Hindi Mahirap Kami

No paran, disparan, deciden y matan 
De traje y corbata, con leyes arrasan 
Patriarcas, y jefes, o presidentes 
Patrones, y amos o terratenientes 
En nombre de Dios de seguridad 
En nombre de calma y tranquilidad 
De cruces, de formas, de imperios, coronas 
De credos, petróleo todo lo devoran 
Son terrorista de estados, criminales sueltos por todos lados 
Ahogan la vida desde su oficina, 
Mandando sus tropas a la muerte fija 
Culpables de hacer la tierra sangran, 
Culpables de comunidades matar, 
Culpables, culpables de niños llorar 
Culpables de la vida sepultar.

-Ana Tijoux, Oro Negro

As a foreigner living in the Philippines, one of the many privileges I have is that I can choose whether or not to really get involved in big events happening here. I can have my own opinions on the absurdities happening in the South China Sea, but I'm a citizen of one of the powerful countries trying to influence that conflict, not the underdog. I follow the presidential race here closely, but the fact that the slate of presidential hopefuls is iffy at best affects me far less than native Filipinos- which is a good thing for me, considering that the guy who promised to install a dictatorship and dump political rivals' corpses into the ocean (seriously) is actually one of the better candidates. 

On the other hand, my otherness doesn't exempt me from being (or at least trying to be) an ally in this country as well as my own. So when events like the one that's the topic of this journal entry pop into my radar, I feel like it's important for me to join in. I'm going to stop talking about myself and my feelings now though, because really, this isn't about me; it's about indigenous peoples in the Philippines being murdered and having their lands occupied. 

This week, UP Diliman, my partner university, was the host for a party of honored guests: 700 Lumad people from Mindanao, the southernmost island of the Philippines. Lumad is actually a catchall term for a large group of indigenous peoples living in the southern islands of the country; these particular visitors were from the Manobo and Bagobo groups, living in southeastern Mindanao, north of the city of Davao.  They've been traveling for over a week to get to Manila, and the nature of their journey is very much political: they're here to protest the fact that they're being indiscriminately murdered and driven out of their lands. They're here to protest that there's virtually no media attention given to it; they're here protesting that nothing is being done about them being indiscriminately murdered in their own homes in schools. 

Rough translation of the two main signs: "Do an impartial investigation of the involved officials of the Philippine Army. Sack Col. Purisima. File criminal and administrative charges" and "Immediate help with food and services to the evacuated Lumad in Surigao Sur".

"Indigenous" in the Philippines is a bit of a tricky term; it doesn't really refer to people descended from the original inhabitants of the country, as the vast majority of Filipinos are mostly or entirely of "native" descent. Instead, it's in reference to ethnic groups that were never really dominated by the Spanish or American colonizers, and maintain their traditional customs. They range from the Igorots in the mountains of northern Luzon to the seafaring Sama-Badjau of the far southern Philippines and Malaysia. The Lumads are those who are living in the mountainous parts of Mindanao. The groups who had come to protest have historically determinedly asserted their sovereignty over their ancestral lands and maintained their traditions, including dress, language, and social customs. Significantly, they attend alternative schools that are approved to teach a culturally sensitive curriculum that allows for their traditions and way of life. Unfortunately, this is a way of life that is seen as threatening to some.

If you want to read a complete account of the many, many abuses the Lumad have been suffering, you can find it here. Basically, they have been under attack since May of 2015 from various military and paramilitary groups, who accuse them of being allies of the communist New People's Army, a rebel group operating in the area. The paramilitary groups are essentially militias determined to fight against the NPA. They share the same goals as the Philippines Army, just without any pesky laws that prevent them from massacring civilians.
Militias have been invading Lumad villages and schools, shutting down the schooling program and killing prominent village leaders or anyone else who stood in their way. One of the most prominent victims was the head of the ALCADEV, the organization running the alternative schooling program, who was found hogtied with his throat slit. There have been numerous other people killed, raped, or tortured, especially those who were vocal about defending human rights. Meanwhile, both paramilitary and actual military groups have been rolling into villages and forcing their inhabitants out. Thousands are now living in refugee camps, including the families of most everyone who came down to Manila. The military claims it has nothing to do with the more serious cases, but it's an open secret that they've been supporting the paramilitaries with expensive weaponry and funding to carry out their dirty work. Meanwhile, the government has been cooperating in other ways, such as by mandating the shutdown of alternative schools, saying that they can only reopen if the old teachers are replaced by soldiers who teach only approved curricula. These are only some stories, but everyone I talked to had one of their own.

A poster with some pictures of the abuses- click to magnify at your own risk.

The Lumad camp just before sunset. Note the Fortress of Solitude Iglesia ni Cristo headquarters in the background. 

What are the reasons for the sudden invasions of indigenous lands and the widespread killings and dispossessions? The official reason is, as I mentioned, the NPA, the guerrillas who have been a thorn in the government's side since the 1960s. In some places they act as advocates of people in poorer communities, calling for land reform and other rights, whereas in general they prefer squatting in various rural areas and extorting "revolutionary taxes" from local residents, or assassinating politicians who stand up to them. I don't really want to defend them here, because they don't deserve it. There are allegations that they are encouraging some Lumad communities to ally with them against the government, which are probably at least partly true. On the other hand, they're often used as convenient scapegoats for state abuses.

If you ask the Lumad, though, there's a different reason: their ancestral lands happen to include some of the last virgin rainforest in the Philippines, as well as rich mineral resources. The Lumad have been steadfastly opposing any sort of extractive activity in their territory, however, much to the frustration of large mining and lumber companies, as well as the government and paramilitaries. And what better way to kick people off their land and deprive them of their rights to self-determination by saying that it's for their own protection?

Which of the two explanations are true? Personally, I'm a firm believer in the idea that there is never one single "truth" that excludes all others from legitimacy, and I suspect that's the case. Maybe the interests of the mining companies are just peripheral, and coincidentally happen to line up with those of the government. But then, this is something that's happened the world over. When it comes to the destructive extraction or disposal of natural resources, it's always the poor and the indigenous that suffer first. It's why ethnic minorities were massacred in Nigeria, and why toxic waste is usually disposed of in communities of color in the United States. It's not even based on political ideology, as displacing indigenous communities or protected areas in order to extract natural resources is a favorite activity of leftist governments as well- I'm looking at you, Bolivia and Ecuador.
It's why we need the establishment of strong human rights laws that will actually be upheld. It's why we need social movements that will hold the government accountable to the people, not just the other way around. It's why it's important to have people talking reasonably about problems and trying to find an equitable solution, but also people in the streets raising hell and making it impossible to ignore the justices happening in the first place. And it's definitely why the environmental justice movement can never be strictly a movement by and for wealthy white people in developed countries.

The Lumad supporting victims of Typhoon Yolanda (which didn't affect them): proof that social justice is and always will be intersectional.

A positive side of this whole thing is how welcoming and supportive the UP Diliman community has been to the Lumads. Not only did they host them, but they organized a huge rally the day they arrived (which I was unfortunately unable to attend) and numerous other events the week they were there. The chancellor of the university gave a speech at the opening rally, and varsity athletic teams helped set up the encampment and donated clothing. Students donated food and bedding, and made sure the camp was secure- an important element considering that there were military agents caught trying to infiltrate meetings. They also organized a solidarity night in the camp, which I attended with a friend, bringing some food to donate. The Lumad were more than welcoming to me and the rest of the visitors, eager to talk to us about what they were going through and share a little about themselves and their culture.

A Lumad elder and his translator. "It's the NGOs and churches we receive help from when we need it. Tumulong ang gobyerno sa patay-patay lang." (The government only helps with the killing)

"We're not like the rest of Filipino society. We respect women- we don't catcall them or anything like you see here."

This man, a datu (chieftain) had no doubt that the invasions were at the behest of big mining and logging companies; "It's about profit. We respect the land, they don't." 

Solidarity night ended with performances, both from the Lumads and from people from Manila. The man above was performing an extremely rap song, which was so quick I couldn't even tell which language it was in. One event I didn't manage to take a picture of was being approached by a pair of Lumad men who wanted to meet me because I was the tallest person they'd ever seen (not an uncommon occurrence here, trust me). I asked them (in broken Filipino) if they still had family back in their villages, and they shook their heads vigorously- they told me they were all either in Manila or back in refugee camps. "When the paramilitary came into our village, they didn't care who they killed, not even children."

This guy was part of a fairly well-known band from the 80s, apparently. Don't ask me which one it was, though. 

Performance from an indigenous dance troupe from UP.

I couldn't understand all of this drama performance, but I believe the girl is playing a Lumad, while the man is representing the government as a whole, pretending to "help" the Lumad by depriving them of their rights. 

The most emotional performance of the night was the one done by a group of Lumad children and teenagers. It must have been rehearsed, considering how flawlessly it was performed, but it was spoken with raw, genuine emotion. It wasn't sadness or fear though, it was anger- anger and defiance. It left many people in the audience crying, and me wishing that I spoke better Filipino. I could understand enough to get the gist of what they were saying, but not the details. And for a performance like that, I wanted the details. One sentence in particular stood out to me though- "Hindi mahirap kami." We're not poor. That was the sentiment I heard echoed over and over again, by individuals and performers. It wasn't a message of fear, despite the murders and dispossessions happening; it was one of pride and defiance. Pride of a culture that has survived hundreds of years, and three different colonizers, and defiance of a government, and perhaps an entire economic system, that claimed to know what their needs were and what was best for them. It's something that everyone in the country needed to hear, and perhaps something I needed to hear too, as a student of development trying to improve people's lives while trying to check my own privilege and subconscious orientalism. Not that the message was meant for me, or for my benefit, much as my white guy ego might have liked to think so. Nor was it for the rest of the audience, really. We all knew who it was for, it just didn't seem as if they were listening.

Hindi mahirap kayo, Lumad.

DISCLAIMER: This is a personal blog, and does not in any way represent the views of the US Department of State or the Fulbright Commission. I encourage readers to reach out with any complaints or inaccuracies.