick. The total number of household members who got sick for the 77 households was 181, an average of two for each household. Most of the ailments mentioned by the 77 fishermen – – flu, fever, and colds – – were. In fact, minor and normally did not require medical attention. Nevertheless, 115 or 63.5 percent of those who got sick were considered by the respondents serious enough to need medical attention. Of the 77 fishermen who said at least one member of their household fell sick, 63 said such member needed medical treatment. For most of these 63 households (51 or 80.1 percent), only one or two of their members needed medical treatment. Of the 115 members who did need medical treatment, 84.3 percent actually received medical attention for their sick members. This is traceable to their relatively low family income.
Fishing Activities
At the time of the interview, all respondents regarded fishing as their primary occupation. For most of them, fishing also happens to be their sole occupation. As most of them belong to families whose fathers were also fishermen, majority of the respondents started fishing while still young. The respondents have been fishing for an average of 16.1 years. Considering that their mean age now is 35, their mean age when they started fishing was 19 years. Just as the standard deviation of their age is rather large (11.7 years) the standard deviation of the number of years they have been fishing is also large (10.54 years). The number of years the middle 50% of the respondents have been fishing ranges from 7 to 21 years.
When asked how they learned fishing, most of the respondents (81 percent) said they learned through experience, akin to what some people call as on-the-job training. The rest said they learned from their friends. Only a handful of the respondents (17 percent) had the opportunity to attend a fishing-related seminar. Except for two, all of these 17 said the seminar was sponsored by a government agency. It is significant that three out of every four (76 percent) of these 17 fishermen were able to put into practice the knowledge they gained from the seminar they attended.
Of the 100 fishermen, 20 own and operate their own bancas, 47 rent one, and the remaining 33 are hired crew members. Some 6f those who rent their bancas are actually amortizing them, but because of the uncertainty of their capability to complete amortization, they would rather consider themselves as boat renters. Whenever their catch is big, they add a few of their catch to take care of their amortization after giving the usual percentage to the boat owner. Since this does not occur often, the amortization period tends to be rather long. Moreover, more immediate needs very often compel the boat renters to suspend their amortization payments indefinitely. Some of the fishermen, especially those who are crew members, do not have personal fishing gears, but some crew members have fishing gears. .As their services are not needed by the boat owner at certain hours of the fishing trip some of them bring with them their own fishing gears to do what they call a “sideline. The most popular fishing gear among the 79 fishermen who own one is the single line with multiple small hooks, locally known as estrangre. Sixty-eight percent of them use this kind of fishing gear. The two next most popular ones are the small net and the line with single hook, used by 16 5 percent and 12.6 percent respectively of the 79 fishing gear-owning fishermen The fairly big fishing boats that employ 33 crew-fishermen use big nets that require the services of about 20 people.
The fishermen are at sea for an average of 10.6 hours at a time Some of them, however, stay longer than the others so that the standard deviation of their stay at sea is 3.8 hours. The middle 50 percent are at sea from 8 to 14 hours. In a week, the fishermen go fishing for an average of 6 4 days There is less variation on the number of days the fishermen go fishing, as the standard deviation is less than one. The average number of hours, therefore during which the fishermen are at sea in a week’s time is 67.8 hours. Compart to a typical employee who works eight hours a day from Monday to Friday and four hours on Saturday, or a total of 44 hours a week, the fisherman does overtime work for an wage of 23.84 hours weekly. If one were to include in the fishermen’s working hours the time they spend in attending to the repair and maintenance of their boats and the preparation of and care for their fishing gear, their working hours would even be longer. The working hours of the 33 crew-fishermen are more or less uniform. They usually leave for their boat anchored about two hundred meters from the beach at four i the afternoon and are back at seven in the morning the following day. They do not fish the whole month. They attend to the repair of their boats, mending their nets during a full moon which last for about five days.
The crow are practically employees of the boat owner. They get paid in cash at the end of each fishing cycle or one lunar cycle, i.e, from one full moon to the next full moon. The boat owner records the value of the catch of each fishing trip. From the value of the total catch of one fishing cycle, he deducts all expenses relative to fishing which among others, include fuel and parts for the boat owner, the other half to the crew who divided this among themselves, their share depending on their role in the boat. The maestro who acts as the over-all-in-charge as much as five times more than the lowest-ranking crew member.
Production
certain factors determine which are the peak and lean fishing months, weather is one example. Stormy seasons are normally lean months, while mild stormy seasons can be a lean period for fishermen with small boats but not necessarily for those with big ones. There are times when the fish stay only in the deep sea, and for those with adequeately equipped boats, the season could still be a peak one. The kind of fishing gear used could also spell the difference between a lean season and peak one.
The range of the number of peak and lean months for the fishermen is from one to nine . The average is quite close to five for the number of lean months and four for the number of lean months. The variation for the number of lean months is greater than that for the peak moths. The standard deviation of the number of lean month is 2.4 months, while that of the peak months is only 1.9 months.
The volume of catch is disproportionately distributed. Excluding that of the crew, the mean monthly catch during peak month is 190.5 percent ranges from 70 to 300 kilos with a median catch of 22.4 times greater than the average catch of the lowest 10 percent (28 kilos).
The volume of fish caught directly affects the value of the catch. Again excluding that of the crew who know only the aggregate value of the catch of their boat for one fishing cycle, there is a considerable disproportion in the value of the fishermen’s catch. While the average value for one month during the peak period is 1,290.67, the standard deviation of this value is greater (P1,565.00). In fact, the value of the catch of the 75th percentile (P1,280.00) is even lower than the computed mean value. The average value of the catch of the highest 10 percent (5,306.67) is 25 times that of the lowest 10 percent (P211.67). The median value is P750.00.
The disproportion of the volume and value of catch during lean months is even greater than that for peak months. While the average momhiy catch during lean months is 78.7 kilos (less than one-half or only 44.29 percent of the catch during peak months), the standard deviation is 131.7 kilos. Again, the catch (60 kilos) of the 75th percentile Is lower than the computed average catch. The median catch is only 40 kilos. The average catch of the highest 10 percent (417.7 kilos) is 53.9 times that of the lowest 10 percent (7.74 kilos).
The value of the catch during lean months is naturally lower as the volume of the catch is small. While the monthly average value of the catch during lean months is P589.92, the standard deviation is P1,020.23. The median value of the catch is P280 and the middle 50 percent range from P200 to P420. The value of the catch of the highest 10 percent (P20,200) is greater than the value of the catch of the remaining 90 percent (P16,375). The average value of the catch of the top 10 percent P3,336.67) is 69.2 times the value of the catch of the lowest 10 percent (48.67).
The crew being hired labor do not incur any expenses unless they fish for themselves when their services are not needed by the boat owner. The three major expense items entailed in a fishing trip as reported by the fishermen are fuel, food, and ice. Only three or four fishermen mentioned expenses on crew and marketing as part of their fishing expenses. Since not all bancas operated by the fishermen are motorized, not all of them reported fuel as part of their usual expenses. If the bancas are not motorized, they could not go very far, therefore they do not need ice to keep their catch fresh.
Those who mentioned fuel, food, and ice as part of their usual expenses stated that the mean fuel cost per fishing trip is P70.12. This however, has a large standard deviation (P72.55) which indicates that the volume of fuel consumption among the 36 fishermen varies greatly. In fact, the median expenses on fuel (P40.00) is only 57 percent of the mean expense. The total expense of 9 or 35 percent of the 26 fishermen (P1,340) is 2.77 times more than that of the remaining 17 or 65 percent of the fishermen (P483). The mean expense on food for the 40 fishermen for each fishing trip is P6.08. As with the expense on fuel, the standard deviation of the expense on food is large (6.86). The food expense of the middle 50 percent ranges only from 3.00 to P5.00.
The number of fishermen who mentioned fuel as part of their usual fishing-related expense (26) approximates the number of those who mentioned ice (27) also as part of their expense. The mean expense on ice is P4.00 while its standard deviation is P2.88. The median expense (P3.00) is lower. Two-thirds of those who spend on ice, spend P4.00 and below.
For most of the fishermen (87.3 percent), the catch is for sale as well as consumption. For 11.1 percent of them, the catch is only for sale. The average percentage of the catch set aside for consumption is 9.15 percent with a standard deviation of 6.55 percent. The middle 50 percent set aside from 5 percent to 10 percent of their catch for consumption. The average percentage of the catch set aside for sale is 89.9 percent with a standard deviation of 12.41 percent. The middle 50 percent set aside from 80 percent to 97 percent of their catch for sale. Selling is done mainly by the fishermen themselves (86.4 percent), while some (11.9 percent) let their wives do it for them. The rest specified that they let their children take care of the selling.
The most popular selling place of the catch is the fish landing. Among the fishermen who sell their catch, 79.31 percent do the selling at the fish landing. The rest sell theirs either at the market in their barangay (5.17 percent), at sea (6.90 percent), or at the market in the poblacion (3.45 percent). Some of them (5.17 percent) sell their catch outside the poblacion. The reasons why the fishermen sell their catch in their chosen place is in rank order, as follows: suki (regular customer), better price, and convenience. Most of the fishermen (87.93 percent) sell their catch to a middleman. Others sell theirs directly to consumers (5.2percent), to final sellers (1.72 percent), and other buyers (5.2 percent).
Among the 100 fishermen, only 44 are aware of the availability of credit for fishing-related loans. According to about two-thirds (67.6 percent) of the latter group this credit is available from a private individual. The government as a source of credit was mentioned by only 10.8 percent of the fishermen; the rest mentioned relatives (8.11 percent) and other sources (13.5 percent). Of the 44 fishermen who are aware of the availability of credit, 81.8 percent availed of the loans. This could mean that had the same information been available to the other fishermen, borrowing should have been more brisk.
Organizational Participation
Membership in community organizations is limited. This is understandable considering fishermen are at sea 9.8 hours a day on the average. The greater portion of this time falls at night which means they get very little sleep at night, if at all. During the day they have to attend to their banca and fishing gears. Since they also have to get their sleep during the day, they have very little time to spare for organizational activities. Primarily because of time constraint, only 16% of the fishermen are presently members of community organizations. The rest are non-members and do not wish to join one. They refused to discuss hypothetical situations on what organization they would join if they had the time because they see this possibility as too remote. When asked about the number of meetings held by the organization in the past six months, the fisher men gave answers that ranged from as low as one to as many as 20. The total number of meetings held, however, came to 67 with a median of three. Of the 67 meetings, fishermen claimed to have attended a total of 52. The mean number of meetings each fisherman has attended is four. The standard deviation (4.66 percent) is greater; the median is only two meetings.
More than one of every five of the fishermen (21.4 percent) is presently holding a position in an organization Considering the officer-to-member ratio in most community organizations, one could say that the number of officers among the fishermen is fair enough. Fishermen’s participation in the activities of the organization is also fairly satisfactory; 71.4 percent said they participate in the activities of their organization. No one said he is inactive in his organization four said they are very active, six said they are active, and the rest said they are slightly active in their organization.
Awareness of and Attitude Towards Government Projects
Because the fishermen have limited time to be adequately observant or because there are in fact very few projects undertaken by the government in the community, only 51 percent of the fishermen said they are aware of a government project existing in their community. The other 49 percent said they could not recall any project the government is presently undertaking. When asked what government project they were aware of, three were mentioned: Kilusang Kabuhayan at Kauntaran (KKK), Biyayang-Dagat, and Development Bank of the Philippines projects. Of these 51 fishermen, 56.9% are aware of the Biyayang-Dagat project of the government; slightly fewer (or 51 percent) are aware of the KKK project; and only 2 percent are aware of a DBP project. Only 24 percent of those who are aware of the Biyayang-Dagat project are actual beneficiaries of this project.
The general attitude of the fishermen toward government projects is non-committal or indifference. The average number of the respondents who chose not to take sides on the issues presented to them (49.5 percent) exceeds the number of both those who expressed a positive attitude (21.1 percent) and those who expressed a negative attitude (29.5 percent). There are as many fishermen who think that, by and large, government programs and projects serve only the interest of a few organized groups rather than that of private citizens in their individual or personal capacities and that these programs/projects are insensitive to the needs of the ordinary citizens.
Another issue presented to the fishermen concerned the right of the government to engage in any activity and program affecting the lives of the citizens. Again, there are more fishermen who preferred no to take sides (53 percent), than those expressed either a favorable (15 percent) or unfavorable opinion (32 percent). The number of fishermen who thinks the government is trying to do too many things including some activities or program think the government has no right to do is slightly more (32 percent) than twice the number of fishermen who think otherwise (15 percent).
The mean proportion of fishermen who prefer not to take sides regarding issues related to government programs.projects is 49 percent. This is reflective of their indifference toward the government in general. As regards those who expressed a definite stand, the fishermen tend to have an unfavorable rather a favorable attitude.
Need, Aspirations, Perceptions
The overall perception of the fishermen on life as a whole is good. A large proportion of the fishermen (95 percent) found themselves in a position to evaluate their life as a whole, in contrast to their tendency to be indifferent ir unwilling to express attitudes towards government programs/projects. Of these 95 fishermen, the number of those who said they are happy (81) outnumber those who said they are unhappy (14) by a ratio of 1 is to 5.78. This overall positive perception on life as a whole is supported by the trend of their evaluation of where they stand in a 10-step ladder where one’s life is depicted as improving with every upward step. While all 100 fishermen found no problem in identifying where they stood in the ladder five years ago and where they stand at present, seven chose no to identify where they will be standing in this ladder five years from now. The major reason given was the future is too uncertain to allow them to more or less accurately know whether life would be better or worse.
The mean step the other fishermen see themselves in this ladder five years hence (4.43) is 1.48 and 0.81 steps higher than the mean steps they see themselves standing five years ago and now, respectively. The median step five years hence (5) is also higher than the median step five years ago and now three and two steps respectively.
While the average fishermen does not see himself at the middle of this social ladder even five years from now, the trend as to where he finds himself to be standing in this ladder for a ten-year period is indicative of the hope he has of ultimately being able to finally improve his overall living condition. This positive outlook is further supported by the fisherman’s feelings about his overall ability to satisfy the wants and needs of his family. Of the 86 fishermen who answered this item, 93 percent said they are happy, and only 7 percent said they are unhappy.
The fishermen see themselves and government as playing important roles in their move up the social ladder. Slightly more than three-fourths (76.6 percent) of the fishermen consider themselves capable of improving the living conditions of their families. Slightly fewer (74 percent) said the government can do something to improve their lives.
For more specific indications of the fishermen’s perception on life, they were asked how they consider their meal intake a day before the interview and the floor area of their present residence. Again, the fishermen signified their satisfaction by saying that their meal intake was enough (96 percent), and the the floor area of their residence is adequate for their family (98 percent). when asked whether they consider themselves poor or not, 12 percent said they are not poor, 25 percent said they are poor, and the rest (63 percent) said they are neither.
The fishermen are in agreement regarding the importance of such values as a comfortable life, sense of accomplishment, family security, self respect, social recognition, and salvation. When asked to rate these values according to how important in their life they consider them to be, the fishermen’s first choice was family security. They gave the same rating to comfortable life and salvation, while sense of accomplishment was rated last.
The average amount of money that the fishermen consider as enough for the monthly needs of their family so that they could not considered poor is P552.00. This amount, however, has large standard deviation (P382.90). The extent of the variation could arise from variation in family size and personal aspirations. The highest ambition of the fishermen for their children is that they finish college and eventually land a stable job; this was the choice of 77 percent of the fishermen. That they help in catching fish is the desire of only 11.1 percent that they have a happy married life was given by only 4.9 percent.
The North Cotabato Rural Enterprise Development Program (NCREDP)
Introduction
In response to the need to improve the quality of life of people in general and the parish-members in particular, the Diocese of Kidapawan (North Cotabato) has launched a three-year development. program for five self-help community cooperatives, Formally launched in mid-1989, the North Cotabato Rural Enterprise Development Program (NCREDP) focuses on such specific thrusts as capability-building, self-reliance and self-determination through organizing, financial/credit assistance, technical assistance, crop insurance and marketing assistance.
As part of its three-year program design, the Diocese has identified the need for a mid-term evaluation, i.e. after one-and-a-half years of implementation as a gauge of the performance and status of the program relative to the objectives defined earlier; hence this study.
Objectives of the Study
The study has the following objectives:
1. to identify the strengths and weaknesses of the project vis-a-vis objectives set,
2. to identify and assess the effectivity of the strategies and approaches used in the program,
3. to determine the program’s impact on capital build up, participation of beneficiaries in program decision-making and planning processes, and beneficiaries’ participation in their respective organization/cooperative,
4. to determine other factors affecting program performance (e.g. effectiveness of delivery structure vis-a-vis the receiving structure), and
5. to formulate recommendations to improve the project schemes.
Significance of the Study
The results of the study hope to provide development planners and workers of the agency-implementor knowledge on the status of the development program. Such information would likewise serve as a guide for the program workers to improve, strengthen or modify certain aspects of their performance to effectively deliver services to the beneficiaries. This will also provide the basis for reviewing existing policies, procedures and strategies so that appropriate changes or modifications may be made to improve program-implementation for the remainder of the grant-period and even beyond.
Methodology
The data collection activities consist of two distinct components. The first involves secondary data-collection, i.e. review of the records of the agency-implementor and the five self-help cooperatives. This provides information on the performance of the cooperatives relative to the program objectives. The second component includes the interviews of 150 farmer-beneficiaries (i.e. a quota of 30 beneficiaries per cooperative), which is deemed necessary as a feedback-mechanism on the strategies of the program implementation.
A structured survey instrument was used in data collection focusing on the following main variables:
I. Farm Data
II. Farm Practices
III. Production Data
IV. Post harvest facilities
V. Participation
VI. Income and Savings
VII. Comments and Recommendations for the Cooperatives
Data Analysis
The descriptive research adopted univariate tables, percentage analysis and measures of central tendency such as means and modes in the data analysis.
Accomplishments of the Five Self-Help Cooperatives Vis-a-Vis the Program Objectives
Financial Assistance
The program has extended loan assistance to farmer-beneficiaries in the five self-help cooperatives under the Diocese of Kidapawan. A total of 391 and 458 farmer-beneficiaries received production loans during the program’s Phase H (April 1900 to September 1900) and Phase III (September 1990 to December 1990) cropping periods, respectively.
Based on a review of records submitted to the Social Action Office of the Diocese of Kidapawan, a total of P1,113,276.38 worth of loans was extended to the farmer-beneficiaries, with 94 percent (P1,046,422.31) of this amount collected during Phase II. Such a total incurred an interest of P92,850.75, of which 89.4 percent (P82,676.76), representing interest-payments, has been collected (Table 2).
All the M’lang farmer-beneficiaries have paid back their loans, along with the interest incurred. Matalam beneficiaries ranked second with an 89 percent collection rate, while New Cebu registered the lowest interest collection (72.2%).
During Phase III of the Project-cycle (September 1990 – December 1990), the number of farmer-beneficiaries increased by 17.1 percent (or an addition of 67 farmer-beneficiaries) from Phase II. Likewise, the amount of loans extended and the interest-payments increased. However, the collection performance appeared to be lower than that of Phase II. Of the total amount of loans (P1,599,598.46) extended to the beneficiaries, post-harvest collections were recorded at 77 percent (P1,239,789.07). The total amount of P109,780.56 (79.8%) was collected from from the aggregate loan interest due (P137,632.51). The M’lang cooperative indicated the highest amount of loan-collections (96% or P31 8,870.1 6) and interest-payments (98% or P32,930.13) with Antipas the lowest in the collection of loans (62%) and in interest-payments (46%).
Reviewing the targets identified prior to the start of the program, it was envisioned that assistance would be extended to 550 farmer-beneficiaries at the end of the three-year grant-period. After one-and-a-half years of the program, the mid-term review revealed that the cooperatives had already extended financial assistance to 458 farmers, representing 83.3 percent of the targeted 550 farmer-beneficiaries at the end of three years. Given the target of 110 farm-beneficiaries per cooperative, Magpet and New Cebu revealed the highest number of farmer-beneficiaries extended financial assistance (89.1 % each) with Antipas the lowest (67.3%).
Five Self-Help Cooperatives. The program envisioned that each of the five self-help cooperatives would generate at least a capital build-up (CBU) of P690,000 at the end of the three-year period. Given such an amount, it was assumed that each of the five self-help cooperatives should have generated at least P345,000 halfway through the program implementation. However, the records review proved otherwise. Given the assumed CBU of P345,000 that should have been generated after one-and-a-half years, New Cebu indicated the highest amount of capital build-up generated (67.5% or P232,763.66) with Matalam, the lowest (17.6% or P60,737.93). The CBU generated by the five self-help cooperatives increased two-fold, i.e. approximately 109.45 percent from the baseline level. New Cebu showed the highest increase (508.57%) with Matalam, the lowest (2.95%).
Given the financial assistance to individual farmers, the program likewise envisioned that at the end of the program, each farmer-beneficiary would have generated a CBU of at least P4,500 or approximately P2,250 as of the mid-term review, i.e. after 1.5 years of the program. The records indicated a total of 458 farmer-beneficiaries who had been extended financial assistance. However, 55.7 percent (or 255 farmer-beneficiaries) have contributed a total of P189,924.01 (or an average of P744.80 per beneficiary) out of the CBU due (P393,750). The data likewise revealed that Magpet collected the highest amount of CBU (P65,829.07) with Antipas, the least (P4,350).
Given the assumed amount of CBU of P2,250.00 that should have been generated after one-and-a-half years of program implementation, the records revealed that 13 out of 255 farmers indicated payment of CBUs equal to or greater than P2,250.00. Among these 13 beneficiaries, 8 were farmers from Magpet, 3 from New Cebu, 1 each from Matalam and M’lang. The rest (242 out of 255 farmer beneficiaries) have a CBU of less than P2,250.00. The minimal amount of CBU collected could perhaps be attributed to the low production (and correspondingly minimal harvests) as a result of the long drought period in Southeastern Mindanao from late 1990 to the second quarter of 1991.
Trainings
To appropriately equip the coop leaders with management skills for their cooperatives, various training activities were conducted by the implementing agency with the assistance of Consortium for the Development of Southeastern Mindanao Cooperatives, Inc. (CDSMC) and Gagmay’ng Kristohanong Katilingban-Kidapawan Foundation, Inc. (GKK-KFI). These include, among others, programs focusing on “Organizational and Basic Cooperative Management”, “Enterprise Management”, “Leadership”, “Community Organizing”, “Financial Management”, and “Credit and Marketing Operations”. Based on the available records, findings indicated that the trainings conducted for the coop leaders included sessions on “Bookkeeping”, “Basic Management”, “Consumer Management”, “Marketing Management”, “Financial Management”, “Savings and Credit Management”, “Trainor’s Trainings”, “Audit and Inventory”, and “Basic Accounting”. The trainings conducted most often (7 sessions) for the coop leaders were on bookkeeping skills, followed by those on “Marketing Management”, “Financial Management”, “Trainor’s Trainings” and “Audit and Inventory” (5 sessions each). The “Basic Management”, “Consumer Management”, and “Savings and Credit Management” were conducted four times.
The cooperatives in Matalam and Antipas reported having undergone training on bookkeeping twice while those in the other survey sites indicated having participated in all other training activities at least once.
The number of coop leader-participants ranged from 3 to 28 participants during the different training-sessions conducted. The “Trainor’s Training Activity” had a total of 28 participants, followed by bookkeeping (17 participants) and financial management (12 participants). The session on “Basic Accounting” registered the lowest number of participants, mainly in Antipas (3 participants). Almost all the trainings were conducted in the cooperatives in all the survey sites. To insure proper farm management and increased production among the farmer-beneficiaries, several trainings were likewise designed under the Program, specifically focusing on “Appropriate/Production Farm Technologies and Management”, “Value Formation”, “Budgeting”, “Cooperatives”, and “Small Business Enterprise”. The records reviewed revealed that at least 11 trainings were conducted among the farmer-beneficiaries, with those on “Farm Management and Family Budgeting” being the two most widely conducted (15 sessions), followed by “Rapid Composting”, including demonstration, (10 sessions). “Rice Culture Management and Health Seminars” and “Biospray Sessions” appeared to be the least often conducted (once each). The cooperative in Matalam conducted the highest number of trainings (9 types of trainings) with Antipas, the lowest (4 types of trainings).
The number of farmer-beneficiaries participating in the different training activities varied widely, from as low as 7 to as high as 374 farmer-participants. “Farm Management and Family Budgeting” had the highest number of participants (374), with “Rice Culture Management and Health Seminar”, the least (7).
Health related seminars were integrated in the various training sessions. The production loan schemes under the program primarily reduced the opportunities for exploitation of these farmers by unscrupulous traders. The scheme provided a maximum cash loan of P3,000 per hectare per cropping at 8 percent interest-rate (or a monthly average of 2 percent). Such an interest was much lower vis-a-vis the interest charged by the local traders which, as revealed in the 1989 baseline survey, ranged from 11.95 percent to 25.41 percent per month.
However, it is interesting to note the comments of the coop managers, during the focus group discussion, that most of the farmers deliver only the required number of kilos of their produce representing their loan-payments and the required forced savings to the cooperative. The remaining portion of their produce was subsequently delivered to the traders as payment for their outstanding loans, e.g. cash-advances for educational purposes and purchase of consumer-items during the cropping period. The baseline survey revealed that only the Magpet coop has been registered with RCDAO. As of the mid-term program review, the number of registered cooperatives increased to four, with Matalam, M’lang and Antipas likewise acquiring their “legal personalities”. The application of the New Cebu cooperative is currently being processed.
As of the mid-term program review, two meetings have been conducted to discuss the possibility of establishing a federation among the five self-help cooperatives. The first meeting focused on explaining the “Federation” concept and clarifying their various expectations from such a federation. The members present likewise drafted the proposed name of the federation, i.e. “Mindanao Inter-trading for Coop” which was subsequently changed to “Cotabato-Davao Sur Federation of Coop, Inc.” during the second meeting. To facilitate the operation of the federation, the five self-help cooperatives agreed to provide financial contributions.
Number of “Seldas” (Cells) Organized. As part of the program objectives, the coop-beneficiaries organized the farmer-members into seldas (cells). These were suppose to endorse the loan applications of its members to the coop loan officer and serve as a mechanism for the collection of loan payments. However, these functions were never realized for the seldas were mainly utilized as venues for training.
Except for M’lang, a total of 51 “seldas” were organized with Magpet having organized the highest number (19) and Matalam, the lowest (10).
*During the focus group discussion conducted by the research team with the five coop managers in July 13, 1992, M’lang mentioned that in the first year of the program they had organized the farmer-workers into seldas, however, these were later organized into Gagmayang Kristolianong Katitingban (otherwise known as the GKK).
Coop membership was generally of two types, i.e. individual and group membership. Except for M’lang, which reported membership by groups, the cooperatives from Matalam, Magpet, Antipas and New Cebu had primarily individual members. The mid-term program review indicated an over-all increase in the coop membership, both among individuals and groups. Magpet indicated the highest increase in individual membership (230.2%), while New Cebu, the lowest (14.9%). M’lang showed a 9.9 times increase (990.079) in their group membership. Generally, the individual and group members increased by 44.9 percent and 10.04 times increase (1,004.5%) from the baseline level, respectively.
All the cooperatives reported increases in the capital shares of their members. Generally, the members’ capital shares increased nearly four times (P331,450.72). New Cebu revealed the highest increase (674.32%) in members’ capital share and Matalam, the lowest (179.55%) from the baseline level.
The current assets likewise revealed significant increases. New Cebu showed 28 times increase (2750.5%) in current assets (P1,959,237.59) compared to its baseline level (P68,733.30%). M’lang showed the lowest increase in current assets (49.9%). (The change in Matalam’s current assets could not be determined as it was not clear in the financial statements submitted. Likewise, the financial statement of Matalam followed a different format from those of the other four cooperatives).
Similar trends in the current assets were observed in the total assets of the five self-help cooperatives. New Cebu indicated the highest, a 17 times increase (1654.1% or P1,771,482.45) from the baseline level (P100,989.57), with M’lang, the lowest (P37%). Matalam had no available records on total assets.
Of the five self-help cooperatives, M’lang and New Cebu indicated positive change in net income from the baseline level. M’lang indicated nearly a 500-fold increase (49,859.9% or P35,875,416) from the baseline level (P71,809.75), while New Cebu increased 8.5 times (786.3%) from the baseline level (P2,866.85).
Among those with negative changes in net income from the baseline level to mid-term review, Antipas registered the highest decrease at P28,197.69 (88.2%) from baseline level (P31,234) with Magpet, the lowest (8.7% or P692.32).
Cooperative Operational Activities. The five self-help cooperatives indicated expansions in their operations, relative to what had been stated in the baseline survey. These expansions could perhaps be due to the financial assistance provided by the program. The financial assistance made it possible for the cooperatives to increase their capital output, thus expanding their operations. Matalam started as a consumer coop and eventually expanded to merchandising, marketing, and production credit while Magpet initially engaged in merchandising, marketing and consumers credit and subsequently provided savings and production credit. New Cebu concentrated on consumers credit and savings and production credit while M’lang engaged in production credit and livestock-marketing. Antipas focused solely on loan-assistance.
Marketing linkages. To reduce the “exploitative clout” wielded by the local traders on the farmers, the cooperatives provided marketing assistance for the farmers’ produce. All the self-help cooperatives have thus established marketing linkages with the National Food Authority. Matalam, on the other hand, likewise established marketing linkages with big traders in Digos (Davao del Sur) and Kidapawan, North Cotabato. Antipas has similarly established such linkages with the Sta. Catalina Multipurpose Cooperative, Inc. (SCMPC) and Chinese traders in Davao City.
The role of post-harvest facilities is deemed crucial in uplifting the income-status of farmer-members, as the presence or absence of such facilities affects their decisions on “where” and “when” to sell their farm produce. The focus group discussion *revealed that four of the five self-help cooperatives have post-harvest facilities. M’lang has acquired a jeepney, two hauler-trucks (one “three-fourths” type and a 10-wheeler truck) and a solar dryer. Antipas reported having a hauler-truck (a “three-fourths” type). The Magpet and New Cebu cooperatives utilized the existing facilities of their parishes, i.e. the seminar house serves as a warehouse in Magpet, and the basketball court as “dryer” and the parish jeep as “hauler” in New Cebu. Matalam has sold its hauler-truck which was acquired in 1989 curing the baseline survey period.
Crop insurance was one form of governmental assistance extended to farmers whose crops were damaged as a result of natural calamities. This helped the farmers recuperate from their financial losses on the crops planted. At the start of the program, i.e. the “first cropping”, the number of farmer-beneficiaries applying ‘or the insurance ranged from 5 percent
*Conducted with the managers of the 5 self-help cooperatives and the project manager and two project technicians on July 13, 1991 at De Mezenod Seminar House, Kidapawan, North Cotabato. (Magpet) to 100 percent (New Cebu, Antipas and M’lang), with 85 percent of Matalam farmer-beneficiaries insured. However, on the succeeding cropping schedules, the farmer-beneficiaries from Matalam, Magpet, New Cebu and Antipas did not insure their crops, given their previous experience on delayed payment-releases of the insurance agency.
The results of the focus group discussion revealed that three of the five self-help cooperatives reported savings deposits of their members over and above the forced savings required by the program. Such savings deposits were true for Antipas, Matalam and New Cebu. Matalam had 10 depositors; New Cebu, 9; and Antipas,8.
The savings deposits ranged from as low as P50.00 to as high as P26,287.59. The total amount of savings deposits was P70,432 or an average of P2,608.60 per depositor. Matalam reported the highest savings deposits (P41,848.68 or an average of P4,1 88.4 7 per depositor) and New Cebu, the lowest (P9,798.06 or an average of P1,088.67 per depositor). Antipas has a total of P18,749.40 worth of savings deposits.
Mean Gross Farming Income Per Hectare Per Cropping. The total mean gross farming income per hectare during the Phase III cropping under the project was P8,827.73 or P2,106.93 monthly. M’lang revealed the highest mean gross farming income (P15,797.93) with Matalam, the lowest (P5,585). The mean total figure generally decreased when compared to baseline findings (P10,664). Only M’lang showed an increase in mean gross farming income (P15,797.93 or P3,949.48 a month) vis-a-vis the baseline figure of P10,476 or P2,691 a month. The total mean net farming income per hectare was P3,422.24 with M’lang the highest (P7,481.57) and Matalam, the lowest (P2,165.49).
Generally, the mid-term review revealed that the total mean net farming income per hectare (P3,422.24 or P855.56 a month) was slightly higher than the baseline figure (P2,91 6). Only M’lang (P7,481.57) and New Cebu (P3,112.25) showed increases relative the baseline data (P1,169 and P1,784, respectively).
The low income performance of the cooperatives in gross mean farming income and mean net farming income could be due to the long hot season during the Phase III cropping period, i.e. from September 1990 to the early part of the second quarter of 1991. This situation likewise increased farming expenses of the farmers, resulting in greater operational expenses than the projected income by the farmers for that season. More than half (165 out of 365) of the farmers who received financial assistance indicated decreases in their incomes from the previous cropping (Phase II). Generally, the total decrease in income from the previous cropping was 101.4 percent. Antipas and Matalam (117.9%) showed the largest amount of decrease in net farming income vis-a-vis the baseline data. Magpet (49.5%) had the lowest mean net farming income per hectare. All the farmer-beneficiaries from Antipas indicated decreases in mean net farming income.
Status of the Five Cooperatives
San Vicente Ferrer Consumers Cooperative, Inc. (Antipas). It has transferred to a new location given its newly-constructed building in November 1990 which serves as its office, store and warehouse. It has likewise purchased a hauling truck and hired seven additional staff members.
San Jose Katilingban Consumers Cooperative, Inc. (Magpet). Under a new manager, it has hired a posting clerk who assists in the financial recording requirements of the coop. Its merchandise and farm inputs are secured from Kidapawan. Marketing activity is hampered due to the delayed payments of the National Food Authority (NFA) for the farmers’ produce. This partly explains the tendency of farmers to sell some of their produce to local traders.
Matalam Sto. Nino Consumers Cooperative, Inc. (Matalain). It has transferred to its new location at the public market in response to the members’ demand to make the coop accessible to the public, i.e. near transportation facilities. However, the buying station for the farmers’ produce, i.e. the parish, is approximately less than a kilometer away from the coop itself. Local traders remain the sole source of the coop’s merchandise goods. A fast turn-over of staff was likewise noted due to the limited cooperation and internal conflicts arising among the members. A related observation was the insufficient capital available for the immediate cash requirements of the farmers upon delivery of their produce to the coop. This has subsequently caused the farmers to decide to sell only a portion of their produce to the coop, i.e. just enough to pay the loans availed of and the capital build-up requirements which, in turn, limits the earning capacity of the coop members themselves. The coop likewise acquired a piece of land for its future development.
M’Iang Multi-purpose Cooperative, Inc. (M’lang). This coop was noted as the biggest rice supplier to the National Food Authority (NFA). The coop has also availed of financial support from the Quedan Financing Program for its marketing activities, the Land Bank for its production capital and the M’lang Parish for the expansion of the solar dryer constructed within the parish premises. It has also acquired a jeepney as an additional transportation facility for hauling activities, aside from the existing hauling truck. The jeepney was also used for hauling and delivering the coop merchandise goods. An organization of coop outlets has been established on the church-based “GKK-level” which increased the membership and capital build-up funds of the cooperative.
Farmers’ Service Cooperative, Inc. (New Cebu). Though it still has to register with the Cooperative Development Authority (CDA), its Farmers Organization has been registered with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) as of October 3, 1990. It has an additional four staff members, three of whom are involved with the marketing department and the fourth with the production department. Its purchasing capacity and the services provided the members have improved due to additional capital funds secured from the GKK-Kidapawan Foundation, Inc. and the Farmers Organization. To assist farmer-beneficiaries in increasing their capital shares, the coop has initiated a collection of P0.10 per kilo of rice or corn sold to the coop by the members.
Survey of the Beneficiaries
This portion presents the survey findings based on the interviews of 150 beneficiaries as a feedback mechanism on the accomplishments of the cooperatives relative to the implementation plan of the NCREDP. Specifically, it discusses farm data, farm practices, production, post-harvest facilities, marketing, technical assistance received, trainings attended, loan assistance, participation, income and savings, including their comments and recommendations on the cooperatives.
Number of Hectares Presently Cultivated. The average number of hectares cultivated today are generally higher than those in 1989. The number of hectares currently cultivated by the respondents range, on the average, from 1.3 hectares (M’lang) to 2.68 hectares (Antipas), with the over-all average of 2.0 hectares across the five survey sites.
The farmers in four survey-sites generally cultivate medium-sized areas ranging from 1.5 to 2.4 hectares, e.g. in Matalam (60%), in New Cebu (50%), in Antipas (43.3%), and in Magpet (50%). M’lang farmers, on the other hand, work on smaller farm-sizes i.e. with 67 percent cultivating from one-half to one-and-a-half hectares at present.
Number of Hectares Previously Cultivated. The computed average number of hectares previously cultivated ranged from a minimum of 1.3 hectares (in M’lang) to a maximum of 2.28 hectares (in New Cebu), with the over-all average at 1.89 hectares for all survey areas.
However, when asked whether they have expanded the areas they have cultivated between then and now, the majority (82%) replied in the negative, with those saying yes (18%) increasing at an average of 1.2 hectares for all the sites. The lowest averages (1.2 hectares each) were recorded in Matalam and in Magpet, while the highest average (1.7 hectares) was registered in New Cebu.
What crops are presently planted in the five survey-sites relative to those planted in 1989? Are these farmers engaged in mono-cropping or multi-cropping systems? Survey results closely parallel findings in the 1989 baseline survey, with the farmer-respondents engaged in corn (67.3%) and rice (46.7%) production.
The extent of multiple responses given by the respondents in the various survey sites serves as a rough indicator as to the extent of multiple-cropping activities by these farmers. While the majority (6.37%) were engaged in corn, the respondents likewise planted rice and other minor crops (e.g. rubber, coffee, bananas, mangos).
For one, Matalam farmers appeared to be the most varied, i.e. planting corn (87%) and rice (32.3%), not to mention mongo and peanuts. Antipas farmers similarly planted various crops. While all the respondents were engaged in corn production, some of them likewise mentioned rice (23%), coffee and rubber (10% each) and coconut and cacao (3% each). On the other hand, farmers in New Cebu appear to have concentrated mainly on both in corn (60%) and rice (63%), as no other crops were mentioned.
The areas planted to rice, on the other hand, are predominantly small, with 70 percent of the farmer-respondents cultivating from .5 to 1.4 hectares and a limited group (20.3%) working on areas ranging from 1.5 to 2.4 hectares.
Fertilizer Usage. Except for one farmer in M’lang, all the respondents admitted using fertilizers in their farms, mainly urea (92%) and the ammonium sulfate (88%). Other varieties mentioned – though a much lesser extent – were complete (14-14-14) (12.2%), algafer (1.3%), Nuvacron (0.7%), Potash (0.7%), and Agrowell (0.7%). Percentage-wise, the fertilizer usage was higher (99.3%) than the baseline findings (91.3%). This situation could be due to the production loan scheme where the farmer-beneficiaries were obliged to avail of the fertilizers from the cooperatives.
Survey findings revealed the high level of assistance extended by the cooperative for the fertilizer users, with 93 percent of the respondents availing of fertilizers from the cooperatives. Ten farmer-respondents reported securing their fertilizers solely from traders with one availing from both. These data reversed the baseline findings where fertilizers were usually sourced from the local traders.
The fertilizer purchases from the coop were mainly made due to the members’ existing loan-arrangements (65%). Some respondents simply noted that they were “coop members” while others cited the low prices for fertilizers offered (25% each). On the other hand, those who purchased from traders (11 respondents) explained that they did so inasmuch as the fertilizers were not readily available in the coop (8 respondents). Other reasons mentioned included the purchases “being endorsed by the coop itself” and the lower prices offered by the traders (2 responses each).
The predominant problems cited by the respondents were primarily supply-related, i.e. irregular fertilizer stocks (25.2%) and delayed deliveries (8.6%). Others cited high prices (10.8%) and high transportation costs (9.4%). How did the members solve these problems? What options or alternatives were available to them? How did they cope, given such constraints? The solutions mentioned suggested a general sense of helplessness among these respondents (50%), i.e. that they could “only wait till the stocks are available” (44.6%) or “to follow-up coop stocks” (11%), not to mention being powerless with regards to the high transport and fertilizer costs (7 respondents).
Some respondents took more drastic steps over the lack of fertilizers, e.g. borrowing fertilizers from other traders at 20 percent interest (8 respondents or 12.3%) and “borrowing money to buy fertilizers” or “borrowing fertilizers from other members” (4 respondents each). Such behavior courses such as “Management and Educator’s Training”, “Consumer Management”, “Marketing and Financial Management”, and “Savings and Credit Management”. Other seminars conducted were: “Trainors Training”, “Farm Management Sessions”, and “Basic He eh and Nutrition Seminars”, including “Agricultural Training”, specifically on the technology of seed production and rapid composting for organic fertilizer production. Most of these trainings were held in the five area sites, except for the agricultural trainings, which were held only in Matalam, M’lang and New Cebu. Plans to cover the other areas are being made.
The Social Action Center (SAC) reports have been validated by asking respondents about their attendance in such trainings. About 90 percent claimed to have attended the trainings conducted by the cooperatives. Antipas had the best attendance (100%), followed by Matalam (86.7%). The “pre-membership seminars” were the most attended (70.4%), followed by farm management (37%), soil analysis (14.1%), production (11.1%), and rapid composting (8.1%).
One interesting thing to note is that while most of the trainings were on management skills, such activities were not mentioned by the farmer-respondents in the present study. (This might be explained by the possibility that such trainings were provided only for the staff and officers of the cooperatives). The trainings were perceived to be useful by most respondents (96.3%) because many of them learned about farm management (52.6%), the importance of the cooperatives (31.1%) and techniques in soil-analysis (14.8%).
Production Loan
Recognizing the financial constraints of the small-scale farmer-beneficiaries, the cooperatives have provided credit arrangements to help solve their farm-related problems. A loan of p3,000 per hectare per beneficiary could be availed of by the coop-members upon compliance with the various requirements of the cooperatives for such loans. This scheme, likewise aimed at minimizing the usual exploitative relationships between the usually cash-strapped farmers and the usurious traders. This section thus presents the beneficiaries’ knowledge of the requirements of the cooperatives relative to loan assistance.
All the respondents were aware of the requirements for availing of the production loan from their cooperatives. While 14 different loan requirements were identified, foremost mentioned was the “accomplishment of forms” (40.7%). The second most mentioned requirement (30%) was the P500 minimum capital-share per member (particularly by those in M’lang and New Cebu). Approximately a fifth (20.7%) recognized the need to attend the “pre-membership seminars” (PMS). The need to deposit at least five sacks of the produce, representing “forced savings”, was similarly mentioned (16.7%).
The respondents were subsequently asked to rate their participation in the cooperative activities, i.e. whether they were “active”, “very active” or not active”. The majority rated themselves positively, i.e. either “active” (68.7%) or “very active” (29.3%).
The respondents claimed to have participated in 15 different coop activities though in varying degrees. Among those popularly mentioned activities, based on free recall, were attendance in general assemblies (57.3%), meetings (55.3%), and pre-membership seminars (30.7%). (One notes, however, that specific activities related to decision-making and other more active forms of participation were not mentioned).
Assistance from Other Groups/Agencies
More than two-thirds (68.7%) of the respondents claimed that they had not received any assistance from other groups or agencies. Those who did (47 respondents) represented less than a third (31.1%) of the farmers covered for the study. M’lang respondents (66.7%) had the highest number receiving assistance from other agencies, while those from Antipas, the least (3.3%).
The majority, (44 out of 47 respondents) had availed of assistance under the “Rice Production Enrichment Program (otherwise known as RPEP) of the Department of Agriculture in the form of seeds and fertilizers. The same trends hold true for Matalam, M’lang, New Cebu and Magpet. (The influence of such extraneous forces or other intervening factors would have to be considered in evaluating the program at the end of the grant-period. Other types of assistance received included loans (4.3%), “Bigay ng Bayan” (2.1 %), water management (2.1%) and PRRM assistance (2.1%).
Income and Savings
This section presents the data on income and savings of the respondents, specifically: their savings, an analysis of farm income relative to family expenses, coping mechanisms for any losses in family income, changes in family income, utilization of any additional income, and perceptions about past and present incomes received.
“Savings” here refers to personal savings of the respondents other than the “forced” savings in the cooperatives. On the whole, only a few of the respondents (10%) engaged in any form of savings, with New Cebu indicating the highest number (16.7%) and both Antipas and Magpet, the lowest (6.7 each). Those who saved generally kept their savings in their houses (12 out of 15 respondents) with only 3 respondents (2 in Matalam and one in Antipas) having made bank-deposits.
Farm Income Relative to Family Expenditures. Asked about the adequacy of their income vis-a-vis family expenditures, more than two-thirds of the respondents (73.3%) reported that their farm income was not enough to cover family expenditures. On the other hand, close to one-fourth (23%) reported otherwise, with at least five respondents (3%) claiming that their farm income exceeded expenses (3.3%).
Those who noted that income was not enough to cover family expenses (110 respondents) mainly resorted to borrowing money from money lenders/friends/relatives (48.2%), selling backyard poultry and livestocks (45.5%), and selling backyard farm produce (19.1%). Borrowing money appeared to be the most popular alternative among the farmer-beneficiaries in Antipas (66.7%) and Magpet (56.5%) while those in New Cebu (70.8%) and M’lang (59.1%) mainly sold backyard livestock and poultry. The Matalam farmers either sold farm products. (45%) and animals (40%) or borrowed money (40%).
The majority (77.3%) of the respondents felt that there were changes in their income from 1989 to the present. The single biggest group who perceived such changes were the respondents from Matalam (76.7%). However, such changes were primarily decreases in income (63%), with less than a third (31 %) reporting gains in income. On the average, incomes increased by 38.6 percent, with the highest increases registered in M’lang (67.7%) and the lowest in New Cebu (19.1 %). Decreases in income, on the other hand, were computed at an average of 39.6 percent, with Antipas having the highest (53.6%) and Magpet, the lowest (29.3%). Generally, these figures confirmed the findings in chapter 2 regarding the increases and decreases in income of the farmer-members.
As noted earlier, 36 respondents reported income increases from 1989 to 1990. How did these farmers utilize such additional income? What were their immediate needs and priorities? Education appeared to be the highest priority, with close to half of the group (41.7%) using the money to pay for the tuition of their children. Similar trends can be observed in all the survey sites.
A final concern was to solicit these farmers’ perceptions about the status of their present farm income (as of 1990), relative to that received in 1989, by using a ten-point Cantrill ladder-scale. Step “1” in that scale signifies the lowest income possible while Step “10” signified the highest possible income they could attain. The respondents were asked to choose the appropriate step which would best describe their present income status relative to 1989. Considering the various changes in their farm income since 1989, the respondents generally perceived themselves to be on Step “4.4” on the ladder-scale as of 1990. Respondents from M’lang rated themselves the highest at Step “4.9” while those in Magpet on the average, rated themselves the lowest at Step “3.3”.
Comments and Recommendations for the Cooperatives
The comments and recommendations of the respondents for the cooperatives focused on the management, technical assistance, loan assistance, post-harvest facilities, training and technicians of the cooperatives.
Generally, the respondents believed in the proper management of the cooperatives (35.5%), that the technical assistance received helped them manage their farms properly (29.3%), and that the credit assistance helped reduce farm expenses (28%). At the same time, more than a third (36.7%) noted the absence of post harvest facilities like shellers, dryers, threshers, and warehouses. The trainings attended, on the other hand, were perceived to provide additional knowledge on proper farm management (24.7%). Please see Table 63 and Appendix A for the specific details in the survey sites.
Consistent with their perceptions, the respondents recommended that the cooperatives be continually managed properly (16.4%), that the provision of technical assistance should be sustained (41.8%), that the amount of loans available be increased (23.2%), and that more trainings be given to the members (71.4%). Not surprisingly, it was also recommended that cooperatives must have post-harvest facilities such as driers, haulers, shellers and warehouses (50.5%), that the cooperatives must have the proper technicians (37.3%), including an increase in their number (26.5%). Please see Table 64 and Appendix B for the specific detail in the survey sites.
Survey Findings
The farmer-respondents are currently cultivating an average of two hectares, a little bit higher than the land area previously cultivated (1.8 has.) Less than a fifth (18%) expanded land area cultivated at an average of 1..2 hectares. Corn (67.3%) and rice (46.7%) are the two most mentioned crops planted in 1.79 hectares and 1.38 hectares, respectively.
Almost all of the respondents claimed that they were using fertilizers (99.3%), primarily urea (92%) and ammonium sulfate (88%), from the cooperatives (92.6%). Such procurements were made under their coop loan arrangements (64.7%), aside from being coop members (24.5%). A significant number (60.4%) did not encounter any problem regarding their fertilizer supplies from cooperatives while those who did mentioned mainly irregular fertilizer stocks (25.2%).
There were fewer chemical-users among the respondents (52%), using mostly Azodrin (28.2%). Again, these were procured from the cooperatives (65.4%) because of their loan requirements (51.7%).
On the whole, close to two-thirds of the respondents (62.7%) were dependent on rainfall. The average farm-size cultivated was 1.88 hectares of rainfed corn areas. Rice-lands, on the other hand, were approximately 1.53 hectares (irrigated) and 1.02 hectares rainfed – on the average. They experienced at least two harvest seasons from October 1989 to December 1990 at an average of 56.64 sacks per harvest, with a computed. average of 52.83 kilos a sack. Corn was harvested approximately 2.02 times in the same period, at an average of 40.12 sacks of shelled corn per hectare, with a computed average of 70.98 kilos per sack.
More than half (51.3%) of the respondents were aware of the post-harvest facilities of the cooperatives through their general assemblies (64.9%). More than three-fourths (85.7%) of these used the facilities, mainly the trucks for hauling farm produce (98.5%). A little over three-fourths (75.8%) claimed that payments were made for using these facilities, particularly the trucks (98%). More than half (52%) noted problems regarding the use of these facilities, specifically the inadequate number of hauler trucks given the number of coop members to be served (46%). Again, the members concerned failed to do anything other than “just wait for the hauler” (52.8%).
The farm produce sold to the cooperatives (94%) represented their loan payments (63.3%). More than half (59.2%) of the corn farmers sold all their corn produce, while most of the rice farmers (45.0%) sold half of their rice produce. More than half of the respondents (60%) reported having encountered problems in selling their farm produce to cooperatives, foremost of which being the delayed remittance of payment (48.3%). The members appear to have had no other recourse except “to wait till the payment is released” (65.5%).
More than three-fourths (87%) of the respondents received technical assistance from the cooperatives, predominantly related to farm management (60.5%). Almost all (98.2%) considered the technical assistance useful, particularly with regard to farm management, which resulted in their improved production (50.9%). Less than a fifth (19.3%) claimed to have encountered problems related to technical assistance received – notably, the lack of technicians (68.2%). To solve the latter, a number of farmers (63.6%) sought the assistance of their peers.
The majority (90%) attended the seminars conducted by the cooperatives, particularly the “pre-membership seminars” (70.4%). These trainings were considered useful (96.3%), inasmuch as they were taught skills in proper farm management (52.6%).
All were aware of the cooperative loan requirements, mainly the accomplishment of forms (40.7%).
All the respondents claimed to have participated in the activities of the cooperatives, with more than half (68.7%) rating themselves “active” in such activities. The activities mostly participated in were general assemblies (57.3%) and meetings (55.3%).
Less than a third (31.3%) of the respondents claimed that they received assistance from other agencies, particularly the “Rice Production Enrichment Program” (RPEP) of the Department of Agriculture (93.6%).
A limited group (10%) reported having some form of personal savings, over and above the forced savings and savings deposits in the cooperative. Those who did, usually keep their savings at home.
Almost three-fourths (73.3%) of the respondents perceived their income as inadequate to cover family expenses. Such limitations were solved either by borrowing money from money lenders/ relatives/friends (48.2%) or by selling farm animals (45.5%).
More than three-fourths (77.3%) noted changes in their income from 1989 to 1990. More than half (69%) of those who did report noted income-decreases (at approximately 39.6%) while 31 percent perceived gains in income (roughly 38.6%). Those farmers whose incomes increased used the additional funds mainly for tuition (41.1%) and payment of outstanding loans (36.1%). Based on a ten-point ladder scale [from “minimum” to (1) to “maximum” (10)1, they generally perceived their farm income to be on “Step 4.5”.
Asked about their various perceptions on the cooperatives, the respondents commented that the cooperatives were properly managed (35.3%), that technical assistance was “good for it helped the members regarding proper farm management” (29.3%), that the loans helped reduce expenses for farm inputs (28%), that the cooperatives had limited post-harvest facilities (36.7%), and that the trainings provided additional knowledge on proper farm management (36.7%).
Recommendations were likewise solicited from the group. The most frequently cited recommendation focused on human resource development [e.g. more trainings for the members (71.4%), continuing technical assistance (41.8%) and more technicians for the members (37.3%)], more post-harvest facilities (50.5%), continuing loan assistance (36.3%) and the continued proper management of the cooperatives (16.4%).
Summary of Findings and Recommendations
The mid-term review revealed the various accomplishments of the five self-help cooperatives relative to the program objectives and baseline survey results.
The financial assistance provided to farmer-beneficiaries under the program appeared to be a major catalyst for these cooperatives’ achievements. It encouraged increases in coop membership, which, in turn,. increased the cooperatives’ CBU through the members’ share capital, and allowed them to engage in other cooperative-types of activities such as marketing, merchandising and production loans, thus increasing their earning capacity. These achievements likewise helped the cooperatives appreciate the need for building and strengthening linkages, not only for the development of the cooperatives themselves but for that of the individual members as well.
The achievements of the cooperatives vis-a-vis the program objectives were as follows:
1. More than three-fourths (85% or 458 farmer-members) of the targeted 550 farmer-members by the end of the program have been extended financial assistance by the cooperatives through the production loan scheme.
2. The repayment rate of loans availed of by the farmer-members is high, i.e. 89.4 percent and 80 percent in the second (Phase II) and third (Phase III) cropping periods, respectively. This was facilitated by the marketing assistance provided by the cooperatives for their members and the mechanism of deducting the loans and the interest incurred based on the crop-produce delivered to the coop.
3. The cooperatives doubled (109.45%) their capital build-up from the baseline level. This likewise indicated the increase in the capital build-up of the members. However, the CBUs generated by each of the five self-help cooperatives were less than the P345,000 that should have been generated for the coop and the P2,250 per member halfway through the program implementation. This situation could be due, as reported by the farmers, to their minimal production brought about by the long dry season from the last quarter of 1990 to the early part of the second quarter of 1991.
4. Community organizing appeared to be effective as indicated by the number of seldas organized (51 seldas); increases in the number of individual (44.9%) and group (1,004.5%) members from the baseline level, and the type and number of trainings conducted, including the number of coop-leaders and farmer-participants in these trainings. The seldas serve not only as a mechanism through which farmers’ solidarity has been fostered but likewise as a venue for the conceptualization of various viable income-generating projects, such as seed production and compact-farming, as indicated by some coops (e.g. Antipas and New Cebu). Likewise, it is interesting to note the comments of the coop managers that the seldas were not effective in their function as a pressure group for members in loan repayments.
5. The collateral-free and low-interest loan assistance provided for the farmer-beneficiaries appears to have reduced the opportunities for exploitation of the farmers by unscrupulous traders. As indicated by survey results, 94 percent of the respondents sold their produce to the cooperatives, while 92.6 percent acquired fertilizers and 65.4 percent acquired chemicals directly from the cooperatives. However, it is interesting to note that, during the mid-term review period, most of the farmers delivered only the required number of kilos of their produce to the coop, representing loan payments and forced savings. The remaining portion of the farm produce was delivered to the local traders as payment for their outstanding cash-loans. Such practices will hopefully diminish as the coop loan-assistance program is strengthened in the coming years, with corresponding reduced roles of local traders.
6. At least four of the five cooperatives have been duly registered during the review-period. Such requirements are necessary should the cooperatives decide to secure funds from other funding agencies.
7. The federation of the five self-help cooperatives has been conceptualized and is presently accumulating financial capital necessary for its initial marketing activities.
8. The five cooperatives registered varying net-income figures. M’lang and New Cebu revealed a tremendous increase in income (49.859% and 786.3%, respectively) while Matalam, Magpet and
Antipas reported income decreases (72.2%, 8.7% and 88.2%, respectively).
Despite the adverse effects of the long dry season experienced by the farmer-members, M’lang – a lowland, rice-producing and irrigated municipality – reported income increases which could be attributed to the additional financial assistance acquired from the Quedan Financing Program and Land Bank.
On the other hand, the income-increases in New Cebu could perhaps be attributed to their collection of P0.10 per kilo of rice or corn sold by the members to the coop as a marketing service fee. Meanwhile, the upland corn-producing municipality of Antipas, Magpet and Matalam were adversely affected by the drought, resulting in decreases in farmers’ income. This consequently affected the capability of the members to increase farm production and to repay their loans, including the interest incurred from such loans.
The minimal production income discouraged the farmer beneficiaries from availing of crop insurance from Philippine Crop Insurance Corporation (PCIC), aside from the high cost of insurance and the delayed payment-releases for damaged crops by PCIC.
All of these affected the earning capacity of the members.
9. The post harvest facilities made available to the farmer-members were mainly limited to truck-haulers. 10. Only 2.4% (27 out of 1,107 members) are reported to have savings deposits in the cooperative, aside from the forced savings from each beneficiary.
Recommendations
The following recommendations are proposed for the cooperatives, including the program-implementor and the farmer-beneficiaries. 1. The cooperatives indicated significant achievements after one-and-a-half years of program implementation. This should be sustained by continuing the monthly project staff monitoring so that problems relative to improved coop management will be readily addressed.
2. The findings indicated that the collection on loans and loan-interest is generally high in Phase II and a bit lower in Phase HI due to the long drought season during this cropping period. It is then recommended that the current collection procedures be both sustained and improved to attain a 100 percent collection-rate. However, it is likewise necessary to require the “seldas” to plan and design various income-generating activities as secondary income sources for farmers’ households. This will not only provide the members a continuous source of income but will likewise provide additional funds for loan-payments, interests, and capital build-up requirements in case of crop failures caused by natural calamities. Furthermore, focus group discussions among program staff, coop leaders, and members serve as effective venues for sharing experiences, planning, and discussing effective program implementation strategies relative to collection procedures and coop management as a whole.
3. The collected capital build-up, both of the cooperatives and the members, falls below the P345,000 per cooperative and P2,250 per member that should have been generated halfway through the program implementation. This situation could perhaps be resolved if the seldas will be properly motivated to conceptualize and implement income-generating projects, given their existing skills and the available resources in their respective communities. They can venture into handicrafts or the manufacture of novelties and the like. Corresponding “environmental scanning” and “commodity-flow” studies may be undertaken by the cooperatives or federation to determine the feasibility of these industries relative to the availability of resources and marketing channels.
4. The high fertilizers (99.3%) and chemicals (52%) usage among the respondents, usually procured from the cooperatives (92.6% and 65.4%, respectively), are indicative of the effectiveness of the loan-program in re-directing the heretofore established relationships of the farmer-beneficiaries from the local traders to the cooperatives. The loan-assistance scheme should therefore be sustained to allow a fuller appreciation of the value and importance of patronizing the cooperatives by the farmer-beneficiaries. Such interests could likewise be pursued through a series of value-formation sessions among farmer-members and their households, focusing on the i above-mentioned value, to ensure the importance of coop-patronage through actual practice with or without production loans prior to the end of the project grant-period.
5. More than half (51.4%) of the respondents were aware of the post-harvest facilities of the cooperatives, indicating the extent of services offered to the beneficiaries, the type of communication between the coop management and the beneficiaries and the level of participation of the beneficiaries in the activities of the cooperation cooperatives such as meetings or general assemblies. This could be properly addressed by designing a communication scheme through which beneficiaries are well informed on the various developments cooperatives and its programs. This will make them feel more important and most likely provide due respect for and support to the cooperatives. Perhaps this could be done by tapping the seldas to establish periodic meetings with the coop management for updates and dissemination to selda members. A bulletin board in selda-centers is necessary through which information about coop development, important for the improvement of the farmers’ statuses, will be relayed.
6. A little over three-fourths (75.8%) of the respondents reported that corresponding payments or charges were made on the use of the post-harvest facilities. However, the data showed that some of the respondents within the same coop claimed that they were not being charged for the use of such facilities. This situation should be corrected as this might cause possible conflicts among the members and, subsequently, affect the capability and sustainability of the cooperatives. Likewise, the problems of the respondents in the use of the facilities and their respective solutions should be taken into consideration in planning appropriate actions to enhance services provided to coop-members.
7. Though the findings indicate that the majority of the respondents received technical assistance trainings, the program implementors should be conscientious in making these services available to all beneficiaries. This will provide them not only with additional knowledge but eventually develop among them the capability of identifying various opportunities relative to their development.
8. The production loan was found to be useful for the beneficiaries. However, the data showed that more than half (53.3%) of the respondents have either partially paid or not paid the loans as of the survey period. As explained earlier, this might possibly be due to the drought-season. It is at this instance that the program implementors should discuss with the beneficiaries the appropriate re-structuring of the loan requirements. The funding agency should be appropriately informed of whatever changes are agreed upon to avoid miscommunications.
9. The findings revealed that all the respondents are aware of the coop requirements on production loans. This should be sustained through constant communication with the beneficiaries.
10. Except for two respondents, the rest were actively participating in the activities of the cooperatives. However, their participation was limited to attendance in meetings, general assemblies and seminars or trainings. It is recommended that the program implementors design other mechanisms or strategies with the beneficiaries that will enhance not only their attendance but also their capability to think and decide on their own, with the implementors acting as facilitators. This will gradually prepare the members for the eventual phasing out of the program.
11. The program generally developed the value of savings among the respondents through forced savings. This is indicated by the increases in the current capital build-up from initial capital build-up of the respondents. This program should be sustained and strengthened by subsequent discussions on the value and importance of savings. Otherwise, the beneficiaries will not appreciate such requirements, resulting in non-cooperation and lack of support among the members.
12. More than two-thirds (73.3%) of the respondents claimed that their income was not enough to cover family expenses. This suggests the need for the program implementors to design other income generating activities to augment the farm income of the beneficiaries. Such a need might serve as a relevant entry point for the program implementors to utilize the CO-PAR (Community Organizing through Participatory Action Research) approach on the target-communities, wherein cooperative members undertake research, plan, monitor and evaluate the implemented plans. This approach will not only develop the members but also ensure the sustainability of the program even beyond the project-period.
13. Given the review of the records available at the project-office, there is a need to improve the documentary requirements of the program until the end of the project period. It is thus recommended that a seminar-workshop for the implementors, relative to the preparation and submission of standard reports, be undertaken with the program-evaluators. This will subsequently prepare the implementors for the terminal evaluation-phase of the program.
Tables Referred to the PDF