Friday, April 29, 2016

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.

(Blogger's note: This post is part of a series on items that the Dulangan Manobo people traditionally use in their daily lives. Special thanks to the RNDM nuns assigned in Kulaman Plateau. For more information about the series, read my introductory post or click the label Delesan Menubo below.)

Monday, April 25, 2016

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.

Friday, April 22, 2016

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.

(Blogger's note: This post is part of a series on items that the Dulangan Manobo people traditionally use in their daily lives. Special thanks to the RNDM nuns assigned in Kulaman Plateau. For more information about the series, read my introductory post or click the label Delesan Menubo below.)

Monday, April 18, 2016

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).

Friday, April 15, 2016

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.

(Blogger's note: This post is part of a series on items that the Dulangan Manobo people traditionally use in their daily lives. Special thanks to the RNDM nuns assigned in Kulaman Plateau. For more information about the series, read my introductory post or click the label Delesan Menubo below.)

Monday, April 11, 2016

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.

Friday, April 8, 2016

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.”

(Blogger's note: This post is part of a series on items that the Dulangan Manobo people traditionally use in their daily lives. Special thanks to the RNDM nuns assigned in Kulaman Plateau. For more information about the series, read my introductory post or click the label Delesan Menubo below.)