Justice is slow

KIDAPAWAN, Philippines (CNS) — Justice is slow in the Philippines, but Father Peter Geremia is running out of patience as he awaits justice for the killers of a fellow priest.

Father Geremia is hoping that the country’s new president, Rodrigo Duterte, can cut through the impunity and corruption that the priest says have prevented bringing to justice the killers of Father Fausto Tentorio. The Italian missionary was shot to death on Oct. 17, 2011, just outside his parish office in the rural town of Arakan on the southern island of Mindanao, where he had helped indigenous communities organize to resist the theft of their lands by foreign mining companies, loggers, and large agro-export plantations.

Father Geremia, who was born in Italy but became a U.S. citizen in 1971 after living in the United States for more than a decade, is a member of the Pontifical Institute for Foreign Missions, as were Father Tentorio and two other priests assassinated in Mindanao. One of them, Father Tullio Favali, was murdered in 1985 by military-linked assassins who thought they were killing Father Geremia. Six men were convicted of that killing and served lengthy prison terms. But that’s not the case with Father Tentorio’s killers, who remain officially unidentified despite multiple investigations and a Byzantine trail of confessions and recantations by people with links to a paramilitary squad.

Father Geremia says the church got several key witnesses to Father Tentorio’s killing into a witness protection program, but as the case has dragged on, the witnesses have chafed at their lack of freedom. “It’s been five years since the killing, and after a while the witnesses and their families couldn’t stand it, it was like being in prison. They’d had to abandon their homes and farms and we had to support their families,” Father Geremia told Catholic News Service. The priest, who met personally with the leader of one paramilitary group linked to the killing in an unsuccessful attempt to get him to confess, is hoping things will improve under Duterte, who took office June 30. As part of the president’s pursuit of a peace deal with the National Democratic Front, in September he ordered the Philippine army to dismantle the paramilitary groups blamed for widespread repression in indigenous communities. “These groups are instruments of politicians and the military and serve as security guards for the big plantations and mining operations. They are often composed of indigenous people who’ve been manipulated by the military and armed with high-powered weapons. They have steadily taken over land and driven people out of their homes, all in an effort to destroy the tribal communities. It’s genocide,” said Father Geremia.

Asked if he knows the identity of Father Tentorio’s killers, Geremia declined to answer specifically, but said the country’s army was clearly involved. “We cannot point fingers at individuals, because they have the right to due process,” he said. “But the investigators know very well. The initial information from the National Bureau of Investigation mentions names, but they always refuse to admit the military was in control of the area. Fausto could not have been killed without their permission. When he was killed there were soldiers just a few meters away. The killers felt safe to wait for Fausto in broad daylight with the military all around. And after the killing, they just got on a motorcycle and went away without anyone asking them any questions.”

Like many church workers who have sided with indigenous communities in Mindanao, Father Geremia has endured years of harassment and threats. According to Sister Maria Luz Mallo, the executive secretary of the Sisters Association in Mindanao, Father Geremia’s commitment during 44 years of pastoral work in the Philippines has brought him unique acceptance by native communities. “Father Peter may have been born in Italy, but the blood that flows through his veins is Filipino,” she said. Sister Mallo, a member of the Missionaries of the Assumption, has provided pastoral accompaniment to indigenous families — chased out of their rural villages by paramilitary violence — who have sought refuge in a Protestant church compound in Davao. She said church workers who side with the indigenous are going to suffer. “Sometimes we are followed, and people often accuse us of being part of the NPA (communist New People’s Army), of being reds. But we are not working against the government, we are just responding to the needs of the people. And we will continue to stand as prophets even though we are red-tagged and our security is threatened. That’s part of following Christ,” she said. The struggle of Mindanao’s indigenous people, commonly known as Lumads, took a bloody turn April 1 when police opened fire on several thousand demonstrators in Kidapawan, killing three and wounding dozens more.

The protesters were indigenous and nonindigenous farmers suffering from a prolonged drought. They came to Kidapawan to pressure the provincial government to release thousands of sacks of rice that the national government had sent for their relief. It wasn’t the first such incident. During a 1992 drought, Father Geremia and several indigenous leaders were jailed for 28 days following a similar protest. A drought struck again in 1998, but the provincial government released the rice in response to farmers’ demands. During this year’s protest, Father Geremia was trying to mediate between the protesters and the government when shots rang out. As many of the demonstrators took refuge in a nearby United Methodist Church compound, Father Geremia stood at the entrance and forbade the police from entering.

In the wake of the melee, charges were filed against almost 100 of the protesters and their supporters, who in turn filed countercharges against the police and the North Cotabato provincial governor, Emmylou Talino-Mendoza, who reportedly ordered the violence. Those cases are pending in court, though Duterte reportedly has pressured to have them dropped. Valentina Berdin of Arakan was one of those charged. The 78-year-old indigenous woman was held for 11 days before her release pending trial. “We planted rice, but because of El Nino, none came up. I went to Kidapawan because the alternative was starving to death,” said Berdin, who is charged with assaulting a police officer. “I didn’t assault him. I turned myself over to him so I wouldn’t get shot,” she said.

Father Geremia said those captured by the police were the ones who could not run fast. “How insulting it is to the police that the only ones they arrested were the old women and the wounded,” he said. Although the demonstrators were unable to obtain food with their protest, Berdin said she has been offered one sack of rice and 4,000 pesos (about $82) every month if she agrees to drop the charges against the governor. Berdin says she that she and other indigenous people in Mindanao appreciate the accompaniment of church leaders like Father Geremia. “Father Peter has continued the work of Father Fausto in supporting the Lumads against the mining companies and the plantations that are trying to take our land. With Father Peter on our side, we will continue to fight for our rights,” she said.

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With tribal Filipinos

Interview with Fr. Peter Robb, C.Ss.R.

Fr. Peter Robb C.Ss.R. served for many years in the Philippines. In an interview during October, 2007, he reflected on his time living with tribal Filipinos in the forests of the Sierra Madre mountain range. Fr. Peter describes this time as “the most enriching years” of his life.- How did it begin? – In 1973 I had a severe attack of typhoid fever and was hospitalised in San Juan de Dios Hospital, near Baclaran, Manila. Quarantine was rigid, however, a Philippine bishop and a good friend paid me a visit. During his visit he told me about 150 families who had resettled in the foothills of the Sierra Madre mountains. They had been squatters around the Manila Cathedral for many years. – After a couple of warnings to relocate, 15 6 x 6, ten-wheeler army trucks arrived to take the people away. There was great consternation! Within one hour the men-folk had arrived from their jobs or casual labour. Despite great anger, nothing could be done. Each truck had an army man with an American M15 attack rifle. The squatters were taken about 40 kilometres away to the town of Montalban, then across the upper reaches of the Marikina River and inland some 6 kilometres on roads accessible only by 4 four-wheel drive army trucks. – Tree hut The bishop asked me to visit the people when I was able. This I did after some months. a I spent three months living with them. While there I met a group of Dumagats, one of the major groups of indigenous people living in this area. They were a different physiognomy from the locals – a bit taller, quite dark, very kinky hair and dressed in G-strings. I chatted with them in broken Tagalog on their part and also on mine. “Where do you come from?” I asked. They gave a nod of the head with a movement of the eyebrows towards the mountains. Then one of them gave the Gospel invitation: “Come and see”. That’s how this apostolate began. – “Is it far to your place?” I asked? “For us, three hours; for you, maybe four hours,” they replied. “Two days from now, I will meet you here at this time,” I said. Sure enough, they turned up. I gave them a stick of pressed tobacco to chew with their betel nut and off we went. It did take me almost four hours, climbing steep tropical mountains and down to the rivers. They told me: “Halik tuhod ‘yong bundok”, which means: “You kiss your knee while you climb.” It was a good novitiate for the years to come. On arriving at a community of about 15 lean-tos for homes, the kids all fled to the surrounding bush. – They had never seen Kapre (a giant from popular fairy tales) before. “Kapre”, they shouted. The women-folk retired to their lean-tos and covered their breasts for the present. I spent two days with them, ate their diet of carbohydrate roots from the mountains and the tender tips of different plants (Mga talbos). It was a very nutritious diet! Each lean-to had three stones arranged as a stove for cooking. After the simple meal, we gathered around the fire. There was no light of any kind except for the fire. This became the pattern of my life for 12 years. The night was dark. The log caught fire. I could see it in the eyes of all intently looking at the fire. The fire of the Holy Spirit was in our midst. Conversation was very quiet and sporadic. – It was time for “bed”. We all slept on the ground around the fire. The log had been smouldering all day and the ground around it was warm. Next morning, before sunrise, we were awakened. The fire was rekindled and all of us sat with smoke curling from the morning fire. Few words were spoken. The tribals are very comfortable with silence. They can sit around in one another’s presence without words for long periods of time. This doesn’t mean that nothing is happening. They are highly sensitive to non-verbal communication. A part of the understanding of silence as a spiritual value has to do with waiting and not being impatient – Sleeping around the fire was something I experienced for a number of years. Sometimes the ground was damp after heavy rains but it was always warm. After a couple of years I developed kidney trouble. The solution: cut a few branches with my machete (itak) and sleep in them. We all bedded down together; men on one side, women on the other, and children all over the place. The dogs were also with us. If the ground was a bit dusty there was the possibility of a wee mite or insect called a niknik. When it nicked you it was very painful. In the early hours of one morning I was nicked in the groin area – once, then twice. It was painful so I headed to the mountain river about 100 metres away and sat in waste-deep water to cool off. A couple of men-folk had followed me. Next morning around the fire, my night predicament was the source of great merriment. The padre’s family jewels had been attacked by the niknik! – Who are these people – about 100 families – I worked with? – My information comes from the Ethical Studies and Development Centre (ESDEC), a department of the University of the Philippines (UP). We worked closely together. They came with me to the mountains. Most of my reflection comes from my living with these people.

Dumagats: Dagat means “sea”; people of the sea; people who came by the sea; Island hoppers from southern Philippines, possibly from the Celebes of Indonesia, even western Papua, New Guinea. So why did I find them in the deep forests of the Sierra Madres? When they arrived on the east coast of Luzon, they found their way up the rivers to the upland streams (UP). They are animistic in background, but most have arrived at monotheism (one spirit who is number one in every way). I didn’t find any who are henotheistic (each major tribal group with their god or gods). What follows are a few thoughts on animism from my exposure to it. – Animism gives primacy to the spirit. It is a sign and symbol of transcendence; a sense of God; a sense of mystery which is often lacking in our scientific, technological, secular society which has little appreciation of the sacredness of nature and men and women. In my time, there were many conflicts between transnational agro-industrial business corporations, government logging and mining concessionaires and tribal peoples about their forests and lands. – The Dumagats were still hunters or food-gatherers. In my time, there was little introduction to the ‘cash economy’.

Remontados: On two occasions I took members of the Ethical Studies Centre with me. In the late seventeenth century, numbers of the distant village (barrio) people refused to submit to Spanish rule. They returned to the mountains (Re Mons) where they inter-married with Dumagats or Agtas and assumed a tribal way of life. They have more ‘social mobility’, engage in upland rice cultivation (dalatan), build a better type of home, and encourage children to take some study in the village school (if any). – I brought out four or five members of the Ethical Studies Centre to a barrio, found a small dwelling and provided simple provisions. They came on Monday in the morning, about 12 kilometres and returned on Friday afternoon. They persevered for  four years. Remontado parents also seek baptisms for children. It’s a social ceremony with little religious significance.

Where are they? Remontados are located in small, enlarged family groupings in eastern Rizal, east of Manila, on the Lenatin River’s upper reaches, stretching towards Bulacan, and the Limutan River, part in Rizal, part in Quezon Province. They have long distances to walk; very steep tropical mountains; up to 35 kilometres walking. They are also present along the Umiray River in the heart of Quezon, which takes all day to walk with guides. The Sierra Madre Mountains run down the eastern Pacific coast like a spinal column. 1974-1978: First stage of my journey with the tribals – I call this the missionary stage in the former understanding of the word “missionary”. The tribals invited me to their many groupings. I joined them, and to a certain extent, immersed myself in their families. I didn’t really know the people, but their basic needs were obvious. Government and private agencies were contacted and teams were formed.

Some of the agencies who helped over the years included: ECTF Episcopal Commission for Tribal Filipinos – KAMP Alliance of Filipino Tribal Citizens ESDEC   Ethical Studies and Development Centre (UP) – LUSSA Luzon Secretariat for Social Action LEGAL ASSISTANCE CENTRE for Indigenous Filipinos

The help was rather sporadic but useful at times. This included social services, health and education, while I inserted instruction and elements of faith. Gradually, I realised the paternalism of this approach. It was condescending. I had everything to give and they had nothing. It was creating situations of dependence. No true personal relationships were established. I was a slow learner. 1979-1981: Stage of immersion, sharing and being ONE with them For 18 months I lived with the tribals, shared life and hardships, asked for no exceptions, worked with them, ate their simple diet of root-crops, slept together around the fire at night, made myself dependent on them, tried to show that we were equals, and to some extent captured their values, attitudes and rhythm of life. Any talk of ‘belief’ was useless. It didn’t register. But when any hint of “experience” of my ‘Makedypat’ (or God) came up, I could share with them my experience of my ‘Makedypat’. I suppose I was a sort of “commodity” to be shared. That was evangelisation. 1981-1989: Stage of service as equal partners Tribals became subjects not objects of evangelisation. I recognised some important features of the tribal outlook on life and their way of life, learnt from experience and reflection. I suspect that many of my reflections here would apply to Australian Aborigines within the framework of their “Dreaming”. I speak as one less wise!

Fully in touch with “being” – The tribal is not interested in becoming and achieving. Hence they are co-operative and not competitive with nature and with one another. They see themselves as a part of creation and nature. They experience the harmony and rhythm of nature, the land, the forests and the people as a part of each other. In an unspoken way, they show gratitude and thanks to their “Makedypat”. This attitude was of immense help to me to realise what I knew all the time. In my Eucharist, I not only give thanks for creation but with creation. The bread and wine are thanks offerings to God who gave them to us. I affirm the whole of creation which Christ affirmed in the incarnation.

Fully in touch with reality – They co-operate with nature and do not compete against it. The destruction of forests and environment by logging companies is inconceivable. Their swidden or slash-and-burn systems are environmentally astute. For centuries their system has thrived on the lush, forest slopes. Their technology in the shifting cultivation is economically non-destructive. They cultivate their one to two hectare upland plot for one season only and leave them for five to six years before returning. This gives ample time for the land to renew itself. But low-landers, who come and see the semi-cleared land, proceed to harvest year after year consecutively. This destroys the land and depletes the top soil.

Co-operation – Relationships within the tribal family. One does not compete with one’s neighbour (kabalat). Frequently, I heard them say: “We are all brothers”. If one has no sweet potatoes or mountain roots, he approaches his neighbour and they share what they have. There is no question of payment or barter. “Food is the gift of the Makedypat for us all.” Steeped as they are in non-material values, their lives are independent of riches and material well-being. Concepts of hoarding wealth, acquiring possessions and saving for bad times are foreign to them.

Concept of time – The tribal lives in close harmony, a partnership with the forest and rivers, the flora and fauna, the land and nature. From this is derived his concept of time. Time, as divided into small segments – weeks, days, minutes – has little significance. They are not people of the clock or watch. They don’t have any. Time is the rhythm of nature – the rising of the sun, midday, the setting of the sun, the succession of days and nights, light and darkness. Time is the rhythm of the two seasons – the dry season and the wet season. The tribal’s yearly cycle, which for many years I became part of, can be described roughly as follows. Life revolves around the annual cyclical phases of the upland rice season (for the Remontados). The kaingin are one or two hectares plots. Between January and February, the kaingin sites (environmentally non-destructive) are chosen. Between March and April, clearing the lots – burning and cutting vegetation – is done wisely. In late April, the corn crops are planted. At the end of May, with the onset of the monsoon wet season, sowing rice seed begins. In August, the crop is weeded and protected from birds, rats, monkeys and wild pigs. This is the job of the women and children. Corn and root crops are harvested after three or four months and upland rice after six months. At the end of October harvest rituals are held. – Rituals are associated with the selection of site, the first planting, and of course, the harvest. The only one I became acquainted with was the Harvest Ritual. Harvest season is the end of October. I went up three days beforehand, a very steep three hours to a rather extensive plateau. The Remontados told me: “halik tuhod po iyan”, which means very graphically and truly: “you kiss your knees as you climb.” How true! I joined them in their final preparations for this important yearly event. The day arrived and I had set up a rickety bamboo altar.  Fifteen or twenty men had dried half-coconut shells containing the new rice. A couple of women led the rhythmic dance to the altar. I joined them with my bread and wine and danced the ‘light fantastic’. All the gifts were placed on the altar. Then we squatted around and discussed the meaning of it. My approach was in no way peremptory. I was one less wise looking for help to understand. Why do we do this each year? Thanks to the Makedypat. But why do we say thank you? Because He gives us our daily food. And why is that important? It keeps us alive; LIFE! This was the springboard for discussing the Mass. We all stood around the altar holding high our gifts. In the meantime, the women-folk were cooking some of these first fruits. We sat around the altar, men and women, and shared our communion! For the Remontados, it is a must to plant a small section of glutinous rice called lagkitan. It is used to make sweet rice cakes, pinipig, sometimes ginamis. The making of pinipig is inevitable in the kaingin cycle. It calls for a celebration and one is expected to join. It seems to be some kind of ‘offering’ to the rice (palay), and if neglected, the rice harvest will not be good. They say, “nagtatampo and palay”. The rice is sulking or “in a huff”. I thought this experience worth sharing.

Time is the life cycle

Birth: Couples live together at an early age – early teens – but there is no marriage at this age. Tribal marriage occurs when the couple are 19 or 20 if there’s a child. If there is no child, there is no marriage. After the formal marriage, they are very faithful, more so than the Christian lowlanders, despite what the government maintains.

Dying: Death holds no fear for the tribals. It is a part of the holistic concept of life. Death is a returning to Mother Earth, the resting place of the mga ninuno, the ancestors. I recall a conversation around the fire (siga) at night. The soil beneath us is sacred. It is rich with the dust of our ancestors and our parents. We will go back to join them. Memories of those who have died are very much a part of daily life but not in an oppressive way. Time and space does not separate us.

A reflection: The tribal Filipino has not escaped from time and things. Rather, he lives with their essential rhythm. To some extent, he has assimilated the deepest core of life and things. Living with this interior harmony and rhythm of nature is a kind of secret prayer. Something I learned: Is not this interior harmony a secret prayer, a pre-fabricated liturgy hidden in the visible universe? Silently, it awaits the person of reflection and prayer to capture, disengage and make it known in all its splendours. In their own unsophisticated way, the tribals have done this. Twenty-five years ago, I spent an evening with a Dumagat in his lean-to with the evening mists coming in, an apology for a roof. He had stoked the fire (siga), throwing on it some special leaves to make it smoke vigorously and drive away the mosquitoes. Lying on the ground beside the fire, we talked about his roots, his people, his experience of the Makedypat, and way of life. It was an amazing acceptance of a Caucasian, a foreigner. I asked him if he ever talked to the Makedypat. Almost indignantly, he answered “No! I live with Him. Tomorrow we go up the mountain to check the bitag, the traps. Maybe… I have trapped a mountain cat or rat or a baboy damo, a wild pig. Our companion is the Makedypat. If we catch something we come down, two hours’ walk, and share it with the enlarged family. The Makedypat is happy because we are sharing His caring for us.” Here was a contemplative in a G-string, completely unschooled but experiencing the presence of God at the heart of his life. Apart from my lying on the ground, the thought of my own penury prevented sleep for a long time. One of many inspirations with these beautiful people, taught to me by Palasapis, the name of this old man, a contemplative in a G-string. He experienced the presence of his Makedypat at the heart of his life. Lying beside that fire I realised more profoundly that this is what my life is really all about – to live fully this presence to God, to ourselves and to our Filipinos.

Work:  For us, work is an activity occurring within a defined portion of the day. Not so for the tribals. Work is defined or determined by the needs of the day and the seasonal cycles. Work is a part of the ongoing and unified activity of being and living. It is an experience to live and join them in their completely unstructured attitude towards work. In recent years, as a result of more contact with logging and mining companies, and the army and lowland settlers stealing their land, they have inevitably been introduced to the cash economy.

Education:  For the Dumagats, there is one school on the upper Limutan River. It is the Province of Quezon and the teacher spends two days to get there from the town of General Nakar. The Dumagats attend off and on depending on the movements of the family. The Remontados generally attend if possible. Not always so! In general, tribal children are not encouraged to question, to explore ideas and seek understanding. The patterns have already been determined by ancestors and they are taught to accept these patterns. They learn by rote, observance and imitation, rather than inductive or deductive thinking.

Functional Literacy:  This programme was initiated by a Brazilian Educator, Paulo Freire (1921-1997). He had great success training community leaders and social activists. The key question: What is it that people really want to happen in their communities? How can we help them to achieve it? Two questions asked in the meeting: 1)    What issue or problem do the people feel strongly about? What fires them up? 2)    How to get large numbers involved? Leaders are not experts. All have important contributions. All are teachers; all are learners; channel strong feelings towards practical action. One can see the possibility of encouraging subversion here – action from the masses. The army under Martial Law was very suspicious and we had our moments. I became a sympathiser, possibly a collaborator of the NPA, the New People’s Army, the armed wing of the Communist Party. Two tribals who had been dragooned into the army to spy on their fellow tribals warned me: never bring my jeep, cream colour, into the mountains. It identifies you. And never go alone on those long treks, up to 30 kilometres. Contact the village first and ask the pangulo or leader to pick me up with five or six men. There is safety in numbers. For two years that situation prevailed. It was quite inconvenient, but necessary.

The Land: The land is a very pervading concept for the tribals. So often I heard them say: “The Land is our Mother”, our Ina. The land provides everything, nourishment for living, a welcome for the dead. It is a part of the life of each person. Our ancestors returned to this land we stand on, we came from it, and to it we will return. The land is not only the soil; it is the plants, trees, creatures of the forest. All are part of the land, the whole world. No one owns the land. It belongs to the Makedypat. We have the use of it, not individually, but a defined area for the tribal group. I recall that two or three well-to-do lowlanders came with three armed soldiers to claim the land. They waved Torrens Title Deeds. The leader of the Remontado group asked to see the papers. Publicly, he proceeded to tear them up. I jumped up and stood beside him for support. “What’s this he shouted? A piece of paper, just a piece of paper.” (He couldn’t read it). Then he tore it up and shouted: “Who named the mountains? Our ancestors! Who named the river beside us and all the streams? Our ancestors, hundreds of years’ ago. What is the use of a piece of paper?” I then took over: “Kapitan, thanks for reminding us all. It’s time to go home.” I then spoke to the soldiers: “My friends, we cannot solve this problem here in the mountains. A judicial solution is necessary.”

Martial Law experiences: President Marcos’ Martial Law meant that the Philippine Constitution was thrown out and the two houses of Parliament closed down. His men were appointed as judges in the law courts throughout the Philippines. He ruled by daily degree, implemented by the army. Naturally, abuses were rife – people disappearing (desaparecidos); (our confrere, my personal friend, Fr Rudy Romano), extra-judicial killings in the thousands.

A traumatic experience: I had a team with me from LUSSA, the Luzon Secretariat for Social Action. They all had Diplomas in Social Science, three young women and one young man. For almost three years we prayed recollection days together, planned and worked as a team, then made our assessments. The young bloke wasn’t too consistent, but he tagged along. I encouraged facilitators to go through my experience of just living with tribals and being accepted. Being Filipinos, they thought they understood them, but no. To be accepted to some degree is a rather long and painful personal conversion experience. The team of five had to walk carrying their personal belongings. I heaved along a small battery-powered speaker with a trumpet. We criss-crossed a mountain stream up to 100 yards wide, fast flowing and knee deep. Our brave male companion lost one of his rubber thongs in the currents, and for the next two kilometres he complained bitterly, changing the other thong from one foot to the other. The village (barrio) people were 80% Remontado and we were billeted in different homes. Our male component complained all the first day and then requested to return to base but I had to accompany him. A real wimp! It was Lent and the four of us had a wonderful two weeks with the people. Each one of us got four or five homes together at a time that suited the men-folk. We had modified sessions of “Functional Literacy”, a la Paulo Freire, Scripture readings with shared experiences of the Makedypat. Some parents wanted children baptised, so there was catechetics but only along the lines of sharing experiences. That’s the only way that tribals grasp anything of God. Teenagers were taught Mass hymns in Tagalog. Come Tuesday of Holy Week, two of my companions, Susana Pataksil and Rose Apid, asked could they visit  two male Social Workers with a group of Dumagats, a half day’s walk into the mountains. I was hesitant because there was a rumour that the army had a search and destroy operation out there somewhere – a ‘red alert’ area. They persisted and they knew the way. So, off they went, promising to return on Easter Sunday. They didn’t come, as was half expected on account of distances. Next day I left with the remaining young woman. Later on that Easter weekend, I heard that two Amazons had been killed by the army. Women who had joined the NPA in the hills were called Amazon. Quickly I went to their Manila base to have my fears confirmed. I volunteered to try and find the bodies with a half dozen male companions. I knew the way. On Saturday we left quite early in the jeep, as far as possible. Walking in, we made enquiries at each group of homes. We drew blanks until we came to a barrio at the foot of a steep, rugged area. The Pangulo, or one in charge, a Dumagat, told us that on the previous Sunday, four army men threw into their pakwanan, watermelon patch, the bodies of two young women, completely naked, no IDs of any kind. We exhumed the bodies from the shallow grave. It was shattering, absolutely shattering for me – my two beautiful leaders, mutilated by bullet wounds and badly decomposed. We scraped the remains into body bags and arrived in Manila just before midnight. Sunday night, the army announced on TV that two Amazons had been killed in the mountains, one had a hand grenade in her belt and the other was carrying a M15 attach rifle. Amen! They knew that we had been in and discovered the bodies. What actually happened? Early Easter morning my two friends and their male Social Workers were descending on a narrow mountain track. Susana was about 150 metres up front. The hills resounded with the “Pak” of a rifle and Susana fell on the footpath. Rose ran up to her, the two young men jumped into the forest and saw what happened. Rose held the head of Susana on her lap and screamed at the four soldiers: a translation: “We are not Amazon. We are not bad women. Have pity on us: two soldiers sprayed her with automatic fire. We counted 48 bullet wounds, and she was two months’ pregnant. There was a huge funeral in a Quezon City church. The eulogies were passionate, full of praise for Susana and Rose, but also loud denunciations of the government and army. I didn’t attend, but sent a page in Tagalog of my three years’ companionship, our praying, planning and working together for the tribals. They were two true martyrs who gave their lives for them. In my situation, I thought it would be unwise, possibly unhealthy, to be present. I was an angry man and it seemed to increase. I had become a victim of the atrocity. It would be foolish to return to the mountains. The problem was solved by joining the Trappists on the island of Guim-aras, near Iloilo, 500 kilometres south of Manila. For over three weeks, the monks took me into their community of prayer and work, rising at 2.15am each day. The hurt was healed, but you can’t obliterate such a memory.

Another traumatic experience of Martial Law brutality: This happened in a village (barrio) on the borders of Quezon Province. It was my jumping off base to Dumagat-Remontado groupings 15 or 20 or 25 kilometres in the mountains and inside Quezon Province. During the dry season, I could take the jeep to this barrio. On the outskirts there was a simple home, quite small, with a lovely family – father, mother, two small children – working about two hectares of wet rice cultivation. They were so generous. There were always sweet rice cakes and a glass of spring water. On this occasion, when I drove in there were 50 or 60 people looking over the fence towards the house, about 150 metres in the rice paddies. A gruesome sight froze me. I then ran in and sat in the rice stubble beside my friend. She was holding on her lap the horribly mutilated body of her partner. Deep, deep sobs were coming from the depths, after an hour of uncontrollable screaming. I placed my arm tightly around her shoulders with a hug. She sat, running her fingers through the hair. It was difficult to look at the body – one eye gouged out, one ear gone, also the nose, teeth knocked out, the whole body lacerated, genitals gone. There she sat in the stubble, a Pieta. After 20 minutes, I could literally feel the tensions relax. Her head nestled on my shoulder and I gave her a buss in the forehead. I suppose it would have been 40 minutes later that my friend raised her head and whispered: “maraming salamat po” (“Many, many thanks, Father”). It was time to go. Words are useless. Just silence, the silence of the presence of Christ. A peak moment of my life on reflection, surely! NPA members passed by that house, the same as I did. That made the man of the home a suspect NPA. At least he could name names. At 5.00am, he was picked up by three soldiers and thrown back at 11.00am. I passed by at 1.00pm.

Other memorable experiences: a Holy Week with the tribals: It was way out in the mountains at the confluence of the rivers Lenatin and Limutan – a beautiful ambience of towering mountains and gushing streams. The people were 100% Dumagat-Remontado. I was the first priest to visit the barrio and this was my third visit. Tuesday and Wednesday went off quietly with me explaining what Holy Week was all about. On Maundy Thursday I decided to have a washing of the feet, going to great pains to explain again and again the significance of the ceremony. Some kind of expectancy was aroused. Four men and four women were seated on a bench in our outdoor meeting place. An old tin basin of sorts was provided and I proceeded to wash and kiss each foot. It was hilarious. When I finished, the basin was half full of very muddy water. I might have known that the only time they washed their feet was when they waded through streams – a classic example of something completely anti-cultural. Good Friday had its moments also. I had the 14 Stations of the Cross, quite large and beautifully painted in Manila. These were placed around the barrio. The Kapitan, the one in charge, had to be the Christ. Mary, Veronica and the women, and the soldiers volunteered happily; this was drama which they love. The soldiers almost viciously beat the Kapitan. It turned out that they had grudges against him and it didn’t go unnoticed by the Kapitan tied to his cross. Next morning, I gathered my Stations. Number 12 was missing. Nobody knew anything about it. Ah well, let’s be positive. It will be a source of devotion in somebody’s home. On Holy Saturday evening, I asked my congregation to light a fire in front of our meeting place. No trouble! A huge bonfire blazoned the night as we gathered around the burning dry bamboo. I explained that the fire was a symbol of the Risen Jesus in all His glory. A large crowd surrounded the blaze. Suddenly, an old woman grabbed a faggot from the fire and began to dance around the fire crying out, “Buhay Pa Si Christo!” One by one, 15 or 20 joined her, myself among them, each brandishing a faggot. All were crying out “Buhay Pa Si Christo” – “Christ is still alive.” The high mountain peaks echoed and re-echoed “Christ is still alive”. It was just awesome, coming from all these non-baptised people with little or no knowledge of our understanding of faith. An accommodated Easter Mass followed. Towards the end of the Mass, the reality struck home.  The living Christ’s death and resurrection, that had just been proclaimed, was really present. No mere remembering, but actually effectually present. That moment, that majestic moment, Christ’s humanity became one with the Father. But also our humanity, all those non-Christians and the whole of creation were one with the Father. The mountain peaks had echoed with “Christ is still alive”. It was my enrichment, thanks to the tribals, and I might add enjoyed a sound sleep on the bamboo slats. Another example of how a non-Christian who didn’t recognise Christ, became the Sacrament of the Spirit and Presence of Christ. It took place at Paymuhuan, a Dumagat-Remontado barrio in the heart of the mountains on the river Limutan, Quezon Province. On a couple of visits, a young Dumagat, about 28, begged for baptism. He didn’t know anything about the faith. On this occasion, his young partner was giving birth to their first child and there were all kinds of problems. He invited me to their lean-to. I blessed the mother and child, who was trying to see the light of day. I helped the midwife, an old lady, and the tiny infant was born, and mother survived, but in a very weak condition. My friend was overjoyed and again begged and begged for baptism. I shared with him my and his experience of the Makedypat and in my next Bible service of sharing experiences, I baptised him. The joy was unbelievable and contagious. He seized from my hand the mike of my battery-powered speaker. What followed was an outpouring of the Spirit of the Risen Christ. Fr. Aussie Brennan in the mid forties talked about baptism of desire. Here was a graphic example. Crossing mountains and tropical streams was always hazardous in the wet season. Kilometres back, 300 to 400 millimetres of rain in 48 hours on mountains denuded by the loggers. The thin topsoil washed into the upland streams which became raging torrents, sometimes up to 200 metres wide. With the currents waist and chest deep they became impassable. It would be foolhardy to take the jeep in with quite large stones rolling down in the murky waters. I just had to wait a week or so.  On a couple of instances, the army 6 x 6, ten-wheeler helped me out. My few belongings, speaker, trumpet, Mass kit, etc. were placed in the army truck. The jeep was then filled with large stones, fan belt taken off, rice sack over the engine, exhaust plugged, blocks under the springs, and a two to three metre cable fastened the jeep firmly to the back of the truck, and off we went with water almost up to my knees. The jeep was washed to an angle of 45 degrees, but we made it. This was one occasion to thank the army. On several occasions, I had to leave the jeep and walk out, tracks impossible even with my four-wheel, low ratio gear and chains.

Some other experiences – Presence at a birth: Birthing is a women’s affair, but the father of the child could be present, but they never do. In this group, an elder could be invited. I was invited, an extraordinary acceptance for a Caucasian foreigner. I observed from a discreet and curious distance. The woman was lying on a mat with something under the lower back to raise the pelvis and legs. Some seven or eight women were there with two elderly midwives. Experience was their teacher. It was a familial scene. One woman wiped her brow with a dirty piece of cloth. Another held her hand with a reassuring word. Her breasts were fondled and caressed to relax her; a hand on the tummy. As the muscles contracted and dilated she breathed rather heavily and groaned a little. All present joined her in a rhythmic breathing and groaning. All were in unison with one of them whispering encouragement. Everybody was involved before the infant was delivered. A great shout of joy welcomed baby from the warmth and security of the womb, a welcome to this hard world of ours. One midwife looked after mother, the other the child, cutting the umbilical cord with a bamboo knife and quickly cleaning nostrils and throat and wiping the whole frame with some kind of herbal mixture. The baby boy was quickly passed around to all of us. I gave a quick blessing on the forehead, then onto mother’s breasts. The support and care for mother and child was extraordinary.  And people say that they are “primitive”.

Presence at a wake – This is men’s business, prerogative, whatever! Again, I had the accepting privilege of being invited. Fifteen or twenty men were there, squatting around the body of a woman, the wife of one of the leaders. We squatted lotus style in silence. I could do that 25 years ago, but no way now with my fossilised knee joints. We sat in complete silence chewing betel nut with a mixture of lime (apog), chewing tobacco (maskara), and a special leaf (ikmo). After about 20 minutes, the leader shared his betel nut with the man on his right; he in turn to the person on his right and so around the group, including myself. No sweat those days! Again silence. Another 20 minutes and the leader approached the body and literally anointed the forehead and upper breast with the betel nut from the mouth. We all followed. I said the prayer we use with the sacramental anointing. Silence again! After about 20 minutes I whispered very respectfully: “Beautiful, very beautiful. Thank you for the invitation to be here, to be one of you.” It was extremely important not to be intrusive in any way. “I wonder why you share the betel nut, and then you anoint the body (bangkay).” No response. “It must have a beautiful meaning.” No response. “Our ancestors taught us.” Silence! Then the leader said: “You are asking questions. Why do you think we do it?” After a long pause, I said very, very quietly, softly. “Sharing the betel nut chewing (nganga) showed me that you are all still one, united, even though our dear one has gone to the Makedypat. The anointing showed me we are still somehow one with our dear one.” Silence! “My parents have returned to the Makedypat. But somehow they are still with me because the Makedypat is with me. That was the golden opportunity for sharing, for evangelisation.

Invitation to a marriage – This was another unique experience, one that showed, to some degree, my acceptance by this Remontado group of 50 homes. I joined the groom’s family and relations. When ready, the groom emerged from his home. We were all waiting for him and together we walked, without any order, to the bride’s home. Her enlarged family had assembled there. There was no sign of the young lady and there wouldn’t be for about 20 minutes. Without fanfare, she appeared on her father’s arm. There was no finery about her dress, a faded Filipino cultural dress for women which had probably been used for a couple of generations. But for her, no doubt, she was arrayed like a queen. The groom wore an old but clean Barong Tagalog. An aside:  Back in the seventeenth century, the Spanish colonisers obliged Filipino men to wear their shirts outside their pants as a sign of inferiority. With attractive materials (pinya, pineapple thread) and needlework, the shirt evolved into the national formal dress). In a few days he would be back in the Kaingin upland rice plot in his G-string. Pants are most uncomfortable in the groin area. Back to our wedding. The two parties walked without intermingling while an older woman led them with a slow waltz and a lilting song; all the words were improvised, thoughts re the joy and happiness of a new union, their future children and the contribution they would make to the life of the barrio. Arriving at the compound in the centre of the village, the entrance was blocked by the father of the bride. No entrance! Our songster chanted about the joys, happiness and help the mga apo, the grand-children, would give him. Some tubang lalake was offered. That is fermented coconut juice. No response! Then some Ginebra San Miguel, gin made by the San Miguel brewery. No response! Finally, a full glass of Lambanog, distilled coconut juice, 94% alcohol. A hand was reached out eagerly and he moved away. The couple entered side by side, but no holding of hands. For six or seven metres, sleeping mats were on the ground with the teenage girls on either side. They proceeded to a platform with three steps. Lying on the bottom step was the mother of the bride. The songster continued singing about a beautiful daughter; she will give you mga apo to love you and help you as you grow older. A glass of Tubang babae (coconut juice recently harvested and quite sweet), and she readily accepted it and moved. The couple sat on the top step, covered by an arc decorated with all kinds of flowers. There was a tremendous shout of joy. That seemed to be the moment of marriage. An elder squatted lotus fashion in front of them and gave a most comprehensive instruction on marriage, every aspect, physical, emotional, handling problems. My regret was that I didn’t have a tape recorder. One couldn’t wish for a better instruction. I solemnly blessed them and the banqueting began. And what a feast of Filipino food and delicacies!

Health – Health was an important aspect of integral evangelisation, people able to live with some kind of dignity. Many were the lives saved during my 15 years in the mountains. Night protection from the Anopheles mosquito was important. In Remontado homes it was possible to use nets, but not with Dumagats sleeping around a fire on the ground. They throw lots of a certain leaf which smokes profusely and drives mozzies away for a while. Early on I took out a small microscope with glass slides. Nobody believed that it was a parasite in the blood causing the fevers. Clean blood was a deep rich colour. Tainted blood was teeming with parasites according to the degree of infestation. They couldn’t get over it! Different types of Quinine drugs were sometimes effective, but frequently the mosquito is immune to it. I was able to get a new drug from an Italian pharmaceutical company which was effective. I forget the brand name. The big problem was to find somebody who could distribute it as directed. There were 12 victims of Hansen’s disease whom I tried to help. Three of them were covered with suppurating wounds, very high on the nose; the others had fingers, toes, nose receding or disappeared. I always spent a day or two in their homes to help take away the stigma in the village. Hansen’s disease is dangerous only through long and intimate association. One of Mother Teresa’s sisters was a German doctor who had worked for years in leprosaria in India. She recommended the drugs, one to cure the wounds (six weeks), the other to stay the progress of the disease. She also told me where to find them – The “Peter Donders Centre” run by the Redemptorists in The Hague, Holland. The tribals have a wide knowledge of herbal medicines. Outback they never see a doctor or nurse and they have no access to western medicines. I approached the College of Generic Medicines at the University of the Philippines (UP). They were most enthusiastic about meeting them in the mountains. Their number had to be restricted to four people – three male and one female. The jeep was not very big. Firstly, I had to contact a mainly Remontado barrio. They had to provide some kind of place to stay and meet with a group. The locals were really happy to have these professionals. Six weeks’ later I would come, weather permitting. From the UP to the barrio was a two-day journey with some supplies, a Coleman-Petromax kerosene lamp, a short handled shovel and mattock for emergencies. The last hour was hazardous after the heavy downpours. The Doctora was terrified. She had never been out of Manila and environs. The nights were so quiet and peaceful with only the cries of night birds breaking the almost deadly silence. The men-folk’s fear was different, but real. Would the Communist NPA kidnap them and demand a ransom? This was not uncommon. I could only reassure them that I could handle such an eventuality. The get-together aroused tremendous enthusiasm. During the five days, tribals came from all over, men and women. The doctors opined that they learnt more than they were able to give. They did identify more herbs, show them how to preserve them and how to concoct these remedies. A local young woman who had studied for  two years in an Agricultural High School was put in charge and I, in due time, provided the large open-mouthed bottles with screw and clamp tops. We had a Botica sa Barrio, a pharmacy in the mountains. Another enterprise was to take out a professional dietician. She had no qualms about isolation, etc. For nine days she lived with the women-folk. From the foodstuffs available she produced two nutritious meals per day. Everybody tried to help in any possible way. It was a great success! But, a couple of weeks later they reverted to their former ways. One cannot change generations of procedures in nine days. I could just hope and pray something brushed off.

Conclusion

A final thought, thanks to my beloved tribals. How to face life, poverty, oppression without bitterness, but with hope? There’s no quenching of the flickering light in their lives. They celebrate their God, Makedypat, in their life experience, His experience of His Presence in themselves, their family gatherings, in the whole of life. Thanks to my superiors for the opportunity and privilege to live with them.

Lumad killings in Mindanao

UCANEWS

International activist groups and religious missionaries in the Philippines have launched an investigation into the recent killings of tribal people in the southern region of Mindanao. “The continuing killings of tribal people is an urgent matter that the government must address,” said Ailene Villarosa, advocacy program officer of the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines. Villarosa told ucanews.com that 24 foreign delegates are joining the “international solidarity mission” that will visit tribal farming communities in the province of Bukidnon. Gunmen shot Danny Diarog and Hermie Alegre, while they were returning home from a meeting with the government’s National Commission on Indigenous People, on July 15. Diarog, head of the Bagobo K’lata tribe and member of a tribal organization, remained in critical condition in hospital on July 18. Alegre a tribal school parent-teacher association president died in hospital. Pasaka, an alliance of tribal groups in Mindanao, accused soldiers and a local paramilitary group of having a hand in the shootings. Tribal rights group Katribu condemned the attack and called on President Rodrigo Duterte to end what it called a government counterinsurgency program claiming the lives of people in hinterland communities. On July 12, private security officers in Sumilao, in Bukidnon province, allegedly gunned down three Higaonon tribesmen. A 15-year-old tribal girl was also wounded in the attack. In the town of Caraga in Davao Oriental province, some 400 tribal people have fled their homes due to ongoing military operations against communist rebels.

Cultural integration

Sister Maria Fatima Somogod, coordinator of the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines, said the international mission has been launched so that will people will understand the situation of tribal communities in Mindanao. “We might see them on the news, but do we really know the story behind these killings,” said Sister Somogod, adding that people should see the situation with their own eyes. “People are quick to judge [tribal people] as against development … but people do not ask why tribal communities opposed the kind of development that the government offers,” the Catholic nun said. She said the investigation and an immersion program, an interfaith activity led by the missionaries, aims to “change biases” against the idea that tribesmen are barbaric. The nun also appealed to the government “to try to understand the context of our indigenous brothers and sisters.” The Rev. John Oda from the United Methodist Church in California said he wants to hear about the struggles and the people and “learn more about what is happening in the region and how we can be in solidarity with them.” The international mission will visit communities in Maramag town in Bukidnon where about 800 tribal families have been asserting their right to land that has been in the control of a state university. The university has since deployed armed guards in the area to stop residents from farming. Members of the mission will release the result of their investigation in an International Conference for People’s Rights later this week. The Rev. Rex Reyes Jr., a member of the board of the World Council of Churches, said the conference will “hear the people’s complaints about continuing rights violations” in the Philippines.

Tropical forests in Arakan

The winner of the $500 Prize is:
Philippine Eagle Foundation – Holistic forest biodiversity conservation in the Arakan Valley through ‘corridors’ and ‘stepping stones’

Originally a lowland tropical forest, the Arakan Valley in North Cotabato, Philippines has lost 94% of its forests. What remains are confined in three forest islands, two of which are global KBAs.
Using a landscape restoration framework crafted by various stakeholders, a revitalized Arakan Forest Corridor Development Program (AFCDP) began in 2010. The AFCDP is a multi-year initiative that combines forest management, poverty alleviation, resource mobilization, local capacity building, advocacy and education to restore the social-ecological resiliency of the Arakan landscape and its predominantly poor, rural inhabitants. To date, 6,000 ha of the KBAs are legally protected with clear management regimes that also conserve IUCN ‘threatened’ species like the Philippine Eagle. Native trees were also re-planted in 370 ha of non-forest areas around ‘core zones’ through small-holder ‘rainforestation’ approaches, with census showing a 60 % average survival rate in successful reforestation plots.

Using a ‘sustainable livelihoods framework’ approach, the well-being of 200Indigenous households performing clear environmental services is also being secured. During the previous year, household annual income has tripled from rainforestation fees. Basic education, health and livelihood support were also facilitated as ‘conservation incentives’. Sustainable conservation financing and ‘in-kind’ incentives are brokered through ‘conservation agreements’ between communities and their government, private and corporate benefactors. We mobilized US $ 316,000.00 of funding so far through these innovative ‘private-public-community’ partnerships. Recently, a total of 36 ha of small, natural forests patches within production landscapes that are wildlife ‘stepping stones’ in between core zones will be rehabilitated and expanded through a private-landholder restoration initiative.

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/phileaglefdn

Mt Mahuson ICCA page: http://www.iccaregistry.org/en/sites/29

Willem Geertman killed

Willem Geertman, 67, executive director of the Alay Bayan Inc. (ABI), was shot in the back by two unidentified men as he knelt just a few feet from his office inside L&S subdivision at around 12:45 p.m., July 3.

ABI is an affiliate of the Alyansang Magbubukid ng Gitnang Luzon (AMGL), the mother unit of the Alyansa ng Manggagawang Bukid ng Asyenda Luisita (Ambala).

Fred Villareal, vice-chairman of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines in Pampanga, said the gunmen also pointed their pistol at him when he tried to run after them to get the plate number of their getaway motorcycle.

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Wilhelmus JJ Lutz Geertman belonged to a religious missionary group Calama in the Netherlands. A religious group who dedicate their work to serving oppressed people in the Third World such as the Philippines. He arrived in the Philippines in early 1970s where he enrolled at the Ateneo De Manila University and University of the Philippines to deepen his understanding of the Filipino people. While in UP, he observed that many youth-students were protesting against the policies and program of then dictator Ferdinand Marcos. He was in UP when martial law was declared. Naturally born sensitive and considerate to the plight of oppressed and poor sectors, he then discussed with youth activists and learned further of the social cancer perpetrated by the Marcos dictatorship.

After studying at the university, he then immersed with the Filipino workers, particularly, construction workers. He actually worked for a low wage, as low as other Filipino workers earned. His employer offered a higher wage but he refused as his work is no different from others. His integration with the Filipino working class educated him and strengthened his commitment to serve the poor.

In 1979, he and his religious group were invited by Bishop Julio X. Labayen, OCD for a mission in the Prelate of Infanta in Quezon province for a program of establishing a “Church of the Poor.” They were known as Missionary Volunteers or MIVO. As they were different from other religious group who embraces simple living, they integrated with the poor farmers and even constructed their own hut at Brgy. Reserva, Baler, Aurora (Aurora was previously part of Quezon but under the prelate). Geertman actually tilled, took care and harvested crops with the farmers.

Geertman and his MIVO colleagues worked under Bishop Labayen’s mandate, primarily of knowing “Who is the poor?” Their two-year work in Baler, Aurora resulted that 89% of the population of Baler valley, the towns of Baler, Maria Aurora, San Luis, Dipaculao and Infanta were poor. The majority being farmers, indigenous people, fisher folk and informal settlers. Geertman’s group learned of the rural poor of Baler valley, who the church could not reach, no social services, landless, no properties, vulnerable to exploitation and oppression. Their mission report was the basis of establishing the Church of the Poor under the Prelate of Infanta.

As their mission in Aurora developed, Geertman and MIVO implemented health and education programs. As rural poor of Aurora were educated, amongst them rose as leaders, thus, organizing them as people’s organization became a necessity to continue the protection and promotion of their basic rights. Geertman was instrumental in the formation of sectoral organizations such as the Aniban ng Kilusang Magsasaka ng Aurora (AKMA, Association of Farmers’ Movement of Aurora) ; Samahan ng mga Kababaihan ng Aurora (SAMAKA, Women’s Association of Aurora); Samahan ng mga Kabataan ng Aurora (SAKA, Youth Association of Aurora) ; and Samahan ng mga Katutubo ng Sierra Madre (SKSM, Indigenous People’s Association of Aurora). These sectoral groups would be the core groups of the provincial farmers’ alliance Panlalawigang Alyansa ng Magbubukid ng Aurora (PAMANA, Aurora Provincial Farmers’ Alliance) that was established in 1996.

Geertman also contributed to the formation of Justice and Peace Action Group (JPAG), a group protecting the basic rights of the rural poor. With the MIVO’s achievements, it got the ire from the Philippine military who harassed and threatened them with black propaganda. But Bishop Labayen believed that Geertman and MIVO were doing what was right, thus, he became the Bishop-Founder of MIVO, in the process becoming a secular institute.

As the program of the prelate further progressed, MIVO became the resource group of educating more rural poor and layworkers, primarily on issues affecting the people, inputs on encyclicals, church’s social doctrine, vocation and mission of layworkers. Geertman became a convenor of the established Lay Forum – Luzon.

In 1986, the MIVO established the Bahay-Talakayan para sa Rekonstruksyon at Ikauunlad ng Sambayanan or the Bataris Formation Center, with the objective of sustaining development programs for the benefit of the rural poor and educating layworkers. The Bataris and JPAG primarily became the groups that protect and promote the rights of the rural poor in Aurora. These groups became a constant victim of harassment and threat of the Philippine military, tagging them as “communist fronts.” But Geertman and the leaders and members of Bataris, JPAG and farmers’ groups, stood their ground and upheld their basic rights to organize and promote their welfare.

In 1991, Geertman went back to the Netherlands, where he joined the workers’ movement. He lived as a Dutch worker and he donated part of his income to the struggle of the rural poor of Aurora. He coordinated with Filipino migrants group in the Netherlands and continued to support the campaign of poor farmers in the Philippines. He returned to the Philippines in 2001, he told to his Dutch and Filipino colleagues that he was “returning home.”

In 2002, Willem Geertman returned to Aurora to continue serving the rural poor. He educated more farmers, indigenous people and fisherfolk to learn of their basic rights. He facilitated many development programs to benefit the rural poor. He was also active in promoting farmers’ rights against land grabbing and displacement, opposing logging and land use conversion operations in the province.

In 2006 and 2007, during the height of the implementation of the Operational Plan Bantay Laya, the counter-insurgency program of the Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo regime, Geertman was villified by the 48th Infantry Battalion of the Philippine Army as a leader of CPP-NPA, on a letter it circulated in Aurora. The Philippine military accused him of soliciting support to stockpile explosives in San Luis town. He supported PAMANA’s campaign against the Aurora Special Economic Zone Act of 2007 (ASEZA) promoted by the landlord Angaras.

On January 27, 2009, Willem Geertman became the executive director of Alay Bayan Luson, Inc. (ABI), a disaster preparedness non-government organization serving farmers in central and northern Luzon. As many typhoons affected the farmers such as Ondoy-Pepeng in 2009, Juan in 2010, Pedring in 2011, Geertman was busy facilitating relief and rehabilitation projects to farmer areas affected.

Geertman also supported the struggle of Hacienda Luisita farmworkers. He was instrumental in aiding the farmworkers, facilitated livelihood programs for the farmworkers and referred them to other development institutions. He continued his support to Aurora farmers led by PAMANA on their campaign against Aurora Pacific Economic Zone and Freeport Act of 2010 (APECO), a revision of ASEZA promoted by the landlord Angaras. Geertman was also supporting the farmers’ campaign against mining operations in Zambales. Geertman and Alay Bayan Luson facilitated the formation of AGAP Zambales and SAGIP Zambales, farmers and multi-sectoral disaster preparedness groups that are calling a stop to mining operations in Zambales.

Days before Geertman’s killing, ABI staff observed that unidentified men were loitering in front of their compound, with neighbors witnessing them surveying the inside of the ABI compound.

On July 3, 2012, between 12:34 and 12:37pm, he was killed by agents of the military. His co-workers believed that he was a victim of extra-judicial killing as the pattern of his murder is similar to how Oplan Bantay Laya was implemented in the region. They do not believe that it was robbery with homicide, but a well-coordinated and planned attack not just on Geertman but on the people’s democratic movement. Farmer’s groups affirm that he was targeted as part of the counter-insurgency program Operational Plan Bayanihan, which its objective is to cut-off the support to basic sectors, such as the farmers from the middle sectors, where Geertman belonged. His killing was to convey the message that everyone is an easy target of the fascist attacks of the Philippine government.

While the local police declare it was robbery with homicide, it does not coincide with the circumstances, as Geertman could easily be robbed anywhere, nor the suspects could definitely take away anything without killing him. But what occurred is worse, he was killed right inside the compound of his office, and his co-workers threatened.

The CCTV video would also support the farmers’ claim as the guard testified that onboard the red car were elements of the police. As the local police assert it was robbery based on their findings on the evidence, they should also take it as verbatim that they were indeed elements of the police, as the guard witnessed.

Geertman’s history is a story of farmers’ struggle for their rights, thus, he was a strategic target for those who oppress and exploit farmers, and those who are pushing for the plunder of our country’s natural resources. Farmers, indigenous people, fisherfolk, the rural poor, different sectors, even from abroad, Geertman’s family and friends, supporters believe that he is a victim of extra-judicial killing. He is a victim of the Aquino government’s counter-insurgency Operational Plan Bayanihan. He is a victim of Aquino regime’s fascist attack on the people’s democratic movement. For siding with the rural poor, the exploited and oppressed, Geertman in a way is “more a Filipino” than those who cause their poverty and misery.

Join and support us in our call for Justice for Willem Geertman.    NORDIS

Fumo di pace

Siamo a Nord di Luzon. Foto di Fides del 1937. Un vecchio missionario belga di Scheut (CICM) si accende la pipa ‘indigena’ da un negritos ‘aetas’ che invece fuma una sigaretta ‘occidentale’. Simbolico, sobrio ed essenziale linguaggio. Probabilmente, in altre occasioni, l’incontro si è ripetuto invertendo le parti, ma in questa foto rimane originale e piacevole. L’incontro tra culture è anche un tacito accordo, un calumet della pace, che fa dimenticare le diversità in favore di una, possibile e duratura, amicizia.

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Somewhere  north of Luzon Island.  Photo by Fides, 1937. An old Belgian missioner of Scheut (CICM) lights his ‘indigenous’ pipe with a Negrito ‘aeta’ who instead is smoking a ‘western’ cigarette. Symbolic, sober and simple language. Probably this encounter happened again, sides changed, but in this photo it remains very original and enjoyable. We can say that the real encounter between different cultures should be like this; a tacit agreement, a smoking peace pipe, that can help the parties to forget the differences in favor of a possible and lasting friendship.

Working with Indigenous People by Ricky Lusuegro

Recommendations in working with the Indigenous People

There are already many recommendations given by many different officesand groups working with and for the indigenous peoples not just in thePhilippines and Asia but also around the globe. What we really need now is to put them in action so that the beauty would be real. I belive that both the Church and the government should reflect again the recommandations of the Stavenhagen report and the Statement of the 22nd ECIP-IPA Filipino National Convention.

Let me reiterate and add some points:

There is still so much to do to promote dialogue with their culture. The proclamation of the Gospel must not be compromised. We should always be reminded that it is the gratest contribution from part of the Church in creating a culture of solidarity with the indigenous people (IPs). Jesus Christ is not just the model in creating a culture of solidarity with the IPs but the emboidment of God’s message of solidarity with the whole creation.

Proper training ad orientation must be given to all those involved in the programs of the Diocese for IPs, so not to create more divisions and misunderstanding rather cooperation, mutual sharing, respect and cultural sensibility. They must also acquire a missionary spirituality because what they are doing is not just a work but also a mission. Is is good to know that the Tribal Filipino Desk of the Diocese aims to having more indigenous peoples involved in the implementation of their programs, like teachers and facilitators.

Continue to strengthen the Basic Christian Communities so that they may always be witnesses of the Good News to the indigenous peoples around them. Support the iniziatives of the Basic Indigenous Communities and other Tribal Filipino Organization of the Diocese.

Paternalistic attitude must be set aside. Minimize dole-outs. Benjamin Abadiano, the Philippines’ first Magsaysay (2004) laureate for emergent leadership said that ‘some Church workers need to improve their outlook and attitude, because they are still to paternalistic.

Local clergy and the religious should be the first one to show passion in working with the indigenous peoples within their territories. To work with passion with the IPs is ‘a vocation within a vocation’ that needs to be dicerned and discovered.

It is everyone’s mission to create a culture of solidarity not just of the few. Program for integral develpment of the young indigenous peoples must be strengthened and promoted. They are the future bearers of the indigenous peoples’culture and traditions. Their development is a development for all us. They play important role in creating a culture of solidarity. Failure to do so means lesser hope of bringing forward to the next generation their culture and traditions.

Keep the missionary attitude that conversion must not be imposed. They must freely embrace and respond to faith in Christ.

I Manobo in Mindanao

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Il popolo dei Manobo appartiene al ceppo originale proto-filipino dell’isola di Mindanao nel sud dell’arcipelago delle Filippine. Una volta i suoi membri erano un gruppo omogeneo ora invece sono dispersi in diverse comunità tribali localizzate nel centro e a est di Mindanao come gli: Arumanen, Binukid, Higaonon, Matigsalug, Bagobo, Talaandilig, Tigwahanon, Umayamnon …e altri ancora. Si stima che oggi in totale (ma come meticciato per mezzo di relazioni inter-maritali con altre etnie) possano essersi ramificati in una popolazione di 650.000 persone (749.042 nel 1994). 13 milioni la popolazione attuale di tutta l’isola di Mindanao.

In North Cotabato e in Arakan Valley ci sono due gruppi distinti chiamati Manobo-Matigsalug e Manobo-Obo. 20.000 circa. I principali mezzi di sussistenza dei Manobo sono la raccolta di radici edibili e le piantagioni di riso ‘dinurado’. Sia gli uomini che le donne, collettivamente, prendono parte al carico di lavoro. Il capo di un gruppo manobo è il Timuay o Datu che chiama e istruisce la gente nelle riunioni poi c’e’ il baylan o “sciamano” (leader spirituale). Attualmente, i Manobo rimangono aderenti a rituali animisti dove il sangue animale e’ usato in molte benedizioni. In segno di rispetto il nome di un morto non e’ piu’ menzionato dai viventi nemmeno quello dei parenti defunti. L’Essere Supremo e’ chiamato il MANAMA, le varie divinita’ DIWATA e gli spiriti della foresta ANITO. INANIT e’ il dio del male. Esiste un Samaya-un Festival che si celebra ogni anno nell’ultima fase lunare in dicembre, in ringraziamento agli dei offrendo riso cotto e aspettando, dopo l’offerta, un segno positivo o negativo per il prossimo ciclo temporale. L’arte e’ espressa prevalentemente attraverso le danze e nelle decorazioni tessili, ma anche nella poesia e musica strumentale. Lo strumento musicale tradizionale e’ il Kutiyapi o Kudlung una chitarra a forma di canoa, retaggio antico quando i Manobo vivevano sulle rive del mare prima dell’arrivo di musulmani e cristiani. I racconti epici e avventurosi degli antenati sono raggruppati in migliaia di versi in una storia epica chiamati i Canti dell’ Olaging.

Attualmente uno dei problemi maggiori per i Manobo e’ lo sfruttamento delle terre, cosidette, ancestrali. La Legge Governativa chiamata IPRA (Indigenous people Right Act) dà il potere alla etnia locale di decidere sullo sfruttamento del suolo. Tuttavia la pressione di diverse compagnie minerarie e di legname per ottenere il benestare per operare nella zona sta dividendo gli indios, infatti le compagnie promettono di migliorare la condizione dei tribali, ma molte vole sono solo promesse non mantenute. La Legge inoltre del MA (Mining Act) permette alle compagnie minerarie, o di produzione di energia elettrica, di iniziare le ricerche previo permesso governativo in ogni terreno e ovunque nelle Filippine. In particolare poi il Governo cerca di aggirare il problema di eventuali conflitti circa le terra ancestrali cercando di convincere le popolazioni tribali a convertirle in Parchi Naturali (es. Mount Apo, Mount Sinaka, eccc.), (Republic Act 7586 del 1992) in questo modo può avere maggior potere decisionale sulle stesse ed eventualmente darle parzialmente in concessione ad altri.

Homely at the funeral of father Nery Lito Satur

 By Bishop Gaudencio  Rosales of Malaybalay  (misyononline)

Father Nery Lito  Satur, the young parish priest of Guinayoran, Valencia, Bukidnon, in the Diocese  of Malaybalay, was murdered on 14 October 1991 in an ambush. It is believed that  illegal loggers were behind this. He was one of 45 priests, deacons and local  citizens deputized as forest officers by the Department of Environment and  Resources to arrest illegal loggers. The then Bishop of Malaybalay, Gaudencio  Rosales gave this homily at the funeral of Father Nery.

I feel bad, not because Fr Nerly Lito Satur gave up his  life for the cause of the Gospel; this is God’s will. But I am very angry  because the devil is still so active in our local church. The worst part is that  the devil has friends and accomplices here! Evil struck again! This time to  pluck the life of a very young priest given to the crusade of keeping integrity  of nature to make farm livelihood more productive for the poor . . .

There was a time when men in uniform would strongly accuse  priests as radicals, fomenting violence and rebellion.

I say this loud and clear that not one of our priests, not  one of our religious, not one of our church workers in this Local Church  following the paths that our Apostolic Vision draws us to, subscribes to  violence, encourages it, motivates it or even befriends it as a means to  integral salvation in and through Jesus. Anyone who voices the contrary is not  speaking for the Church! Above all he is not speaking for Christ.

Father Nery defended the ecological balance, he actually  upheld the Government’s Total Logging Ban in the province. And he did this not  for any political reason, but in an honest belief that the forests are for the  future life of the poor in the country.

Now that Father Nery is dead we demand justice for him and  the Church that he served so well. And the government authorities whose  obligation it is to secure what is just, should better work this out soon for  Father Nery . . .

Thank you brother priests, for showing your love and  brotherhood with Nery; thank you for the time, trust and love you shared with  him. Thank you for accepting the price of the love we know in Jesus. We can  never inflict harm, but we are always ready to be harmed while we are giving  Christ to the people. Victimhood is at the core of poverty which brings us to  the very heart of His Kingdom – Love.

In 1997, under the  name ‘Dency B. Rosales’ the Cardinal wrote Fr Nery Satur and the Church He Died For (Claretian Publications).

Two Books this months: Manobo Dreams in Arakan by Karl Gaspar

Books @ Mindanews

DAVAO CITY (MindaNews/15 May) — Two books by Mindanawons will be launched this week: Ronnie Amorado’s “Kakistocracy: The Rule of the Unprincipled, Unethical and Unqualified” and  Redemptorist Brother Karl Gaspar’s “Manobo Dreams in Arakan: A People’s Struggle to Keep Their Homeland.”

Amorado’s book will be launched Tuesday morning at room J-301, Jubilee Hall of the Ateneo de Davao University’s Jacinto Campus.

“Kakistocracy” is defined by the American Heritage Dictionary as “government by the least qualified or most unprincipled citizens.”

Gaspar’s”Manobo Dreams” will be launched Wednesday afternoon at 4:30, at the Ateneo Press Bookshop, Bellarmine Hall, Ateneo de Manila University. It will have its Davao City launch on June 1 at the Museo Dabawenyo, after the opening of Gaspar’s art exhibit and at the Pamulaan, University of Southeastern Philppines in Mintal on June 8.

“Kakistocracy” digs deeper into the untold corruption stories “from a lens of a betrayal theory for theoretical abstraction, as well as generate meaningful insights for anticorruption initiatives through a citizenship-based country strategy for the Philippines.”

“For emancipation, a concept of citizenship as a countervailing power is juxtaposed to challenge corruption and betrayal,” the book’s abstract states.

Amorado, a  Hubert Humphrey Fellow (2009-10), is also the author of the book, Fixing Society: The Inside World of Fixers in the Philippines.

The book won the 2008 Outstanding Book Award in the National Academy of Science and Technology.

“Manobo Dreams in Arakan” is the popular version of Bro. Gaspar’s dissertation  (PhD Philippine Studies at the University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City) entitled: Contestations, Negotiations and Common Action: A Study of the Arakan Manobos’ Struggle for Self-Determination.

The book provides a case study of how the Manobos in the Arakan Valley in North Cotabato struggled through the centuries to keep their ancestral homeland from the time they waged pangayaws (tribal wars) against those who encroached into their territories including loggers, ranchers and politicians who used their power and influence to grab their ancestral territories up to the contemporary period when they shifted their struggles to engaging the State with the assistance of civil society agencies.

In turn, the Manobos’ struggles are juxtaposed with the history of how the Indigenous Peoples (IPs) of Mindanao (now popularly known as Lumad) have sustained their struggles through the last century to defend their ancestral territories. Integrated into this history is the Lumad Social Movement that arose in Mindanao since the late 1960s when both Catholic and Protestant missionaries began to provide solidarity support to Lumad communities in the fields of literacy, adult education, income-generating projects, basic agricultural assistance and, ultimately, the conscientization and organization of the communities to protect their ancestral domain.

“Manobo Dreams” is Gaspar’s second book in five months.  “The Masses are Messiah: Contemplating the Filipino Soul,” was launched on December 12 at the Titus Brandsma Media Center in Quezon City.

Both authors are graduates of the Ateneo de Davao University. Gaspar obtained his PhD in Philippine Studies at the University of the Philippines in Diliman (MindaNews)

Called to restore the dignity of the Little Ones by fr. Ricardo “Ricky”J. Lusuegro (1967-2010)

(from “Creating culture of solidarity”  pp.124-127,  August 2005).

We could boldly say that the indigenous people belong to the little ones of Jesus. We, as followers of Him, are impelled to be with them in their struggle. It is not because they are the minority. It is because they have suffered much and have pushed even to dehumanizing situations. Paulo Freire describes it as a distortion of the vocation of becoming more fully human. Dehumanization is not a given destiny. So mission here is to restore that dignity of a human being robbed by the self-centered, profit-centered powerful and oppressive people, and even by the system or socio-political or economic structures. It is restoring their self-worth ‘depreciated’ by the imposed standards of the modern day society. We defend and promote human dignity not because this is fashionable, but because it is part of our vocation as Christians. Restoring, therefore, their dignity is also restoring our own dignity as Christians stained by many forms of discrimination towards them. Working for the restoration of their dignity is mission to rediscover their own culture and traditions. It is also restoration of the pride and identity of the Filipino race, which they have preserved for centuries, to avoid becoming more and more ‘second-rate copycats’ of Westerners.

Prophets come in time of crisis. I remember the dialogue of a peasant in the film “Romero” telling the archbishop Oscar Romero “You are our voice. You speak for us!”. Silence followed, a silence that made him recognize God in the midst of the oppressed, that made him utter once again “The Lord be with you”. The Church (in Kidapawan) speaks for the indigenous peoples. She seemed to be silent for a while and silenced for some reasons, but later on she realized that she has to answer the question: “What have you done to the indigenous people around you?”. It sounds like God asking to Cain of the whereabouts of Abel.

Jack Nelson (Hunger for Justice, 1980) shares, “In walking the streets of Calcutta, the poverty so enraged me that I wanted to scream at God, then I came up to a painful realization: in the suffering of the poor, God was screaming at me”. There could be a bit of an exaggeration if I will say that we could also describe the situation of our indigenous people as above. Father Peter Geremia noticed: once (they were) a robust tree but was uprooted and scattered by many storms that passed by. Caring for the poor needs us to understand too what it means to be poor or indigenous. This call also implies for the church to be consistent with the Gospel value of poverty.

There were pains and agonies of the indigenous peoples that were not given much attention for a long time. Christians celebrate new life in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Sometimes we celebrate this feast unmindful of the pains and wounds that we also have created and contributed. We call ourselves Easter peoples but tend to forget that the new life that Jesus Christ gave us is for all.

Who is veiled and not ?  We like to celebrate the “salubong” (encounter of Jesus and Mary at the dawn of Easter Sunday) where we join Mary in her joy in seeing her Son raised from dead. (In Bicol we call it “saklot”, which means “the unveiling”). We unveil Mary, the symbol of saying no more tears, no more agonies, no more reason to be sad, no more darkness in our face. I believe this is also the church’s mission to unveil the scandalous situations around her and let the light of truth enlighten it.

The church unveils also the realities of indigenous people, biases and prejudices of Christians toward them. In the encounter, like in any “salubong”, two sides come together for a celebration of thanksgiving and commitment that darkness would soon vanish for they embrace each other ready to expose things in the light of the Gospel. Ready for solidarity.                                                          ——————————————————–

Fr. Ricardo was born in Sorsogon City, Philippines. After earning a B.A. in Social Communications, in 1997 he entered the PIME Seminary. He was ordained a priest on May 1, 2004, in the Parish of Mary Queen of Apostles in Parañaque City in the Philippines. Then he was assigned in Brazil. He worked there in the parishes of St. Vincent de Paul in Assis and St. Anthony in Jardim, Mato Grosso. He died on December 3, 2010