Tag Archives: Conflict

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.

Psycho-Social Effects of Armed Conflict and Violence on Families

According to Patterson and Eisenberg (1983), Effective counselors are contemporary and have a world view of human events. This means that the counselors are aware of important present-day events in all the systems affecting their lives. They are aware of the significance and possible future implications of these events. And to be contemporary means the counselor has in-depth understanding of contemporary social concerns and an awareness of how these events affect the views of clients–especially their views about the future. It is for these reasons that I am prompted to share with you about some events that affect the lives of some fifty thousand Filipino families.

The demise of the Marcos dictatorship, the assumption of liberal democracy under Aquino in 1986, and the steerage of Ramos-styles Philippines 2000 in the 1990s have not altered the socio-economic and political architecture of the Philippines. Increasing militarization begun under the Aquino administration, continues to batter the lives of people reduced to pawns in the seemingly endless conflict. In the span of four years (1986-1989), the number of children victims had already reached about 2 million.

War always exacts a heavy price on a nation’s economy, on family security and stability, and on human lives. I would like to share with you about the war which is going on right now in our country. I will not touch on the political or legal aspects of it, but rather on the human side of it. I will specifically focus on the millions of Filipino families caught in the crossfire of this war.

In 1988 our government declared their total war policy against the New People’s Army (NPA). Thus, military operations were intensified and vigilante groups, like the Citizens Armed Forced Geographical Unit (CAFGU) and the Alsa Masa were formed.

From January to December 1993, the Task Force Detainees of the Philippines (TFDP) documented mass evacuation incidents involving 49,125 families. Evacuation or displacement refers to the voluntary or involuntary relocation or transfer of families from their permanent residence to another area because of militarization. Families are forced to transfer due to counter-insurgency drives, to unexplained killings or to a mere harassment by armed groups.

What effects does this displacement have on families? I will deal with these effects by citing some examples from my own experiences with families who have been displaced or relocated.

Jun’s family was a victim of false accusation. They were forced to leave their place because the husband was accused of being a member of the NPA like his brother. He was picked up and tortured and sustained a deep gash on his neck and chin; he had been hogtied by the military for almost twenty-four hours to force a confession that he was also a rebel like his brother whom the military was trying to track down and arrest to no avail.

Due to a constant changing of residence, uncertainty for the family’s future prevails. This has been heightened by their fear and anxiety because they are still sought after. The lack of Security in their livelihood was enhanced their uncertainty about life. The wife, after a few weeks of the husband’s ordeal, was still visibly shaken a fearful of the people around them although they were 37 kilometers away from their place. But the most pitiful looking lot of them all were the children: timid, fearful of the approach of anyone, non-conversational, heads constantly owed down, eyes glued to the floor or staring blankly in to space. The children couldn’t go to school since they constantly moved from one place to the other to avoid harassment from the military. The children were confused. They were unable to comprehend the event s happening to them.

In another incident, this time in La Paz, Leyte (Balanon, 1992), Ramil was living a simple life with his wife, Elsie, who was pregnant,and his two children, Richard, three and Maricel, two. Ramil tended their little farm and went fishing as a means to support his family.

They were peaceful until, one day, their barrio was bombed as a result of the military’s efforts to counteract insurgency. Residents were dragged off to jail, beaten and forced to admit guilt. Some were arrested and detained on suspicion of being supporters of the NPA’s. The noise of guns and screams  were all around.

Ramil then decided to flee with his family to the mountains when he saw his wife and children frightened. Even when they were in the mountains, bombs were dropped on them and so they were forced to move deeper into the forest. They had to roam about the forest to be safe from the military  operations. For a month they depended much on what nature could offer them. But the woods were cold and it constantly rained. Without shelter and protection from cold and rain, the children often got sick. Besides, Ramil’s wife grew heavier with the child she was carrying in her womb. For fear of the prevailing sickness and his wife’s condition, Ramil was forced to move his family to Bulacan where he had worked when he was a young man. But the memories of Layte still haunt the family, especially the children.

On April 7, 1990, Ramil’s family was referred to the Children’s Rehabilitation Center (CRC). During Art Therapy session, Richard drew images of war: people running, guns and helicopters. He also drew trees, frogs and flowers. But what was very disturbing were the images of the burning houses in the background. Elsie was trying to cope with her shock and to confront her unresolved grief for a lost home.

Take the case of Napoleon (Pajadura & Bunda, 1992). At about eleven o’clock in the evening three unidentified men called for Napoleon. They identified themselves as NPS guerrillas who needed some rice. Napoleon asked them to come back in the morning since it was quite late. But the three men insisted that he open the door.

Napoleon’s wife, Melicia, tried to peep through a slit in the wall and saw three armed, masked men in fatigue uniform. Frightened, she went back to her children. On her way back, she heard gunshots coming from underneath their house. Then he saw her her husband lying dead and her two children bleeding; Namelyn wounded in the right leg and Napoleon, Jr. in the left foot. The children were rushed to the hospital for immediate operation.

At present, Melicia tills their small farm. She is not sure what lies ahed of her and her two children, especially sixteen year old Namelyn, who remains physically defective. She fells ashamed of the wound on her lower right leg and tends to isolate herself. What is worse is the ongoing infection caused by the bacteria. She may need another operation which might necessitate amputation. Still worse are the series of nightmares she experiences. She gets frightened at the sound of firecrackers and finds herself in tears remembering the incident which cause the wound.

Such sights are common among the estimated 16,743 families caught in the eye of the storm ranging between the military and the rebel elements. The exact number of them is uncertain as the conflict is still going on and there may be unreported case undergoing inner turmoil as a result of their experiences. The results of such experiences may even be worse than the examples I have mentioned earlier. Furthermore, what is really happening inside of them may be difficult to fathom, as some members of the family may be uncommunicative about their feelings and experiences. We can only gauge the extent of the damage done to their psyche from their behaviors and from their nightmare disturbances.

The emotional scars of such experiences are visible in the way these victims of atrocities show mistrust in strangers; by their vacant stares at them or inability to look at them straight in the eye; in their constant worry as to what might happen anytime of the day for many days, or months or years of their lives; in the children’s shouts; in problems with urination and vomiting; in the look of fear in their faces; in their social isolation; and in their distorted concept of family life and community.

In my five years with CRC, as a member of the Board of Consultants in Davao City, when children of families victimized by armed violence underwent therapy., I have observed aggressive behavior, withdrawal from other children and adults, the suspicious looks of a girl who was a rape victim, children cowering with fear at the approach of another, some even running away to hide at the sound of helicopters and airplanes, sleep disturbances and many more signs of anguish and fear.

The traditional role of the family becomes shattered as it becomes distorted with the turn of events caused by a state of mass evacuation and forced displacement of whole villages or clusters of families. With parents undertaking solo responsibility  in the absence of the other spouse, the children are left unattended to as the solo parent is besieged on all sides with  economic, social and psychological problems. In the absence of both parents, the children are left in the care of relatives or foster parents who oftentimes are unable to appreciate and understand the gravity of the trauma undergone by the child or children and also unable to cope with problems which they cannot empathize with, or much less internalize.

Children exposed to the armed conflict live in a relatively constant state of stress. Fear and apprehension are the predominant emotions that are involved in most situations and relationships. Helplessness and uncertainty pervade their lives as they witness the collapse of parental security and protection. They find themselves confused, for they cannot figure out why they are made to undergone hardships when know that neither they nor their parents have down anything wrong. This sometimes leads to feelings of shame and isolation.

Even more serious than the trauma experienced by the child or children is the trauma experienced by the adults themselves, for this can be transmitted to the children in some form. Hence, their respective traumas affect each other. Signs of stress of the parents, such as irritability, mistrust, fear of others or even crying affect the children in no small manner and the latter manifest this in violent forms of behavior, cheating, lying, disrespect for their elders and low self-esteem.

War and all form of political violence have slowly destroyed the structure of the family. The conflicts leave the family in shambles, with either one or both parents dead or missing, or some children dead, or one of the parents arrested by armed men, most often never to return to the fold of the family. Thus, children and their parents hardly perform the traditional roles in the family. Disruption of the family functioning and role patterns is particularly evident in these cases of political detention, disappearance or death. Separation or loss of either or both parents necessitates changes in the family structure and individual responsibilities. Changes in the family structure are even more upsetting that changes in residence, although people who move, experience major changes in their environment, and such changes are always stressful. Stress resulting from environmental change us hard on the adults, but it is even harder on young people whose coping systems are less well formed and immature.

Children in these circumstances lost the sense of structure that a normal upbringing, with its adult-imposed schedule of eating, sleeping playing, growing and learning provides. Many, particularly those whose contact with their family has been severed for a long period of time, are without a sense of morality acceptable in the wider society. they slide into stealing and are prone to self-destruction activities such as deliberately wanting to be run over by a car when crossing the street, refusing to speak at all, or hiding under the bed or at the back of a door for hours and hours. (Marcelino, 1992).

The absence of fathers because of dissertations or death creates special stresses for children. Research has shown that the development of their moral judgment in somewhat retarded, especially in boys (Hoffman, 1971).

Many, however, are highly adaptive to their own subculture and are efficient and resourceful survivors; but they are poor in self-care and their loss of a sense of identity reinforces their alienation from the regular world. Their keenest sense of deprivation is their lack or familial love. Almost all still maintain vision, whatever sadness they may feel or their experiences of being loved and of belonging to a mother or a father.

Most single-parent families have far more than their share of problems: their incomes, housing arrangements, and lifestyles clearly reflect the disadvantages they suffer in respect to her families.

There seems to be little doubt that children suffer when the normal family relationships is disrupted. Every study that has been made of the children of single-parent homes have shown that the greater the instability of the family and its living arrangement, the greater the instability of the family and its living arrangement, the greater the likehood that the children’s emotional and behavioral problems will be aggravated (Lindgren, 1983). The problems that the children of these “incomplete” families experience at home are reflected in their school careers. For in contrast to children from intact homes; they are more likely to become truants, to be suspended, to drop out, or to be expelled from school.

Violence is a phenomenon that may be observed directly by the children where they are, like a bomb exploding in their backyard. Or the children themselves may be the targets of the violence when they are sometimes asked to carry messages. Most of all, children become recipients of unmotivated violence directed towards parents, relatives and friends. War games become an exciting game. For them the gun, the grenade, the knife and the clenched first become the symbols of their age—and their innocent acceptance of brutality is terrifying.

The child of war is caught in chaos. As a result of this experience, children are seen to be irritable, aggressive, and unconsciously find expression of their emotional upset in unsocial patterns of behavior. Some withdraw, other engage in fantasizing. Physical complaints, unexplained fever and headaches and other psychosomatic illness may be shown. Furthermore, sleep disturbances , like insomnia and nightmares frequently prevail. The child without symptoms is probably worse than the child with symptoms. At least, the child with symptoms is trying to work hard to break his/her way through this chaotic environment. He/She is able to allow others to see his/her fears, griefs and sorrows. However, it is quite difficult to deal with such children, since they are not very communicative of their problems, much less of their emotions.

There is then a need for an intervention by others in the forms of guidance and counseling and therapeutic sessions over a period of time for the victims of violence to talk about their experiences so these can be processed, accepted and put behind them as part of an unpleasant past experience. Then they can cope with the present situation and look forward with the hope for the future.

History reflects the admiration that society has always held for those who have overcome physical handicaps to achieve notable success: the man, Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was paralyzed by polio in both legs at thirty-nine, but later became the President of the U.S. and a wartime world leader; the girl, Helen Keller, who was deaf and blind from the age of two, but became a successful author and lecturer; and the deaf musician, Ludwig Van Beethoven, to name a few – – are examples of successful achievers who overcome physical and psychosocial adversity. The achievements of these and others, despite their handicaps, are notable, but history has failed to record the tragic losses in human potential that have occurred because of lack of attention, other than medical, for those who are disabled physically or psycho-socially. However, the expansion of rehabilitation counseling into public as well as into private agencies has provided a dramatic increase in opportunities for the handicapped to receive special counseling assistance in overcoming their disabilities. It is for these reasons that the CRC was established.

For the past nine years, the CRC has been giving direct attention to children and families caught in the armed conflict. Its focus has been on helping children and their families who suffer economic, health, emotional, and psychological problems due to arrests, torture, forced displacements, straffing, massacre and other forms of human rights violations as a result of the ongoing militarization in our country.

Since its foundation in 1985, the CRC has always tried to come up with ways and means to meet the needs of its clients — the families.

For those who need structure, social structure is therapeutic. We place a child with foster parents or we provide groups where they can express what they want.

Parents as well as their children need to talk to understand fully their war experiences and to release tensions and hang-ups. Story telling, art therapy, and drama serve as vehicles to cope with fears, anger or loss. Counseling helps both parents and children adapt healthier beliefs about their situations, accepting those aspects that cannot be changed and working toward possible social changes in their lives so that concrete steps can be taken and stress can be alleviated by realistic solutions within the social context.

Play plays a very important role in the lives of children. Francisco (1993) arrives at the conclusion that planned and supervised games are useful tools for promoting the development of positive social behavior. Children exposed to such treatment show significant responses and become more friendly, more cooperative, more responsible and more skillful in coping with problems. Furthermore, play has been used many therapists in rehabilitating children in war (Hay, 1946; Simson,1947; Moustakas, 1953; Axline,1964 as cited by Acuna).

In a theater group the child, vis-a-vis other realities, can reflect on their reality and create alternative realities. Take for an example what happens in Image Theater. The children are asked to form a sculpture answering the questions: 1) what is happening now? (real image) 2) what should be ? (ideal image 3) how do we go there? (solution image).

[Refer to PDF File for the picture] (page 7, 1st page)

Sports are also offered. In football the child can learn to fight without killing; in basketball, the child can release feelings of aggression; and in following the rules of the game, he can make mistakes without being punished for it.

To avoid separation from parents of children under treatment, parental support is offered. All efforts to assist children in war must include the parents (Halpern, 1976; Quiroga, 1982; Rogers, 1984 as cited by Acuna). To leave out the parents means splitting the family. This may affect the children at their weakest spot — the fear of separation. Supporting the family in taking care of their own children in all rehabilitation work.

Finally, there is the need for community support and for rebuilding trust in others. The community in the form a group work develops support for one another. Thus we make use of the family approach system, cognizant that the problems of the child cannot be isolated from that of the family and community. Through the above activities, we hope to strengthen the remaining structure and nurturing qualities of the family and thus support a healthy atmosphere for the development of effective coping mechanisms. In this sense, both parents and children are part of the same process of rehabilitation.

To combine these five elements — structure, talking, cognized play, parental support, and community involvement in a pressed-for-time therapeutic session — becomes a problem. We need trained and committed people who can go out of their way to support and help in the process of rebuilding the structure of the family, for the stability of the nation depends upon the stability of the family.

The challenge of the 1980s remains in the 1990s.

REFERENCES

[Please Refer to the PDF File]

Armed Conflict in Sulu: A Local Perspective

War has marred the landscape of Sulu. For decades now in contemporary Moro history, Jolo has figured prominently in the national news as insurgent territory, embattled homeland of Moro fighters. Beginning in the 1970s when the Misuari-led Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) set off a secessionist war against the central state power in Manila and “Filipino colonialism,” Jolo and neighboring islands have never known peace at length. Revolts and pockets of rebellion, along with local feuds, have time and again sent people out of their homes, some families moving to other quieter islands or cities and as far as Sabah in Malaysia. The latest of these conflagrations happened in February 2005 when some members of the MNLF launched an attack against the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP)4, prompting the national government to send battalions of troops into the embattled territory. The AFP bombarded alleged Abu Sayya f lairs in a nine-day campaign “to punish the renegades” and hitting mostly residential areas. By 19 February the Provincial Civil Defense Office in Sulu counted the number of internally displaced at 2.689 families or a total of 26,000 people. Other counts were slightly higher, but whatever the more accurate figure may have been, the more important facts might have to be accounted in what these wars now mean for the inhabitants of Sulu Islands. For even as a large number of the old guards in the MNLF now succumbed to government enticements, and top leader Nur Misuari still in jail, a new crop of leaders and fighters have apparently risen. What this current war is all about and where do the ordinary Taosugs and Moro civilians stand in all this are questions this research hopes to address.

Literature review: The research context

There has been of late a plethora of literature on armed conflict in Mindanao, a bulk of which are focused on what have come to be known in non government organization (NGO) parlance as internally displaced persons (IDPs). Valuable for documenting and profiling war effects, most of these cannot go past deploring the sorry state of the IDPs, invariably ending with big recommendations about implementing a comprehensive rehabilitation and reconstruction and peace building projects. These are accompanied, in equal volume, by studies on children in armed conflict, which usually project children as fodder or “exploited labor” of wars their rebel fathers foisted on them. While laudable in their success in obtaining greater welfare benefits for poor rural children — usually in the form of more day care centers, preschools, madrasahs, scholarships, supplementary nutrition — and in mobilizing political resources toward cessation of hostilities and infrastructure building, these studies often fail to appreciate the cultural and political context within which war or an ongoing rebellion takes place. Often, these literatures only serve to reflect White middle class views and welfare policies developed in affluent beneficent countries which the local population do not necessarily share.

Standing in line under the shade of a Church-led civil society movement, almost every other NGO in Mindanao now runs a peace program, with strong backing from international NGOs (INGOs) fostering the most harmless interest in Mindanao. As though to give substance to exhortations for peace, a handful of materials on peace building have likewise been produced, featuring progress made in peace zones. Scarce as yet are the critiques of peace initiatives, likely because of the overwhelming positivism that continues to impel the peace movement, and also because the impetus for a contrary tendency is yet unshaped.

This current attention on the peace situation in Mindanao — and the volume of literatures coming with it — has been largely occasioned by the wide interest garnered by the continuing peace process that began with the MNLF in 1996 and then later with MILT in 1997. There was great optimism of finally putting an end to Moro rebellion especially after Nur Misuari assumed governorship of the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM) and agreed to reintegrate MNLF forces into the AFP. Billions of pesos were invested in the Special Zone of Peace and Development (SZOPAD) as international financial institutions came together to carry out a comprehensive economic development program that would purportedly eradicate poverty and stem the roots of conflict in the region. The project was by no means local. In the global scale it came in the aftermath of the Cold War that projected the United States (US) as beneficent donor to war-ravaged areas in the Third World struggling to rebuild their economies.

Research objectives

This research work has been undertaken to surface data on armed conflict in Mindanao and, more importantly, to draw out voices of local people most affected and involved in the conflict. Other than enumerating losses and damages and numbers of IDPs, something which has been done pretty well by many NGOs working with Mindanao’s displaced persons, this research work hopes to go further by reappraising conventional social welfare categories and the peace paradigm that govern current social movements. In relation to this, we want to surface voices, local perspectives, which may not and do not necessarily reflect populist notions about peace and armed conflict. Particularly, we pay attention to dissenting voices: views and opinions that interrogate not only the dominant ideology and powers behind the promotion and continuance of the war in Sulu, but also those that critique prescriptions and popular beliefs held by social development institutions and peace advocates.

Scope and limitations of the study

The municipalities of Indanan and Panamao are the two identified areas covered by this study. Site of past military operations as well as rebel activities for the last three decades, these two areas arc also the most badly hit in the February 2005 bombardment of Sulu. Most of the residents are Taosug and Sama natives who survived repeated warfare and countless military operations. The areas also had at one time or another fallen victim to extortive activities of bandits and loose armed groups and figured in election-related violence staged by warring politicians.

Owing to the tense situation in the research area, entry had not been an easy process. Hostility to military operations and distrust of non-locals compelled the researchers team9 to minimize movement and commute daily between the research area and Jolo proper where they were lodging, as staving the night in the hills was not advised. Scheduled interviews were also hard to have because almost all of the respondents had to work in their farms from dawn to midday and had to be in the market in Jolo proper peddling ukay-ukay (secondhand clothing) from two o’clock to five in the afternoon. It was also difficult to obtain official figures (names and families of the IDPs), if they were available at all, as one had to secure “permission from the higher authorities” to be able to have access to these.

One agenda that this research has not adequately addressed is gender. Other than a few statements taken from women respondents during the field work, so little data had been surfaced detailing the gender aspects of war. This has been partly on account of the milieu the researchers entered (war area being a male domain and most of the “crew” — guides, local leaders and barangay officials, fighters, runners, etc. — that attended to the team’s research needs were mostly males). Also, the two field workers were already too over lade with various tasks, not to mention the stress associated with security hazard and the limited budget, to further encumber themselves with more research items. The third member of the team who was the more keen and uncompromising when it came to gender aspects of research was not able to join the field work also due to budget limitations, as she is based in Davao City. Then the team had also to take consideration Of sensitivity to issues such as sexual violence in armed conflict: While this is not an impermeable subject, a one- to two-week field work would not be enough to bring these out.

Research methodology

This research mainly relied on in-depth interviews and story-telling as methods of data gathering. This required building of rapport with respondents which was not easy to do since the security situation required for the researchers to go home each night and only see them in between their farm and trade work. Budget limited data gathering days to only a week in February 2006.

For the children, play sessions were employed to draw out the stories from them. They were also asked to share their experiences through a combination of draw-and-tell activities and small group discussions. In situations where the children were unable to explain their drawings, their mothers and adults were asked to help. Through these methods, the researchers were able to get views, silenced voices, as well as local people’s values, perceptions, and attitudes toward their situation.

Sulu: A Situationer

Historical background

Power struggles are certainly not new in the province of Sulu. Long before the Europeans arrived, conflicts within the Sulu Sultanate and between the different Muslim sultanates were common. The arrival of the Spaniards and their determination to wipe out Muslim rule provided a motivation for local chiefs to join forces against the foreign invaders. In the end defeat of the once powerful Sulu Sultanate and the erosion of the Dar-ul Islam (Muslim homeland) was assured not only by the superior armed might of the invaders, but also by the bloody rivalry among the Moro ruling elite (Mercado 1990, 38). The history of Spain in the Philippines is punctuated by battles between Spaniards and Muslims as Spain attempted to extend its sovereignty and trade into the southern islands and the so-called Moro wars began with a Spanish attack on the capital of the Sulu Sultanate in 1578 (Magdalena 1990, 14). The Spaniards were able to establish garrisons in Jolo where they maintained troops for a short time, but they never succeeded in gaining a permanent foothold in Sulu beyond Job town. They eventually abandoned their attempt to dominate Sulu and forged a truce with the Muslims during their final years in the Philippines (Interview with Gaspar Abubakar, February 2006).

When the Americans took over the Philippines in 1898, they discovered that the Filipinos throughout the archipelago were none too happy about the arrival of another colonial power. A bloody chapter in Philippine history took place before the US finally established control of the islands. Mindanao (and Sulu Islands in particular) was even harder to pacify and it took several more years of bloodshed before the Americans were able to establish a government in Sulu. Major General Leonard Wood became the first American Governor of the Moro Province. By 1913, most of Mindanao and Sulu were under relative control as the pacification campaign succeeded in neutralizing Moro resistance. The period of American rule, which lasted until 1935, was relatively peaceful.

When the Japanese came in 1942, they established a major base in Jolo. The Taosugs were not spared from come (forced labor) and were made to build airstrips. A resistance movement was organized which actively operated in Sulu throughout the Japanese occupation and later helped the Allied Forces liberate the islands.” At the end of the war with Japan in 1946, America handed the reins of government to Filipinos under the Commonwealth period. The people of Sulu once again saw an outside power moving in. The Christian Filipino government in Manila would be resisted again and again not only for its failure to respond to the basic social needs of the Moro people but more so for the loss of homeland that occupancy of Mindanao by Filipino colonials effected.

During the late 1950s, the Philippine government began a land resettlement program to move Christians from heavily populated sections of Luzon to seemingly empty areas in the Muslim provinces. The policy was in response to the growing land unrest in the north. Muslims who held traditional claim to the lands in Mindanao resented the influx of Christian settlers, but most were too unlettered and too indifferent to the new laws that they later found themselves dispossessed. Sulu was saved from this land resettlement policy, thanks partly to the reputation of the Tausug as a warrior tribe, and partly to the unpopularity of Sulu archipelago as agricultural lands. The economy of the islands is traditionally anchored on trade with subsistence farming maintained only by farmers living inland.” This trade economy predates the establishment of the current national boundaries. Under Philippine government, this continuing trade relations with countries south of Sulu would fall under illegal trade or smuggling. Under the Marcos administration, large garrisons of Philippine Constabulary (PC) would be installed in the southern borders to deal with this problem of lost revenue to the national government. A common knowledge in the south is that this southern patrol had developed into a business connivance between Army and Marine commanders and Moro smugglers.

While a few elite families managed to hold on to their privileged position, majority of the native inhabitants of Mindanao have been economically marginalized on account of the coming of Christian settlers. This reinforced historically rooted prejudices against the Filipino halos as enemy. All throughout the period of colonial invasion into Moroland, Filipino natives were conscripted by foreign powers to fight the Moros. In their campaigns against the recalcitrant Muslims, Spanish governors sent more Christian Filipinos than Spanish soldiers.” Massacres of Moros by American-led Filipino soldiers arc stories planted in the collective memory of the Moro people. Present wars directed by Filipino generals under the succession of Filipino presidents could just be repetitions of these tragedies in Moro history.

Socioeconomic profile

Sulu Province at present is composed of 157 islands, many of them still unnamed. Divided into four groups, namely, the Jolo group, the Pangutaran group, the Tongkil-Banguingui group and the Siasi-Tapul group, these islands have varied terrain and economic resources (Sulu Provincial Office, 2005). The Tongkil Banguingui islands, in particular, are occupied by the various Sama groups, also known as the Samales, a highly dispersed Moro group. These different communities occupy diverse ecological niches resulting in distinct socioeconomic characteristics, with the Taosugs in Jolo as the most dominant social group, that monopolizes political power and trading in the south. Juridically, Sulu has eighteen municipalities and 410 barangays. Ten of these arc in mainland Jolo while the eight are island municipalities. Talipao, Siasi, Parang, Indanan, Patikul, Luuk, and Panamao are the more densely populated, holding at least fifty six percent of the entire province’s population. Various government agencies have varying reports on the total land area of Sulu, ranging from 160,04(1 hectares per the National Mapping and Resource Information Authority to 167,930 hectares per the National Statistics Office (Sulu Provincial Office 2005).

As of 2000, the NSO placed Sulu’s population at 619,668, with more females than males (at the ratio of ninety-six males for every 10(1 females). This can be attributed to higher mortality rate among men who arc mostly engaged in risky occupations, including rebellion and providing security to local warlords. This is supported by data on the widowed which is higher among females (at seventy-one percent) than males (twenty-nine percent). An overwhelming 85.27 percent of the population are Taosugs; the rest arc minority Sama tribes including the Bajau. A tiny 2.63 percent belong to non-Muslim ethnic groups and are generally employed in the government service sector as teachers, municipal employees, or health workers. Generally, fishing and farming remain the traditional source of livelihood of the minority Moro groups, supplemented by retailing and food vending. Traditional crafts such as mat-weaving and loom-making have also become a source of income for women (Sulu Provincial Office 2005).

Economically, Sulu lagged behind most of the Philippine islands. The high rate of illiteracy has kept majority of the population poor and without access to employment opportunities, driving many of the young to engage in rebel activities. The few who managed to get an education in the Middle East, particularly in Al-.Azhar University in Egypt, would later return home to provide leadership for the resistance movement. Young women privileged enough to finish high school or college opt to work in big cities or, when family resources would allow, in Middle East countries, particularly Saudi Arabia. The peace and order situation is blamed for the paucity of economic activities in the province. Many farmers are reluctant to work beyond the two-kilometer safe radius from Jolo, the capital town, and many in the various services and trade sector prefer to set out for other places to get more gainful employment. Forty-five percent of Sulu’s 99,416 households have annual incomes within the PhP20,000 — PhP59,000 bracket, earning an average of PhP33,039 or PhP2,753 monthly. And while agriculture remains the main source of employment, only ten to forty percent of the province’s labor force actually engage in crop production (Sulu Provincial Office 2005),

Poverty is exacerbated by poor delivery of basic social services, blamed again on the unstable peace and order situation in the province. In 2000, twenty-nine percent of the households drew drinking water from dug well while twelve percent sourced water from faucets shared with other households. Only fourteen percent had their own faucets in their houses. Toilet facilities were likewise poor, with only seventeen percent having water-sealed toilets. Thirty-eight percent use open pit; thirteen percent closed pit; and fourteen percent had no toilets at all. Maternal mortality rate was at 181.15 per 100,000 live births in 2002. The high rate is again attributed to the heavy presence of armed groups in the area during the year which made access to health care services doubly difficult. Leading causes of deaths were postpartum hemorrhage, hypertension in pregnancy, and placental retention. In 2000, only 45.62 percent of pregnant women were given tetanus toxoid plus injections, a figure which decreased by fifteen percent in 2002. The low tetanus immunization is attributed, primarily, to non-compliance of mothers for the return visits, irregular schedule of immunization, inadequate information dissemination and insufficient supply of vaccines and, secondarily, to the peace and order situation. There is likewise a severe shortage of health workers as they do not receive any financial compensation owing to local Government Unit’s (1,GU) failure to give the Harangay l health Workers (BIM’s) their honoraria. Infant mortality rate in 200(1 was at 7.35 per 1,00() live births, decreasing to 4.86 per 1,000 live births in 2002. beading causes of death include pneumonia, diarrhea, and measles, with malnutrition as contributing factor (Sulu Provincial Office 2005).

The conflict areas

Two municipalities prominently figured in the 2(105 bombardment of Jolo: Indanan and Panamao. Indanan is one of the historical places in Sulu. It was where the first central government of Sulu was organized in 1391) by Rajah Baguinda, the acclaimed Muslim leader who propagated Islam in Mindanao, Palawan, and Borneo. The seat of the Sultanate of Sulu itself was set up in Bwansa, seven kilometers southwest of 1olo. Bwansa could have been the very site Spain bombarded in 1578 when it launched its first attack on the sultanate. It could have been the same fortification that withstood the troops of 600 Spaniards and 3,001) Filipinos in 1638, the same waning power that fought the 600 Filipino volunteers in 1875. The bombardment of Jolo in February 2005, which at its height deployed 5,0n0 ALT forces in Indanan, Panamao, and neighboring areas, could have been history repeating itself.

Indanan was created a municipality in 1917 under the Philippine Commonwealth Government. It was named after Panglima Indanan, one of the local chiefs under the Sultanate of Sulu, recognized for his leadership and courage in peace and in war. As a royal gesture of generosity, the Sultan offered to Panglima Indanan  the place where he resided to be ruled by him (Sulu Provincial Planning and Development Office 2005). During the reign of the sultanate (spanning almost 500 years from the fourteenth century to the eighteenth century), Moro settlements straddled the coastal areas and mosques. Islamic schools, and adminiztrative buildings were constructed along the shores. Livelihood and most economic activities were rooted in barter trading. With  the coming of the Spanish and American invaders, settlements moved inward, particularly in Indanan and adjacent areas, where local defenders built their houses and strongholds. It was also in Indanan where the Americans built the first school in Sulu in 1980 — an act which at that time was interpreted by the natives as a centerpiece of colonial policy. At present, a Bay Puti or White House stands as a vestige of this colonial policy (Sulu Provincial Planning and Development Office 2005).

Indanan is situated in mainland Jolo, some 155 kilometers south of Zamboanga City. It stands northeast of Jolo, east of Patikul, west of Sulu sea, southeast of Parang, south of Manimbung and southeast of Talipao (see map). Covering a total land area, of 10,190 hectares, Indanan represents 6.07 percent of the Province’s total land area. Eighty-five percent of Indanan’s land is agricultural, 9.81 percent forest area, 1.47 percent mangrove, and 2.32 percent residential. It has thirty-four barangay, with five major rivers and twelve mountains.

Indanan has a total population of 53,425 as of 2000 of which 25,972 or 48.62 percent are males and 27.453 or 51.38 percent females. Sixty-four percent of the households are farmers; only 3.60 percent are engaged in fishing. Of the thirty-four barangays, Bato-Bato, Bud Taran, Sionogan, Panabuan, Langpas,and Bwansa are the more densely populated, with around 2,500 to 3,500 people each. The rest of the barangays hold less than two thousand people each, with Panglima Misuari having the smallest population at 476 people. most of the houses in Panamao are made of light materials. For most households, calamtiy comes in the form of a feud between local warlords and politicians, military operations, and for those who live in the coast, the uttara (north wind), whioch usually hits Bajau houses.

A highly depressed area, Panamao sits on fifty-one zquare kilometers representing 3.29 percent of the total land area of Sulu. Classified as fifth class municipality, it has thrirty-one barangays and has a population of 35,906 as of 2000 composed of 5,663 households. There are more females (51.06 percent) than males (48.94 percent) Sulu Provincial Planning and Development Office 2005). Native Taosugs make up the majority, with Bajaus comprising the minority and are found in the coastal barangay of Suuh.

Rich in both marine and land resources, the people of Panamao depend on farming and fishing for a living. Lack of roads and poor transportation facilities prevent the marketing of their farm products. Those residing in the interior and upland areas transport their crops by horseback or by cart drawn by a cow. Panamao’s main crops include copra, banana, cassava, and vegetables. In the interior barangays, upland rice, coffee, peanuts, and fruit trees are cultivated. Livestock raised include cows, goats, and chickens. In the coastal barangays seaweeds are grown. Traders who buy the products in the highway or wait in Jolo market depress the prices that farmers are often discouraged from producing beyond what would sustain household consumption. Fisherman are not any luckier. The absence of a wharf or causeway in the municipality forces them to deliver their cath to Jolo market by motorcycle or, when they catch one, by jeepney which usually charges high.

Employment outside the agricultural sector is nil. The municipal Office employs a total of sixty-five people, 44.62 percent of whom are permanent, the rest casual or under temporary appointments. There are more males (thirty-six) than females (twenty-nine). All the eleven Sangguniang Bayan (legislative body) members of the town are males. Of the thirty-four barangay heads, five (14.71 percent) are females, the rest (85.29 percent) males.

Social services are inadequate. Health services are delivered through a rural health unit (RHU) with one nurse, four midwives and two sanitary inspectors. The RHU is however closed most of the time as the health personnel are unable to come most days due to the peace and order situation. Besides the RHU, Panamao has been recently provided a district hospital. Constructed in 2003, the hospital has thirty-two staff, with one physician, one administrative officer, one dentist, one pharmacist, one medical technologist and four nurses. Most common ailments include malaria, colds, diarrhea, measles, and skin diseases. Water sources are mostly still in Level I (dug well). Teh coastal area has been observed to be more receptive to contagious diseases (Sulu Provincial Planning and Development Office 2005).

Literacy rate is at 43.4 percent in 1990, improving to sixty-five percent by the year 2000. There are two secondary schools, at Poblacion Seit and Patibulan, six elementary schools, and five primary schools. Far-flung barangays usually have only primary and elementary schools and children have to walk at least three kilometers from their houses to get to school. Lack of teachers and educational materials, not to mention lack of school buildings, remain a crying need. For every 100 pupils enroleld in Grade 1, twenty -five finish elementary education, ten finish high school, and most five get to colege. Of those with higher educational achievements, females generally outnumber the makes (Sulu Provincial Planning and Development Office 2005).

The Moro insurgency

The Muslim separatist resistance in Southern Mindanao and the Sulu archipelago is one of the most profound events in Philippine history. This rebellion attest to the unconquered spirit of a people that once upon a time were the sovereign rulers of Mindanao. Though now minoritized and marginalized, thanks to what it now calls the “Filipino colonial government,” this rebellion, which resulted in a civil war that only recently abated into a very tenuous peace, is far from finished.

The rise of Islamic nationalism around the world in recent time has lent new energy and new power to this resistance. Propelled by a dream of a Dar-ul Islam (an Islamic community), Muslim communities have over and over again supported calls for Islamic unity and self-governance. The MNLF, the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), and other Moro rebel formations that came after were forged and fostered by this desire for self determination and sovereignty. Met with the national government’s militarist response on the one hand and an assimilationist policy on the other hand, the rebellion has had no other way but to grow and survive. The early years of Martial Law were particularly colorful and bloody years for the Moro people: It was the height of the Moro uprising. Ang mga kabataan nuon ay nabuhay sa takot. Marami sa mga nakakatanda sa amin ay ipinahuli at ipinakulong ng mga militar nang  walang kasalanan. Karamihan sa kanila ay pinahirapan muna bago pinatay. Kaya sa mga panahon ding ito halos lahat ng mga kabataanga kalalakihan sa Sulu edad trese pataas ay boluntaryong sumanib sa MNLF. “The young lived in fear. Civilians were being picked up and jailed by the military. Many were tortured before they were killed. So it was at this time that almost all the young boys in Sulu aged thirteen adn above volunteered to join the MNLF” (FGD conducted in Indanan last 31 January 2006).

The war in the 1970s was fierce. There was massive evacuation of people, Muslims and Christians, as MNLF combatants and AFP soldiers, with the help of paramilitarity forces, exchanged fire (Mercado 1990, 39). The Bangsamoro homeland homeland became a virtual garrison as the AFP deployed its arsenal in Mindanao. The movement of people was such that the ethnic composition of some places was dranstically altered. By 1976, casualties were placed at 60,000 dead , with refugees to Sabah numbering around 300,000 (Mercado 1990, 40).

The confrontation with the Philippine military was particularly intense in Jolo. In February 1974, MNLF forces attempted to take control of Jolo town from the Philippine government troops. The ensuing battle resulted in the destruction of the Sulu province. Thousands fled Jolo. In subsequent years, more people escaped to the southern islands particularly to Bongao and Tawi-Tawi islands, including Sabah in Malaysia, as the war continued (Interview with Dr. Lakkian, 01 February 2006). Barjaya Baddang, one of the key respondents for this research, was one of those who joined the takeover. He said that many went to nearbby provinces, but others chose to leave the Philippines for eastern Borneo, especially Sabah. Barjaya himself left with his family for Sabah in 1976 and stayed there for three years. In 1979, he cane back hoping that the war had ended (Interview, 03 February 2006).

The Tripoli Agreement

The 1970s was also marked by an intensifying communist insurgency which was equally costly for the government coffers. Unwilling to expend its resources in a two-pronged war in a prolonged period, the Marcos government sought for a peaceful resolution of the Mindanao conflict. A truce was brokered with the help of the powerful organization of Islamic Countries (OIC) and the Tripoli Agreement was signed between the MNLF and the Philippine Government. The Tripoli Agreement provided for the establishment of autonomy in the thirteen provinces of Mindanao and Sulu “within the sovereignty and integral territory of the Republic of the Philippines and subject to its constitutional processes” (Mercado 1990, 40). The phrase “constitutional processes” would later allow the government to outmaneuver the MNLF. by holding a referendum in the thirteen provinces that would divide Mindanao and Sulu into two “autonomous regions” and allow certain provinces to opt out of peace talks. As Misuari backed out of the peace process and went back to armed rebellion, Marcos moved along to implement the agreement according to his own interpretation and proceeded with enticing top cadres of MNLF with monetary incentives and lucrative posts in government to legitimize his own version of autonomy. This war followed by an enormous building of a cultural edifice of the Autonomous Region: mosques, madrasahs, Muslim centers, public works, housing projects, Islamic studies, royal houses, Muslim scholarships, Muslim holidays, and so on.

About this time also division within the MNLF surfaced, made official in 1983 when Hashim faction would later emerged, the MNLF Pundato Group, allegedly created by the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to weaken the Misuari leadership. All this, together with Marcos’ “policy of attraction” combined to undertime the MNLF as a revolutionary force. As confusion and demoralization spread among the MNLF’s rank and file, Marcos consolidated his hold on Mindanao. Thanks to the ample help of Moro traditional leaders and former MNLF commanders, he was able to contain the Moro rebellion for a long while that prior to his ouster from power, the Moro resistance was no longer considered a major threat.

The Mindanao Peace Process

The coming into power of Corazon Aquino on 25 February 1986 via “people power” occasioned a resumption of the peace process with the MNLF: The 1986 Constitution provided for the creationof an autonomous region in Muslim Mindanao. But again, implementation was not much different from the Marcos ploy: It required a plebiscite in which provinces and cities in favor of autonomy would come under a new autonomous region. Only five provinces with predominantly Moro population voted for it.

In 1992, upon the assumption of former military figure Fidel V. Ramos (FRV) to presidency, the MNLF was drawn into a new round of peace talks with the government. Ramos sought to outdo his predecessor by promising to explore means of widening the boundaries and authority of the autonomous region and by “taking Constitutional and legal steps to comply with all the provisions of the Tripoli Agreement.” In 1996, a peace agreement was signed between Misuari and Ramos providing for, among others, the creation of a transitional administration and a longer-term establishment of a regional autonomous government. The Southern Philippines Council for Peace and Development (SPCPD) was established as the transitional administrative structure with the primary role of supervising the implementation of the agreement over a three-year period. The SPCPD covered not just the five Moro provinces but fourteen provinces and nine cities of Mindanao. A major task of the SPCPD was to demonstrate to both Muslims and Christians the economic benefits of peace under the autonomous region by way of development funds channeled to the region and the encouragement of foreign investment. Nur Misuari was made chairman of the SPCPD. The SPCPD, however, was restricted in power, resources, and authority. In the end, whatever little influence it had was further obstructed by bureaucratic gridlock, legal disputes, and political opposition.

Again, before the second phase of the agreement (the establishment of a Regional Autonomous Government) could be implemented, a plebiscite had to be held on 12 August 2001, purportedly to legitimize the increase of the boundaries of the ARMM from its current five provinces and a city. And again, most areas of Mindanao and Palawan rejected Muslim self rule. Still, the chairman and founder of the MNLF Nur Misuari was installed as Governor of the ARMM. In November 2001, however his rule ended abruptly when he led a failed uprising that culminated in the capture in Malaysia and present incarceration in Laguna.

The Anti-terror campaign

Since taking office in 1998. Former President Joseph Estrada demonstrated his reluctance to implement and support the 1996 Peace Agreement. He has been blamed as a major factor for the failure of the SPCPD. Estrada also took a non-compromising approach with the MILF and was responsible for the total war policy that brought tremendous havoc on thousands of civilian lives in Mindanao in 2000. His reign was also associated with the emergence of the Abu Sayyaf Group (ASG) in Basilan which claimed responsibility for the Dos Palmas hosetage-taking in 2001 which local people believed was the motivation behind the Malaysian government’s turning against Misuari.

Before the ASG deteriorated into a kidnap-for-ransom gang and a terrorist organization rumored to have links with high officials in the military. Its core leaders who had been largely desimated by the military claimed themselves to be Islamic revolutionaries. They were young Moro idealist who were said to be disillusioned by the MNLF’s surrender to the government. Military intelligence, to justify its assaults on Sulu and Basilan Islands in search of ASG lairs, would hint at the group’s connection with the Al Qaeda. The February 2005 bombardment of Sulu  Islands to stamp out the MNLF rebellion was pursued on the protect that ASG forces were hiding there.

The continuing MNLF rebellion

When high-ranking commanders turned their backs on Misuari and served the government instead, there was hope that the MNLF rebellion would be put to an end. The council of Fifteen ousted Misuari in 2001 and chose to occupy seats on the ARMM. Prominent among these is Muslimen Sema of the Kutawato State Revolutionary Command, now Mayor of Cotabato City. For not joining this anti-Misuari conspiracy, military and government officials — and national media — (re)invented the word “renegrades,” granting the council of Fifteen “main MNLF faction” status and calling the field commanders who have remained loyal to Misuari “renegrades,” and “an MNLF breakaway group.” Leading this group is Ustadj Habier Malik who heads the MNLF Jabar Uhod Command which covers the eastern part of Jolo, and Khaid Ajibon, Chairman of Lupa Sug State Revolutionary Committee.

Dismayed at the council of Fifteen’s action, Commander Malik refused to talk against his former comrades and would rather blame the military and the President of bribing the MNLF top cadres. Nabi nila ni kumander sin MNLF katan. Four million. “They had bought the MNLF commanders. At reports and for the money making business of the military top brass. In operation hipagkaw’ record iban hikasin sin military. Understand, he said, that those in high offices, had to work closely with those in the ground. Hati kaw, Inda’, nagsusud in parkala’ ha taas iban ha baba’.

Ustadj Habier Malik led the attack on the military brigade command post in Barangay Seit poblacion on 06 February 2005. The offensive, which set off the siege on Jolo for nine days, was in retaliation for the killing for the killing of a Moro family perpetrated by AFP soldiers. On 01 February 2005 military soldiers strafed the house of the Padiwan family in Sitio Baunu Ice, Barangay Kapuk Punggul in the municipality of Maimbung, killing five of the seven occupants, including the Padiwan couple, their thirteen-year-old child Aldasir, another three-year-old child Aljismal, and the relative. The eldest son, fourteen-year-old Alsid, was spared because he got up early to sell native rice cakes. The other survivor, seven-year-old Almujayal, was hit on the right hand and survived, but left the hospital against doctor’s advice because of threats from military soldiers. The seconf child died later in a hospital. As this was not the first atrocity committed by military soldiers against civilians in recent time, the residents sought justice through the help of the MNLF. The battle that followed made Panamao and Indanan a target of an intensive military operation that caused residents to evacuate to the adjacent municipalities of Panglima Estino, Luuk, and Jolo. By the second week of February 2006, about 5,000 soldiers were deployed in the area. This included the 9th, 7th, and 4th battalions of the Marine Brigade, an infantry division of the army belonging to the 33rd, 35th and 54th IBs), and several units of the AIR Force (Interview with Habier Malik, 02 February 2006).

Data gathered from the Department of Social Welfare and Decelopment (DSWD) Provincial Office and the Philippine National Red Cross (PNRC-Sulu) disclosed that as of 24 March 2005, the displaced was at 9,879 families or about 57,900 persons. Another NGO working with IDPs, Balay, reported that as of 09 June 2005, about 13,440 families composed of 85,532 persons were affected. To date, one evacuation center at Timbangan, Indanan remains open, sheltering fifteen families or about sixty-eight individuals while 1,586 families or about 8,407 individuals are still served outside. Up to the present, armed clashes between the AFP and Moro armed groups still continue to force thousands of civilians to leave their homes and farms. The number of deaths between the warring forces is much harder to account. The Southern Command (Southcom) placed their casualties at seventy-nine soldiers not counting the wounded, while MNLF estimated some 300 dead on the enemy side. Interviews with civilians also put the number of the dead on the military side by the hundreds, on the MNLF side at less than ten. Magkahagad kaw. Bukun san kapituwan tagsiyam in miyatay kanila. Giyatusan sa yan diyandi hadja ba Bwanda, uway pa lamud in ba hanispak. “Listen. It could nut be that only seventy-nine died on their side because here in Bwansa alone, a hundred died. And more died on the other side.” The “other side” refers to Panamao where battles were fiercer. It was there that Brigadier General Dennis Villanueva, Commanding General of the 35th IB of the Philippine Army died. When news of the general’s death was broadcast, it was said that people shouted Allabu Akbar (God is great), like justice has been served for the death of the child in the Padiwan family as well as for other injustices suffered in the past in the hands of soldiers. There was likewise a sense of redemption, and a sense of gratefulness for the protection that the MNLF had provided the bang a. A local resident spoke so:Magsarangsukul Kita awn pa MNLF nagbawgbug katu. Bang uway na madayus iyan kita sin mga tau “We should be grateful there is still the MNI.1: to defend us. If not for them people would just trample us under their feet” (Interviews, February 2006).

While national media and military officials tend to downplay, if not deny, this claim to victory, local people generally feel the enemy has been beaten. Even children narrating their experiences of the February battles showed in their drawings soldiers who kept on falling down the hill. Commander Malik himself counted five dead on his side. In Bwansa, two MNLI: cadres were killed, but according to residents these two committed a parrang sabil and went after the retreating soldiers. Before this act the two were said to have told people to please get their bodies because they felt that it was their time to die now.  People interviewed expressed no sense of loss for these two deaths because according to them, the two died a most noble death and had killed many enemies (Interviews, February 2006). The casualties on the AFP side were such that in an interview with Commander Malik he advised wives and families of Filipino soldiers from Luzon not to go to Mindanao (Interview, 02 February 2006). Residents are of the opinion that the AFP forces could have not entered Jolo without the collaboration of local government officials. A citizen of Panama° revealed that MNLF integers arc being used by the military as assets to penetrate the MNLF (Interview, 02 February 2006). In an interview, MNI.F Commander Khaid Ajibon said that they declared a “state of war” against the Philippine government not only in Sulu but also in other areas of operation of the MNLF in Mindanao (Interview with local media, February 2006).

For all the adversity that had come to pass in the history of the MNLF, what remains enduring seems to be the ordinary fighter’s and the ordinary peasant’s loyalty to Maas Misuari. Bapa’ Barjaya’s idea of peace in the homeland, for instance, is attached with the jailed Misuari’s freedom from imprisonment. Bang di’ makaguwa’ in Maas, in bilu masi sa’. Bang iyan makaguwa’ misan in Abu Sayyay yan malawa’ ra. Iban in military di’ makapissuk bang gi Misuari ba guwa’. “For as long as the Old Man is in prison, conflict is here to stay. But once he is released, even the Abu Sayyaf will be gone. And even the military will listen once Misuari is free.”

The displaced

Rather used to armed tension, thanks to the frequent sightings of military men and armed rebels roaming the countryside, not to mention bandit groups and local security forces of warring politicians, the people of Sulu Islands, particularly of Indanan and Panama°, were unusually distressed during the last military bombardment because they had been forcibly driven out of their homes. In the other military operations and armed fights, particularly those directed at Abu Sayyaf forces following the declaration of “total war” by former President Estrada in 2000, people managed to stock food and stayed in their houses as both soldiers and rebel forces just passed by. In the last war, they had been particularly overwhelmed by the size of the military battalions deployed — from the original 3,000 to 5,000 troops by 15 February 2005 — which included Army, Marine, Navy units, and a company-size US trained Light Reaction Force (Kalinaw, March 2005). By 20 February 2005, or a good two weeks since hostilities broke out, more than 26,000 people were displaced. Affected were at least seven municipalities; namely, Panglima Estino, Jolo, Panamao, K. Caluang Karungdung, Parang, Patikul, and Luuk Camp Andres.

Help came from government offices, church groups, schools, and business groups nearby and, so much later from NGOs. But all the height of the conflict the local branch of the National Food Authority (NFA) ran out of rice stocks. Transportation of available relief goods supply was moreover hampered by the ongoing fighting (Kalinaw, March 2005). Because relief came on the assumption that there was hunger, there was not much time for help groups to think about minimum dietary requirements of local people. For instance, one list of relief beneficiaries from the DSWD showed that goods and noodles.” Far from nutritious to begin with, these hardly made up the rural Taosug’s food basket. Staple food in Sulu for most inhabitants is pangi and fish, but nowhere in the records of relief assistance did these items appear. It was months later before a water facility was figured out and so far no temporary sanitary toilets came with the temporary shelters. Seemingly, the recipient unit in the food distribution is the nuclear family, and considering the lack of knowledge of donor groups about local people and cultural practices, resource allocation might have been arbitrary determined and, likely disruptive of local culture.

Be that as it may, the amount of help that came would have not been procured if there had been procured if there had been not enough educative and advocacy activities done by NGOs and church groups on behalf of the Muslims. One report showed that by 09 June 2005, the total cost of assistance was at PhP7,352,795.00. The bulk of this amount, PhP3,735,320.00, was coursed through DSWD. NGOs contributed a total of Php2,355,975.00, while LGUs donated a total of PhP1,261,500.00 (Balay RDIP, n.d.). The same report stated that as of 09 June 2005 13,440 families composed of 85,532 persons have been affected, with a total of 1,601 or 8,475 individuals still being served by relief organizations. As of this writing, most of these displaced people have either moved into their relatives’ places or have rebuilt their houses in their old home villages.

People’s perceptions on the war

During past military operations, as in the year 2000 when Estrada waged an anti-terror war and deployed military forces to cleanse Sulu and Basilan of ASG operatives, Panamao and Indanan residents did not evacuate. Soldiers would just pass by, just as the tau guwa (rebels) would just pass by. The February battle was the first military operation staged in their own village, just a few hundred meters away from where their houses stood. Magkari in sundalo sah di’ pagkaingon, saputika sin amu in naghappen ini. Hangkan na laungku pamasyakan sin sundalu pasal na bang yan makakaei in contingent sin sundalum ayuputan sin barrio. An informant related that in that particular day the soldiers did not bother to set foot in the house of the barangay captain despite his son’s chasing after them and telling them to have coffee. He was trying to stop them from marching into their deaths because they were going to the direction which the residents knew to be the boundary the MNF has set their firing line. But they could not be detained and went directly ahead and in a couple of minutes the firing happened. Amura in pagbunu’ na ini di’ na mabaya’ humapit in sundalu bat iyapas namu’ madtu iban sin anak diyaak na kami, ‘kadtua niyo laung na in sundalu painuma niua naa mari kahawa.’ Na wayruun na. Di namu’ na maguyud, na direct sila na . . . na  naglubak na. The barangay captain believed that had the soldiers listened, nothing would have happened to them. Pagka amun himaput na sila, wayruun da naghappen way unu sabab. Hatiku maulung sa isab in atu ba guwa. “The rebels do pity them, I think” (Interview with “Manny”, February 2006).

Surprisingly, the residents of Bwansa seem to them come to accept war as something that have to live with. Asked what they think of the war, a respondent replied., “There’s nothing you can do. So we just look and watch. If they come to us we just talk it out with them. For as long as they don’t do us any harm. The trouble is when the military overtake the rebels, for that will be the end of them, for they will be ambushed, and that means war.” Na way na sadja. Mangatud-ngatud na sadja kami. Dahun na namu’ sa sadja magmiting bang sila dih da isab mag-inu-inu . . . Bang sila kalihuyan gumawa na amu in magbunu’ na sadja, sabab yaun sila hiyahapaan.

Forty six-year old former MNLF cadre Bapa Barjaya related that beginning 2000 alone, he had rebuilt his house four times already, as every time there was an operation the military would burn the houses. “They would set to fire all the house they happened to pass by. And if they came upon cows, they would take them, too. Just this last evacuation (February 2005 operations) when they even took our shoes.” Pagsunugun nakauna yadtu in katan kabayan bang mag-operation sila. Sa sukun sin kalabayan nila sunugun nila ubusun. Bang awn abutan nila manga sapi’ dahun nila. Kita kaw ha pagpaguy ini pa manga sapatos namu’ piyagkawa’.

Long alienated from mainstream development processes, many have grown cynical about current efforts at uplifting Lupa Sug. As far as the Moro struggle is concerned, many don’t see an end to it soon. Nor is an end necessary. A seventy-year old farmer from Sitio Talibang had this to say: “For an educated Taosug like me, no law can settle armed conflict to avenge the death of a relative. As you can see here, even those highly educated and big-time politicians take the law in to their own hands and it did not make any difference in the end.” A forty-five year old widow seconded: “This is the world we had grown up with. We knew no other. This is something we have to put up with. The government program on peace and development — anything to do with peace and order does not interest us one bit.”

Government officials appear to be echoing these views. The DSWD Provincial Director of Sulu said: “These military operations, peace consultations, public hearings are all but an exercise in futility.” In Sulu, she further said, one has no business doing politics if he doesn’s have the money (Interview with Ms. Maydelyn Bahjin, February 2006). Residents in Jolo said that the Brigade officials are actually the most powerful entities during election time. Not only were they given the duty to keep peace and order that elections may be held in this hot-spot country, they were also given the power to guard and switch ballot boxes (Interviews, February 2006).

It is thus not surprising that people feel hopeless towards ever getting any help from the authorities, be it in war or in peace. Asked whether they report violations committed by the military to any office, many said they don’t. If bad comes to worse, they just pack up and flee. Uway na pagsumbung, magpaguy na hadja. Misan una in kumugdan uway ra mahinang namu’. Madtukaw pamilitary di’ ka kaw dapitan, gamman lumugay kumangi’ pa kita. Aban, di ka hikagawa’ katu’ in kasabunnalan. Iban bang military ra in pagumbungan uway ra lagi, marayaw pa kita nagduruhung. “No more. Just evacuate. No matter what you do, there’s nothing that can be done. You go to the military and they will not hear your side, by and by they will turn against you. You go to others and they will just hush you up. The truth will not come out anyway. Rather than run to the military, better to sit it out and stare into space.”

Even government’s relief and rehabiliation operations for the evacuees are hardly appreciated. Asked what help has been given them at the height of the evacuation, people appeared unaware that there was any. Asked further what else may be done to minimize the impact of the war, they seemed indifferent. “We don’t know. It’s all up to you what help you can offer us. But this we ask from God, that may there be a little peace in this land. We wouldn’t ask for anything more but that. That we may able to look after our livelihood, be able to sleep well, then that will be a lot to thank for. That we may work our land, our coconut farms, our harvest . . . ” Inday baha.’ Bang ha biya kaniyu bang unu isab in hikatabang niyo kamu.’ Hangkan na ini in pangayu’ namu’ pa Tuhan, pangayu duwaa bang manliminaw in hula.’ Misan uway na unu-unu basta kami makausaha na pahula’ makatug na kami didtu sa hula’ namu’ in yadtu malagu’ na pagukulan namu’ sabab makausaha na kami sin lupa’ namu’, sin lahing namu’, sin lanut namu bihan. . .

For all the unrest prevailing in the area, the government’s only response appears to be militaryin nature. Said Ustadj Malik Habier: “Do not ever let the military handle the solution to this armed conflict, because we will always fight back!” People are however aware that all this violence and conflict in Sulu is just a symptom of a social restlessness that had deep historical and psychological roots (Interview with the Municipal Secretary Hadji Nurl Tingkasan, 03 February 2006). Of late, rehabilitation and construction efforts have been in sway with the US Forces playing important role. But even these are resisted. A barangay captain, apparently unable to take the sight of Milikan (Americans) building the school and mosque their children and they would go to, took to task the governor overseeing the building work: Mayta’,di’ mahinang sin kitaniyu in magpatindug sin iskul, sin masjid, sin manga karandanan? “Why can’t we ourselves make the schools, the mosque, all these roads?”

Children of War

Sessions with the children elicit views and experiences of the war, often focusing on their encounters with the soldiers and armed groups. it was startling to note that at their young age, they look at their present predicament as normal as any other ordinary day. Di’ da isab magpangunu in sundalu kamu.’ Magpanglunsulan san kami mawn pa kampu nila magpanayam. “The soldiersdon’t mind us. We sometimes go and play near their camp.” They also said that neither the militar nor the Moro armed groups harassed them. Their only worry is when they see military tanks and battalions of soldiers on foot patrol, equipped with high-powered arms passing by their area as OV-10 planes roam the skies. According to them, this is an indication that anytime soon they and their families will have to be on the alert.

Observance of soldiers’ gear has also given some children certain ideas. A seven-year old boy expressed desire to be in the armed force someday. “I want to be a soldier, a police, or even a scout ranger, anywhere as long as there is pay!” Mabaya’ aku magsundalu, misan pulis atawa ranger, mabaya’ aku basta awn gadji’!

Seemingly, the more serious problems affecting them are health-related. Many get sick and malnourished at the evacuation center. The parents are also more worried about the effects of war on their children’s education. Because of the endless war exercises in their villages, children’s attention are taken away from their schooling. Parents are afraid that the young children will grow up illiterate like them.

Many relief and rehabilitation NGOs offering psychological therapy for war victims are of the opinion that this long experience of war will have traumatic consequences for young children and will likely turn them into “war freaks” who “enjoy playing with toy guns.” These NGOs are more worried that children taking classes in the presence of the military men will suffer from strong psychological effects when they grow up (Balay RDIP, a photocopy, n.d). This is such an effete attitude reflecting middleclass attitude towards wars and struggles. While there is no doubt that these children would be more comfortable and might be better educated without a war affecting their growth and psychological development, there is no definitive evidence to show that people who grew conscious of the reality of war in their early years have more psychological problems than those priviledged with overprotected upbringing . The most immediate and visible effects on children, as far as war is concerned, is the closure of schools and non-delievery of health services. However, poor educational opportunities and health services have only been aggravated by war. Other problems endemic to local culture and politics have logn retarded the educational development of children in Moro areas.

The February 2005 battles: Stories

Ay-aykum Sayam

We were on our way home from the Barangay Councilor’s house when we met this woman grazing her cow. She looked beautiful with her waist-long curly hair  and rounded body, through her face looked tired. We went to her and asked her if she were among those who evacuated at the height of the military operation in February 2005. She gave us a look that betrayed her doubt of our intensions. Perhaps because we told her we were Taosugs or perhaps it was because of my companion’s talkativeness that she soon eased into converdation with us. When we asked her again to tell us about the battle between the Philippine Army and the MNLF Breakaway Group in February, a frown crumpled her face. Then she brought us to her house.

Stepping into the doorway, we came upon the remains of the February 2005 operations and Babu. Addang herself broke into a storm of words. She said she went back to her abode to put some order into the house that she and her husband speedily left in the haste of the evacuation when she found out that the soldiers had set up camp there. Pagkawn-kawn ko rang liyalarak na in lawang, in titimbakan nila piyallasut sa tandawan. The house was a wreck, the soldiers’ gun barrels jutting out of the window.

She entered, climbing the three-stepped ladder and greeted the strangers Assalamu Alaikum. One of the soldiers returned her greeting, though he apparently did not speak Taosug for he stammered “Ay-aykum sayam.” Another soldier addressed her in Taosug, complimenting her for the nice house she got and asking if she had an unmarried daughter. Ina’, malingkat in bay mu, awn kaw anak budjang? She told him none as all her children are married now, and then he asked if there was liniment or rubbing alcohol as he needed a massage. “I said, poor boy, when you leave my house don’t take our kitchen utensils. I was not able to carry them because I am sick with breast cancer, and they were too heavy for for me.” She also saw that they used her big cooking pot and  that they ate in the terrace. She told them not to take the pot when they leave and she then quitted the house.

The soldiers stayed in the barangay for more than a week, occupying the vacated houses. Civilians kept away for fear that they would be suspected for supporting the Abu Sayyaf Group or the MNLF. The soldiers practically turned their domiciles into boarding houses, taking liberty with everything they found. They also took off with the things they deposited at the public school — clothes, radios, pots and pans, and other valuables. The morning after they left, the residents went back to their homes. “You would think the devil himself came this way.” Bunnal bunnal laung ku in manga sundalu ini paddam panas tuud. ” I said these were soldiers straight from hell. They took off with our water containers, the knives, the pots, my lamp, even the frying oil, and children eggs!” She and her husband bought food supplies because they thought they could stay in their house, like before, because the other years during military operations the soldiers just passed by the village. Nagbi kami manga kapanyapan, kakaun, bahasa laung namu’ way ra san pag-ig, nagpamimi kami pagkaun namu’ supaya laung namu’ di’ na kami magkadtukadtu pa patabu’. May ba yaun pa sibuyas-sibuyas ka rang. Inda’ pa sukal-sukal, pa ginis-ginis na… bugas, labing, lara-lara piyagkawa.” they stocked food so they need not to go to the town buy their supplies during the war. They did not expect that the soldiers would take ecerything. “Even the onions, sugar, rice, pepper…” They even forced her clothes trunk open. Manglapas tuud! Manglapas tuud biya’ kanila. . . in nakaiyan na aku, bang badja laung ku bukun awm pagbaugbugan ta amun nakura’ mayol laung ku bihan, way lumingkat laung ku magsama-sam pa brigade, maglapal kita kita laung ku bihayan… kiyaingatan mu na bang kita ini mayamasu’ na…. pamanik-manuk namu’ ba Inda’ bang ikaw kumita’ sin bulbul ha kid-kid sin paunan sin byabas yaun… alla apu’ ku bat way ha tuwan kiyapin! Magsarang sukul sa kuman kami uway piyagdapugan in manga kabahayan namu.’ “If you’ve seen the house after they left! Thieves, I said. If only we are not supporters of the mayor, we should like to report them to the Brigade Commander. When you are angry… who would not be angry? Coming upom your house like that, your chicken feathers scattered under that guava tree there… nothing left! I’m just glad they did not set fire to our house!” (Interview with Babu Addang, February 2006).

So you want to know who are the IPDs in Lupa Sug?

When we asked our local guide Manny to find us a respondent who could share about her or his experience with armed conflict, he immediately brought up Bapa Barjaya’s name. Bapa Barjaya Baddang, according to Manny, got himself caught in the gunfight between government forcer and local rebels that took place in Sitio Talibang, in the boundary of Barangay Karawan and Barangay Bwansa in Indanan.

We soon found out that Bapa Barjaya’s experience with war went as far back as 1973 when he was only in second year high school at Notre Dame of Jolo. He dropped out of school to join the MNLF, since all men young and old were anyway suspect to the military. Boys in their teens were going over to the MNLF camp, as they would rather die that get picked up and jailed for just being a Taosug Muslim.

Now forty-six, married twice with seven children and some grandchildren, Bapa Barjaya thinks that life has not changed a bit. “Evacuate here, hide there, just as before!” Only this time, instead of Nur Misuari, it’s Khaid Ajibon who is in command. It is however the same MNLF, and the same government they are fighting. Wayruun tuud kami yan nakananam parasahan daing katagna’ ha parinta ini! Never for once did this government lend us a little peace.

Bapa Barjayas’ family is well known in Sitio Talibang. They own some thirty-five hectares of lanf planted with coconut, abaca, and fruit trees. He said that if only there was enough peace to leave them at length at a time, his family would have been among those who got rich just from the produce of their lands. But the endless bombardment of their village did so much to destroy their livelihood. His own house had to re rebuilt at least four times now, having been burned down four times. The house with stood the last bombing although it now leans slightly to one side. A bomb fell into the orchard next to it, creating a big hole on the ground and searing the fruit trees black.

The soldiers used bazooka, for there was rumor of ASG spotted in Sitio Talibang. His neighbors and other members of the family were quick to evacuate. For staying behind, Bapa Barjaya got strafed by the military and was hit by bullets in the abdomen. “Here. My remembrance of the last battle with the soldiers,” he said, proudly showing us his scars. We asked Bapa why he chose to remain in his house when he knew that the place was being bombarded. “You see, child, I had to keep watch for our property.”

Bapa further related that soldiers did not catch any Abu Sayyaf militia. Uway ba Abu Sayaf ha taasan ini! Duwal dakuman baha bang hat lumabay sa di namu’ isab kaingatan bang ASG sila kannal namu’ pagkahi ta madtu pa mga hansipak yaun. “There are no Abu Sayyafs in these hills. Armed men did pass by that way or this way but Bapa Barjaya would not know if they were with the ASG. We thought they were just ordinary civilans, just like us, on their way to their farms.”

Bapa Barjaya also told of the time when the Abu Sayyaf first began its activities in Lupa Sug and someone came up to him and offered him two million pesos just so he would allow them to stay in their village for a few days. He turned them down, told them he did not need two million pesos. He was more concerned for the safety of his family. In waktu pagpa-awn sin Abu Sayaf, awn nag-negotiate kaku’, dumibil 2M dumuun humali-hali hadja. In agi ku, bukuan ku kalagihan in alta’, di’ ku kaun in kampung ku 2M pilak mabut pa bula ku laung ku. Di’ aku mabayah sin bihadtu. Pag-ubus di’ aku mabayah duunan. At another time, Taosug strangers came to the sitio and slept in one of the farmer’s houses. Bapa Barjaya went to the field and asked that same farmer about this, but was told by him that he did not know the tau guwa’ (outsiders) either. Until someone reported to the Brigade Commander that he was coddling armed rebels in his place. He had to go to the Brigade Commander himself to explain and inform him that he was able to make the armed men leave. The Brigade Commander thought him to be a rebel himself, or how else could he have asked the armed to leave just that. Tinanong nila ako kung totoo may mga tao duon sa lupain namin. Inamin ko, oo. ikako, pero hindi ko ito kagustuhan pumunta sila duon. Dagdag ko pa, napaalis ko rin and mga taong ito. Tinanong ko uli kung bakit ko napaalis. Ang suspetsa nila armado din ako. Sabi ko wala po talaga akong armas. Inulit ang tanong kung bakit ko napaalis ang mga di kilalang taong iyun nang ganun na lamang. ” I told them (the military) that you don’t deal with stubborn people in a stubborn way also or you end up killing one another.  I told the Brigade Commander that I begged the strangers to leave because we civilians do not want to get involced in their war. I said to them that if they reconcile with government then I am willing to house them in the village even if they number up to a few hundreds. But for as long as they are at war with government, then I don’t want them here in my place. So they left. But actually, they were just passing by. They were on their way to another mountain.” Sabi ko naman, and taong matapang at matigas ang ulo di mo makuha daanin sa patigasan din ng ulo. Magpatayan kayo nyan kung patulan mo ang katigasan ng ulo ng kabila at walang mangyayari. Basta and sinabi ko sa mga taong ito — patawarin nyo ho ako, pero kaming mga sibilyan dito ayaw naming sumali sa gulo nyo subalit kung kayo ay maka-reconcile with the government, kahit pa kayo by the hundreds pwede kayo tumuloy at mamalagi dito sa akin. Pero hangga’t hindi pa kayo magkasundo with the government ayoko muna dito kayo mamalagi… kaya umalis na rin sila. Ang totoa nun dumaan lang sila papuntang kabilang bundok.

Bapa Barjaya said that people in the village are actually used to seeing strange (armed) men in transit. The strangers were not doing any harm so they just let them be. They only encounter problems when soldiers on patrol looking after. Abu Sayyaf men would come, because once the two parties cross path, it is the civilians, who are bound to suffer the encounter. Yun nga lang pag may mga sundalo nagpapatrol o naghahabol ng sabi nilang mga ASG, at kung magpang-abutan sila tiyak kaming mga sibilyan ang unang madisgrasya! But it is not only the rebels, said Bapa Barjaya, that have been sending them to evacuate. Clan wars common in Sulu islands have long been turning them into “war victims.” Kahit nga sa alitan ng mga magkalabang pulitiko, kami pa rin mga ordinaryong tao ang nabibiktima dagdag pa nito.

“You want to know who are the IDPs here in Sulu and how many? I tell you, get the record of the entire population in Sulu, including our children and grand children, not counting those who escaped to Sabah, and you have the number of the IDPs that you want.” Aykawnaa Inda’, kaa niyu na in record sin population sin Sug, sambil anak apu’ namu’, uway pa lamud in yatdu na ha mga Sabah!). “For ever since I can remember, we never ran out of military operations, of ridos, political rivalries, encounters between military and any armed group. This has been our way of life here. Evacuating, moving from one barangay to another, and then moving back to our homes as soon as the fighting subsides. I think this has become our life. It has always been this way. And if I may say it, none of us residents of this province can claim his or her families were not internally displaced for repeatedly experiencing the same situation again and again and again. Look at what has become of our properties, of our economic activities? I myself did not anymore want to count the number of times we built and rebuilt our houses, our farms. Di’ ku na hika-istori, sa’ atura niyu rakuman in parasahan namo. Need I tell you no more? Just look at our condition” (Interview with Bapa Barjaya Baddang, February 2006).

In Lupa Sug, Lupag Sug da

Kaka Jamail has been working in the local government for almost twenty years now. He has been witness to the many wars and armed conflicts staged in Lupa sug — whether they be between AFP soldiers and local fighters or between rival warlords and local politicians. His position in the local government, ironically, has made him lose his faith in any concept of peace and order or local governance for that matter. “If I tell you what I know,” he told us, “they’re quite a lot. But I have to look out for myself, and I have to protect my constituency.” Bang ku bibayta kaniya in kaingatan ku, mataud. Sah hiyallian ku in baran ku iban raayat ku.

Lupa Sug will always be Lupa Sug, he said emphatically. In hula’ ini, bukun biya’ sin hula dugaing. Misan da tu adlaw ampa iyukub kakitaan mu awn kasambuhan. Sa’ in Lupa Sug, Lupa Sug, da. Other towns and cities grew and developed like the rest of the world, but Lupa Sug is unlike any other. One need not ot go far to look. Zamboanga, he cited for one, had in only three days become a commercial city. Di na kita magpalaya”, mawn na hadja kita pa-samboangan. Way parinta dayndi ha Lupa Sug, magkahagad kaw. But in Sulu, there is no government, no law and order. Bang awn kakitaan mu duwa military najil ampa kaw magkahagad awn parinta. “If your can find two soldiers in jail, then you may say there is law and order”. And in times of war, no mayor, governor, congressman is powerful enough to do anything as it is the military who is in control.” In gubuol, mayor, kongrisman, bang satu awn bunu’ uway mahinang pasal under control ra sin military. Deployed therein to keep law and order, the military is apparently perceived by most residents as a power broker engaged in some other job than peacemaking. During election, candidates who win are bound to lose if they aren’t close enough to the General. The Brigade connives with the Comelec to direct the ballot results.

One big bone of contention that can bring on violent confrontations between rival political clans is the IRA. Hambuok pagbubunuan di ha Sug among politicians na in IRA na yan. Na, magkahagad kaw kaku’, pagpatayan tuud san in IRA. “Believe me, child, they will kill and die over that IRA” (Interview with Kaka Kamil, February 2006).

Hikasin sin Military

Ustadj Habier Malik, Commanding Officer of the MNLF Jabar Uhod Command in the eastern part of Sulu, and MNLF Central Committee Member, led the initial attack on the military camp at Barangay Seit, Panamao, Sulu on 06 February 2005. The offensive lasted for nine days, counting as casualty his residential compound in Barangay Binatag, 700 meters away from the crossing where an army detachment stood. The military reported this to media as his camp. The exchange of fire burned fifteen houses and four mangosteen trees in the compound. Other affected areas included barangays Seit Lake Poblacion, Tanduh-Tanduh, Kulay-Kulay, and Tayungan.

It was the military, said Commander Malik, who started the war, in violation of the peace agreement. Sila in timagna.’ Liyarak nila in agreement. On the the pretext of going after the ASG, the military has been fielding its forces to wipe out the MNLF. In 2002, the military violated the peace agreement when it attacked an MNLF camp killing seven men. On the same day, another attack was also made on another MNLF camp killing one man. “The military will always justify their operations in our area on the pretext of ASG presence. But we, Inda’, only fight for our bangsa.”

The military, Commander Malik said, had also bought MNLF provincial commanders, at four million pesos each. And the war in Sulu is not likely to stop in the immediate future. In operations hikasin sin military. Pila kunu’ in hambuuk punglu’ sin M14? PhP 28.50 each. In anti-tank PhP9,000.00 Plus in manga punglu’ iyan pagbihun namu’ da isab ha military. “The military makes money from war. How much is a bullet of an M14? PhP28.50 each. An anti-tank mortar shell is PhP9,000.00. Plus we also buy bullets from the military” (Interview with Commander Malik, 02 February 2006).

Some updates and analyses

Walang ibang intensyon ang pagdating ng mga tropang Amerikano kung hindi matulungan kayo na maiangat ang ating pamumuhay sa kahirapan (There is no other intention with the arrival of American troops, except to help you lift your lives out of poverty). – Marine Brigadier General Ben Dolorfino

The conflict in Sulu Islands – and the entire Mindanao for that matter – appears to be a long way yet, despite the continuing clamor for peace and the broadening peace movement that desires it. NGOs, relief organizations, and conflict transformation agenda notwithstanding, Lupa Su appears to be wired up for more battles, if the voices of those who cherish the land most are to be heard. Though the prospect may be grim, it is however closer to the truth than what most government spokesperson and church-based NGOs can say.

The Arroyo government and the Southcom

Adamant in her project of installign peace in Mindanao, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (GMA) continues to push for her peace agenda using all resources at her disposal. While fielding generals to run after what she likes to call “MNLF renegrades” on the pretext of going after Abu Sayyaf, her government resorts to bribery to get ex-MNLF commanders to support her and lend legitimacy to her “peace process.” This carrot-and-stick policy is no different from Marcos’ strategy in post-Tripoli period when he gave former MNLF commanders business concession and lucrative post in government.

On the second week of November 2005, Indanan and Panamao once again figured in another war when the combined forces of the Philippine Marines (PM) and the Scout Rangers of the 53rd IB of the Philippine Army (PA) made another operation against “terrorist elements.” Started in late afternoon of 11 November 2005, the firefight affected five MNLF controlled municipalities of Sulu; namely, Marang, Talibang, Pansul, Bakud, and Kagay (MNLF Statement, 17 November 2005). The war displaced families which numbered some 1273 or at least 7638 persons. This would increase to almost 10,000 after an Air Force plane and military choppers dropped flyers warning the people of impending fullscale military (MCPA, 02 December 2005). The operation-was justified by the AFP as part of the campaign to clear the islands of “remnants of the Abu Sayyaf Leadership,” a claim everyone else but government and the military could not accept. In a letter to GMA, the Bangsamoro National Congress, a Moro multisectoral alliance headed by Tawi-Tawi Governor Almarin Tillah, affirmed that the only group operating in Sulu is the MNLF. MNLF Secretary-General for Internal Affairs Ustadz Moshir Ibrahim himself testified that the fighting started some 500 meters aways from the MNLF state chairman Khaid Ajibon’s camp, which was recognized by the Government of the Republic of the Philippines (GRP) as an MNLF camp, and under agreement that no military men, not even the Philippine National Police (PNP), can visit without prior understanding and arrangement with the MNLF Father Dioni Cabillas of the MCPA said that as far as Mindanao is concerned, “the only clear and present danger. . . is not the legitimate liberation groups like the MNLF but the government’s sabotage of peace” (MCPA, December 2006).

Even as military tactics are regularly employed, diplomacy is not abandoned. Three months prior to the attack on Sulu, the MNLF-GRP Peace Working Group (PWG) was officially launced in Jolo, Sulu. An initiative with foreign funding, the PWG is participated in by the Provincial Government of Sulu, the MNLF, the AFP-PNP and leading members of the civil society. Recently, the Southcom in Zamboanga, in cahoots with the Office of the President, invited other MNLF commanders and fighters to a dialogue with military officials in the region over the yet unfinished work of integrating the MNLF cadres still unaccommodated in the AFP and PNP structure. This invitation has been apparently rejected by the MNLF rebels, as the sporadic fighting with AFP soldiers would indicate. The Southcom officials, as what locals generally know, stands to profit from both war and peace in Sulu Islands, but most especially from war and war exercises occasioned by the presence of the high-logistics US forces.

The Organization of Islamic Conference (OIC)

In May of this year, an OIC delegation visited key Muslim provinces and cities in Mindanao to assess the progress of the 1996 peace accord signed between the then president FVR and MNLF Commander Nur Misuari. The delegation went home with a pronoucement that the peace accord is a failure. The powerful Muslim organization likewise consistently rejected the Philippine government’s application for observer status in the Muslim countries Conference (Sunstar, 24 June 2006). A loyal supporter of the Muslim struggle, the OIC has consistently supported the leadership of Nur Misuari and had grated the MNLF permanent observer status in the pan-Islamic organization.

The Arroyo government will have to deal with this body in handling armed rebellion in Mindanao and in dealing with Nur Misuari because of the powerful international pressure it wields. To date the OIC continues to support efforts to implement the 1996 MNLF-GRP Peace Agreement and calls for a tripartite meeting and determine the modalities for a new joint monitoring committee, appeals for the release of Misuari, and calls for the MNLF’s unification with thet MILF.

The US forces and the Balikatan exercises

Between 06 February and 06 March 2006, Balikatan exercises were held in Sulu aimed at enhancing US role in Securing the Province from terrorist threats and enhancing the capabilities of Filipino troops. A series of military maneuvers was jointly undertaken by Filipino and American soldiers to improve coordination and combat readiness of the two forces and enhance security relations between the US and the Philippines. The Balikatan is part of the agreement entered into between the US and the Philippines under the Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA). Rejected in more vigilant cities in other parts of Mindanao, the VFA has been strongly defended by the military and acepted by local business and politicians in Zamboanga,Basilan and Sulu as good in combating terrorism. In Basilan, it has been credited for stamping out Abu Sayyaf activities. Brigader General Raymundo Ferrer went to the extent of saying that the scrapping of the VFA, as called for by certain segments of society, “will surely paralyze our efforts to upgrade the capabilities of our soldiers” (Manila Times, 23 January 2006).

In Jolo, the one month “humanitarial mission” of the US forces had been made possible by the cooperation of local government officials. Sulu Governor Benjamin Loong, for one, is one of its staunch supporters. For all good intent and purposes, there is general consensus that the Balikatan in Sulu is part of a war/peace strategy of the Philippine government in cooperation with the US to fight terrorists, which include all rebel groups. The deployemnt of US military forces in Sulu Islands for humanitarian assistance and civic projects comes with the training, equipment and intelligence information assistance to the AFP in their combat operations against armed groups operating in the area. If it is any comfort to the inhabitants of the islands, at least “the real intention of the US forces are clear to the MNLF” (http://www.newsflash.org/2004/02/hl/h1103582.htm).

The Moro Islamic Liberation Front

Notably absent in the Sulu Islands, the MILF in a strong presence in other parts of Mindanao, particularly in the provinces of Maguindanao and North Cotabato. In other Moro populated provinces it has a wide base of support from which it collects saddaqah from sympathizers. While MILF did emerge as the stronger force, especially when it fought an intense war in 2000, it failed to get the OIC recognition as representative of the Bangsamoro people. Moreover, its close links with fundamentalist Islam has made it unpopular to certain segments of the Moro society, as well as the Christian sectors. At ground level, MILF followers like to say that there is basically no difference between the MNLF and the MILF as they fight the same jihad and belong to one Muslim community. In practical  terms, however, unification of the two forces remains a long way yet, as development policies often put them in adversarial positions. For instance, jobs, livelihood projet, government posts, government posts, and economic concessions that privileged MNLF integrees served to marginalize and weaken MILF forces.

Moro politicians and the traditional elite

People of Indanan and Panamao are wont to say that military adventures and US intervention in the Sulu Islands would not have been possible without the collaboration of local politicans. MNLFs Habier Malik himself agrees so: Nagsusud in parkala’ ha taas iban ha baba.’ During the February humanitarian mission, despite resistance by barangay officials to Balikatan, the governor of Sulu himself took to the US forces’ defense. Supaya di na kitaniyu kahunitan, sumanyang pa in daira natu. But despite all this claim to improving the people’s economic condition, there is consensus among local people that the us presence in the Islands is far from benevolent, and no less than the Moro politicians are aware of this.

Traditional Moro politicians, Mindanao history would show, have always been the American and Philippine governments’ ally in its counterinsurgency projects. During the American period, Moro elite readily succumed to US policy of attraction via  the pensionado program. In Marcos’ time, many Moro traditional politicians and ex-MNLF commanders accumulated wealth and power by serving Marcos. Under the present dispensation this policy of bribing local powers — including former rebel commanders — to weaken insurgent forces is very much on the swing. In the capital town of Jolo and elsewhere in the province, it is common knowledge that high-ranking military officials would have not gotten rich from the underground economy of the south (including smuggling and kidnapping) if not for intimate link with local politicians.

With the pouring in of support from the international community, including big financial institutions and Church and civic organizations, government officials are highly visible in many peace dialogues, peace coventants, and like conflict settlement activities. Traditional conflict mediation structures such as the Council of Elders are even exploited to the hilt to lend sucess to this foreign-funded projects. NGOs, instead of critiquing and giving these multi-directed activities a critical perspective, seemingly hacve jumped on the bandwagon and adapted themselves into the company of government officials, working closely with the AFP, the PNP, and other local players to further legitimize all these processes.

Mindanao NGOs and peace advocates

Sulu has been of late a host not only to the humanitarian mission of the US forces, but to a parade of visitors coming from INGOs and local social development agencies committed to promoting peace and introducing economic development. Especially after the 1996 Peace Agreement betweeb the MNLF and GRP, a procession of donor agencies, notably headed by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and the United States Assistance for International Development (USAID), worked with local NGOs and people’s organizations (POs) to carry out peace and development projects. Most of these were infrastructure projects and livelihood for MNLF integrees. An independent impact evaluation is yet to be undertaken as regards the poverty alleviation component of these projects, but based on current situation and local perceptions, suffice it to say that not much has trickled down to the poorest of the poor.

Following the February 2005 war, NGO intervention in the Sulu Islands has greatly focused on relief and rehabilitation. While many of local development agencies do recognize that poverty alleviation remains an important agenda and is blamed for the continuing restlessness in the rural areas, many of the ongoing projects have no clear answer as to the structural obstacles that impede peace and development work. Improved roads, rural electrification, and water facilities, for the most part, have helped the business sector more than the basic farming and fishing sectors. And safe motherhood projects and day care services still have to reckon with culture-related hindrances.

For all their good intents and purposes, peace advocacy work and chirch-initiated dialogue projects hardly go beyond calling for “cessation of hostilities” and providing relief assistance to war victims and are far from  addressing the structural impediments to their hoped-for-peace and development. Most NGOs are also run by Good Samaritans from other faiths and are not knowledgeable about the local milieu. Often fielded by INGOS with predetermined peace agenda — and often with inflexible structures and policies — they are in Moro areas mostly only during crisis periods, as in war outbreaks, to distribute goods, talk peace, and carry out welfare missions. Understanding local history and politics, much more sympathizing with local perspective, is beyond their ken, thus, mability to stimulate and participate in local action. No wonder that community organizing work and capability-building programs, for failing to reckon with the sources of people’s cultural resistance, often look like artificial structures set up by development NGOs and disappear as soon as project term and funding end. Instead of effecting the desired development, outsider-originated initiatives often only succeed in corrupting the local environment.

Conclusions and recommendations

The situation in the Sulu Islands is by no means an isolated case. In many parts of Mindanao, war remains a continuing reality, and similar struggles for peace and development are waged. But whether the GMA government will succeed in delivering its promise of stamping out rebellion is a foregone conclusion.

We do agree that the attainment of peace in these areas is desirable, just as we agree that there is an imperative to integrate the minority and the marginalized peoples into the mainstream of the development process. We desire to see our children resume school and see ordinary people pursue gainful employment peacefully. But against these wishes, and after listening from the people of Indanan and Panamao, we too know that rebellion and armed conflict will stay on for a longer time in our country.

Below are some notes and recommendations which people engaged in peace building and rehabilitation efforts in Sulu might find useful.
1. Relief and rehabilitation work and emergency responses should try to approximate the needs of the local population. Lack of sensitivity to local culture (e.g., consumption needs) will reinforce people’s prejudices against the impertinence of donor agencies, whereas appropriate response will bridge the psychoemotional gap between donor groups and receiving groups and will most likely make the latter more communicative about their sentiments and needs.

2. While IDP status is temporary, the need for water and toilet facilities extends beyond evacuation period. Donor agencies might do better by providing basic health facilities during, as well as after, war. Help groups, in particular, may also be of more help if they begin to work with the displaced beyond just giving away food rations and medicines. This might include carrying on with some of the productive and social activities disrupted by war (e.g., such holding classes for young children, carpentry work for men, mother’s health sessions, etc.)

3. NGOs and activists in the peace alliance groups should assert themselves more by giving the formation a critical perspective and voicing people’s demands to address long-term problems. Most peace projects consist in building roads, mosques and schools that give short-term jobs to a few men and food-vending activities for women. These do not address demands for access in the employment and opportunity structures.

4. War has gendered effects, and in many armed conflicts women are made hostage by warring groups. In the 2000 anti-terror war, there were rumors of rape committed by soldiers against local women. NGOs engaged in documentation work might start looking into this aspect. Along this line, it might also be worthwhile to look at women’s participation in the local resistance movement. Contrary to popular notions, women are not just passive victims and active peace advocates. Many a rebellion has been fought with women’s active collaboration.

5. There is a need to reassess relief and rehabilitation work and what has been the impact of capital infusion via development NGOs in poor rural areas like the Sulu Islands. There is an observation that local people tend to view foreign and outsider help with distrust and contempt. This indicates that local people must have not felt anything beneficial from all this. Relief organizations are all over Mindanao and have been blamed for fomenting dependence among beneficiary groups. It might be better if research and human rights documentation work that reflect people’s views and demands is strengthened. The lack of research, in particular, might be responsible for the lack of critical perspective and the failure to give the peace movement a strategic direction.

6. Besides psychosocial therapy and distribution of dolls and teddy bears, children in evacuation centers may be better served with programs that focus on their health and nutrition needs. Alternative learning activities should be put in place, if possible, in coordination with the Department of Education (DepEd).

7. Demands for peace are mostly centered in urban renters close to media and also tend to reflect government agenda. Most advocacy groups, moreover, are based in the cities and only come to the war-afflicted areas during fact-finding missions. Representation of people’s voices and local perspective should come from the local area itself. People who have lived die armed conflict seem to have a deeper and broader understanding, of it and tend to look for solutions that are long-term. Ft- forts should be mule to encourage local participation in the (political) articulation of local problems. This might mean putting up alternative communication facilities not controlled by the establishment.