Manobo Hunting Weapons

From left to right: segpo (spear), busog (bow), and seleb (arrow). I believe

I don’t have to tell you what they are for. 

The plegkasin is made of wood and worn on the wrist. The hunter rests

his arrow on the plegkasin for him to have a more accurate aim.

My Problems with DILG Memo 2010-119

I hate writing opinion pieces. I often wonder why in my teens and early twenties, I was fond of writing personal essays. Now I don’t even post on Facebook anything related to controversial issues, political or otherwise. It’s not that I’ve become apathetic. It’s just that I believe I now know why two cents’ worth is called so, and of course, I’d rather channel my rage against corruption, oppression, and the like into writing fiction.

It looks like, however, I have no choice but write something opinionated about Memorandum Circular 2010-119 issued by the Department of Interior and Local Government. I have strong feelings about certain parts of the order, and I tried to suppress the feelings, but like love, they didn’t let me sleep. (I should learn how to write better similes.)

I can see the goodness of the intentions that prompted the issuance of the DILG order. I even agree that indigenous cultural communities or indigenous peoples should be given mandatory representation in local legislative councils. Such affirmative action has been necessary for the longest time. I don’t believe, however, that the process indicated in the order is the way to do it.

The biggest thing that I find wrong in the order is in the requirements for a person to qualify as ICC/IP representative. The fourth item in the list states that the person should be an “acknowledged leader of the ICCs/IPs of which he or she is a member.” The provision presupposes that each ICC in the Philippines has a well-established political system, in other words, that it has a datu who functions in the same way as a barangay chairman does. In many villages, the IPs have been assimilated into the Christian population. They no longer recognize the powers of a datu, and they have been participating in the regular electoral process. Furthermore, in some tribes, such as the Dulangan Manobo of Kulaman Plateau, datus do not wield much power, now or then. As scholar Harland Kerr observed in the late 1950s, “With the territorial groups so small and relatively unstable, the authority of the Manobo datu does not approximate that of datus from more rigidly organized societies.” The problem doesn’t stop there. The DILG order also requires municipal and provincial legislative councils to have an ICC/IP representative, but as Kerr further observed, “A datu is the head of a territorial group, with little authority outside this group. For the most part his own people are the only ones willing to recognize his authority.” Some Dulangan Manobo leaders assume the title sultan, but those sultans don’t really have power over the datus (the way a governor has over mayors) or the territory that each of those sultans rule isn’t much bigger than the territory that a datu rules.

Because of the DILG order, some ICCs are forced to stage a “traditional” process of choosing their “leader.” Worse, in some localities, non-IPs who are in power simply select the IP who seems to be the most prominent in the community; it’s no longer the IPs themselves who choose their representative. This means that the legislative seat goes to the prominent IP who is close to the powerful non-IPs or who is capable of accomplishing the bureaucratic documentary requirements. This further means that if an IP wants to have the seat, he might focus on pleasing the powerful non-IPs instead of trying to prove to his people that he deserves to speak for them.

I’m not saying that these things are happening now in my town or province. I’m not singling out for criticism any locality. These things may have happened or may happen in any locality where the DILG order can take effect. Besides, nobody here except me seems unimpressed by the order. Others—non-IPs and IPs alike, leaders and ordinary residents alike—seem willing to comply without so many questions.

So why am I writing this? I guess I just want to warn the government (in the off chance that government officials stumble on this blog) that the ICC/IP representation system, or at least in its current form, will result in local disasters sooner or later. While I’m writing the first draft of this post actually, a disaster has started in a municipality next province; the IPs there are making a serious attempt to change their municipal representative. The ICC/IP representation system might meet the same fate that befell our country’s youth representation system, the Sangguniang Kabataan. If that happens, we will only be pushing our IP brothers and sisters farther into the margins.

So what do I suggest be done? The government, of course, must look into the flaws of the suggested process. I understand that the government wants to preserve the traditional ways of life of the IPs and to incorporate those ways in our general political system. But isn’t the datu system simply incompatible with democracy? We Filipinos, who have been victims of colonization and Martial Law, should have learned from history that an authoritarian rule ultimately does nothing for ordinary people. The datu system will ultimately do nothing for ordinary indigenous people. If we want our indigenous brothers and sisters to have a voice in the greater Philippine community, we must first allow them to have a voice within their own cultural community. We must let them choose their leader and representative in a democratic way. We must count the vote of each indigenous individual. (Our electoral process, of course, is likewise replete with problems, but I believe that it is a much lesser evil compared to vesting power on warlords or hereditary rulers.)

The datu system is unstable and unreliable. It can result to a violent competition, power vacuum, or mobocracy. It doesn’t help that DILG Memorandum Circular 2010-119 gives ICCs/IPs so much leeway when it comes to sharing the term of office (for localities that have more than one indigenous tribe) and ousting their representative. The DILG memo, quoting Administrative Order No. 001 series of 2009 issued by the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples, states that the tribes in the local government unit “may agree on a term-sharing agreement based on population ratio, or on whatever local arrangement they may deem suited and applicable to address the cultural peculiarities in that LGU.” The memo further states, “The ICC/IP mandatory representative can be replaced anytime by the ICCs/IPs who selected him/her to the position in accordance with their local guidelines on recall or removal from office.”

Most likely, the ICCs/IPs who do not have an established process of selecting leaders do not also have an established process of term sharing and changing leaders. How do we expect them to execute the two courses of action in an organized manner? Also, the two courses of action are most likely not covered by the existing customary laws of ICCs/IPs and they will have to make the rules along the way. This means that they will be doing something new instead of keeping alive a traditional practice. There is nothing being preserved in this case. So why don’t we just make them adapt the democratic processes laid out in the laws of the land for the majority of the population?

I am not anti-IPs. Neither am I pro-IPs per se. I am pro-ordinary IPs. I am pro-ordinary people, IPs or otherwise. We must be careful how we try to preserve culture and promote diversity. We must make sure we don’t enthrone little kings and coddle local tyrants in the process. We must always keep in mind the welfare of ordinary IPs, the truly voiceless among the voiceless.

Large Native Containers

The alat is used for storing large objects that won’t fall through the holes of the container. If you want to know what makes an alat different from other Manobo baskets, see my March 18 post.

The lihub is made of the bark of a tree. It is used for storing grains and other items.

I made my brother stand beside a lihub for you to have an idea how large the container is.

SNA Elected Manobo Officials

Because of Memorandum Circular 2010-119 issued by the Department of Interior and Local Government, it is now required for villages and municipalities to have a representative of indigenous people in the local legislative body, if the village or municipality have a sizable number of indigenous residents. Long before the memorandum was issued, however, villages in the municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino already had Dulangan Manobo officials, and they were elected by the people at large, not put in power through a hazy set of rules allowed by the DILG order. Even in the municipal level, SNA had a Manobo legislator in the person of Datu Ampak Kawan. He was elected as a member of the Sangguniang Bayan for three consecutive terms.

The political feat that Kawan achieved, however, has not been repeated, and the number of elected Manobo officials has been most likely less in proportion to the population of indigenous people in the municipality. I have no complete record of Manobo individuals that have been members of the barangay and municipal legislative councils, but I have a list of those who are currently in office. Again, I’m talking only of those who underwent the regular electoral process and emerged victorious.

Of the twenty barangays of SNA, only four have elected Manobo kagawads. The four barangays are Kiadsam, Lagubang, Midtungok, and Nati. Kiadsam has three Manobo kagawads, Lagubang has two, Midtungok has two, and Nati has two. Kiadsam’s Ayes Anggo and Lagubang’s Baili Agsem have the highest rank, having garnered the second highest number of votes in their respective villages. The other officials in Kiadsam are Napnap Kansalin (ranked no. 4) and Kinding Ewig (no. 7). The other official in Lagubang is Egpo Salaman (no. 3). The officials in Midtungok are Tom Sipot (no. 3) and Anggio Kampil (no. 7). The officials in Nati are Lap Gamad (no. 3) and Asak Agfog (no. 5).

Native Water Containers

The Dulangan Manobo people traditionally keep their drinking water in a sekedu, made of bamboo. The design of the spout can be playful. Most likely, actual sekedus do not have beaded ornaments, as shown in this photo.

For long-distance travels, Manobos carry water in dry and hollowed-out gourds.

Seven Manobo Sultans

I was excited when I found out about three years ago that a line of Dulangan Manobo chieftains had been using the title sultan. In my post about it, I mentioned that the Manobo sultans had not been as powerful or famous as the Muslim sultans of Mindanao, but I deemed the Manobo sultans to be holding a legitimate title. I no longer feel the same way. After making an extensive research on the sultanate of Maguindanao, for it was the main material in a novel manuscript that I wrote last year, I now feel that the Manobo sultans have been a little too presumptuous in assuming the title.

Among the rulers of Maguindanao, the first to call himself sultan was Kudarat, and there is no question that he deserved the title. At the peak of his reign in the 1600s, he ruled or had influence in almost the whole mainland Mindanao. The other sultanates, except for the sultanate of Sulu, emerged as such out of their association with the sultanate of Maguindanao. The other sultans were either in-laws of the sultan of Maguindanao or cousins of the sultan who wanted their own realms to rule. I believe, therefore, that the Manobo chieftains can only use the title sultan if they are related by affinity or consanguinity to the sultan of Maguindanao.

It seems that the Manobo sultan in Kulaman village is not even remotely related to the sultan of Maguindanao. Based on a 1960s research paper by anthropologist Marcelino Maceda, the first chieftain in Kulaman village to call himself sultan was Kalulong Dakyas. Maceda claims in the paper that Dakyas himself and other informants revealed to him that a certain “Datu de Patuan of Craan, Cotabato” conferred the title to Dakyas. It’s possible that the Muslim ruler was related to the Maguindanao royal family, for Dipatuan was one of Sultan Kudarat’s names, but I doubt if has the authority to confer the title sultan. He was himself using the humbler title datu! Nevertheless, the Dakyas patriarchs are free to call themselves sultan and pass the title from one generation to the next. It’s not against Philippine laws, and as far as I know, the descendants of Sultan Kudarat do not claim exclusive right to the title.

The same prerogative is enjoyed by the other Dulangan Manobo “sultans.” I discovered from Kitab, the customary law of the tribe, that six other Manobo chieftains are using the lofty title. They are Sulutan Dod Nayam of Lebak town, Sulutan Nestor Bualao of Ampatuan, Sulutan Diamadin Balaw of Palimbang, Sulutan Juanito Pugoyan of Palimbang, Sulutan Dod Banday of Kalamansig, and Sulutan Sama Mlok Bineklao of Kalamansig. The six sultans are tegeantangs or justice officers of the tribe, along with Sulutan Rey Dakias of Kulaman (Senator Ninoy Aquino) and twenty-two datus. The Kitab further shows that Manobo sultans are not higher in rank than the Manobo datus. None of the sultans is part of the Genelal Kaunotan, the executive committee of the tribe; the seven members of the committee are all datus.

Why am I writing this? It’s not to bash the Manobo sultans. It’s to reveal to my fellow outsiders that the political structure of indigenous cultural communities can be more complex than, or so different from, what we think. The dynamics may not be the same even if they’re using familiar terms. We should be careful with our assumptions. We might be thinking that sultans are the highest authority in a tribe and then give them rights and privileges that a humbler chieftain might deserve better. We must know our indigenous brothers and sisters more. If we don’t, what we believe to be an act of kindness might be a detriment to them.

Tools for Preparing Rice

Once rice has been harvested and dried, the lesung

(mortar) and seelu (pestle) is used to separate

the chaff from the grain.

The sinulon, made of weaved bamboo strips, is used to winnow rice.

Traditional Manobo people use a kuden tana (earthen

pot) to cook rice. Kuden literally means “pot,”

and tana means “dirt.”

Jar Covers in USC Museum

Like what Marcelino Maceda did in his article in the journal Anthropos, I’m going to list here some burial jar covers and their respective descriptions. My original plan was to compare the list in Maceda’s article and the displayed items in the University of San Carlos Museum. Maceda selected thirty-five jar covers to include in the paper, and the university museum only has twenty-one now in its collection. I wanted to know which of the twenty-one were included in the thirty-five. The task, however, was headache-inducing. I decided to do the comparison some other time and focus instead on the museum collection.

Unlike what Maceda did, I can’t give you exact measurements of the jar covers. I’m basing my descriptions on the photos that I took more than three years ago. I assigned numbers on the artifacts based on how they were displayed when I took the photos. Two of the covers still serve their purpose because the jars they were made for have survived. I numbered the two last. Jar Cover No. 21 is shown in the second and third photo below, but I can’t put a number on it because the number icons in PhotoScape, the photo-editing software I used, are up to 20 only.

1—This is round and flat.
2—This is shaped like a gable and rectangular at the base.
3—This is shaped like an inverted bowl and decorated with honeycomb figures from the base to the top.
4—This is round and flat at the base, on which stands a phallus.
5—This is round and thick at the base, on which stands a short pole. The pole is decorated with honeycomb figures.
6—This is circular, squat, and shaped like a stopper for a bottle.
7—This is round and thick at the base, on which stands a short pole that is phallic at the top.
8—This looks like a bust, but the head is shaped like a diamond. On the chest, two tiny arms are carved. The arms look as though the person is touching his her heart.
9—This is shaped like an inverted bowl at the base and phallic from the middle to the top. Eyes, nose, and ears are carved on the glans penis.
10—This is shaped like an inverted bowl at the base. Two legs are carved on the base, and there’s a tiny protrusion between them, probably representing a penis. The base extends upward into a short pole, which is broken. The figure attached on top of the pole may be from another specimen because its color is not same. The figure is shaped like a neck and a head of a human being, with excavated eyes, ears, and mouth.
11—This is a bust of a man. The base is circular and shaped like an inverted bowl. The arms of the figure are embossed and form a semicircle. Three straight grooves run from the neck of the figure to the edge of the base. The head looks like a real person, with the eyes and mouth excavated and the nose and ears embossed.
12—This is a pyramid but has a circular base.
13—This is shaped like a standing human being, but the legs are merely carved on the base, which looks like an inverted bowl. The figure is as humanlike as a doll, but the left arm is missing.
14—This is flat and circular at the base, which supports a figure of a person’s upper body. The frontal part of the figure appears to have crumbled.
15—This looks like an elongated gable. On one side is an embossed outline of a human body, but the arms and legs stretch outward before curving down. The fingers and toes are large and long.
16—This is circular and nearly flat at the base, which supports a short pole that slightly goes smaller in circumference as it goes higher. A ropelike protrusion goes around the pole in the middle, making the pole look as though it has two layers. Spiral flutings decorate the base, and vertical flutings decorate the pole.
17—This is circular and thick yet flat at the base. Jutting from the base is a short knob that goes wider as it goes higher. Simple straight flutings decorate the sides of the knob and the top surface of the base.
18—This is round and flat at the base, which supports a large figure of a neck and a man’s head. The eyes, the holes of the nose, and the mouth are excavated, and the ears are slightly embossed.
19—This is shaped like a gable and nearly square at the base. The diamond-like cut at the top of the gable is probably a yoni.
20—This is shaped like a gable. On one side, it has a figure of a human being that resembles a lizard. The figure has a tail, and the arms and legs are splayed out. The head has holes representing eyes and a mouth. I don’t have a good photo of the other side of the lid, but according to Maceda’s journal article, the other side has a similar figure but without a tail.
21—This is square, thin, and flat at the base, which supports a short pole with a glans penis at the top. The glans penis has holes that represent a person’s eyes, nostrils, and mouth. Arms that look like limbs of a lizard are carved from just below the glans penis down to the length of the pole and the top surface of the base until they reach the edge.

Bamboo Cases for Betel Quid

Let me admit it at the outset: I don’t know the correct Manobo name for the object that I’m going to feature today. This is quite a failure on my part as a researcher, considering my claim that the object is my favorite among the displayed items in Delesan Menubo. The object is a tiny bamboo stem used by Manobo men as a container for their betel quid. Each one has an accompanying lid, apparently fashioned from the same stem. If it were made of plastic, it can be easily mistaken for a lipstick case, albeit fatter.

What I like about the tiny bamboo case is the design on its surface. The design is carved on the bamboo with probably the tip of a penknife, and each case has a unique design. If you look closely, you can see that the design is composed only of simple geometric cuts, but when viewed as a whole, the cuts make the bamboo case a work of art. The design looks so intricate that I want to have a collection of these betel quid containers. One of the cases displayed in Delesan Menubo even has braided strips of black vine wrapped around it as an additional decoration.

I thought the name of the object is fuyot, which is described in the Kitab (Dulangan Manobo Customary Law) as “gamit ng lalaki lalagyan ng mama” (men’s container for betel quid). My other sources state, however, that a fuyot is a small drawstring bag. Maybe anything that is used to keep betel quid is called fuyot. When I asked the Manobo girls in Delesan Menubo what a fuyot was, I think some of them pointed a cloth bag and some of them pointed the tiny bamboo cases. I have to look for a Dulangan Manobo again to verify these things. For now, let me show you the three bamboo cases on display in Delesan Menubo.

Update: I've learned that the tiny case is called a selapa. I wrote the post in November 2015, and I asked a Manobo woman for the correct term in January 2016.