Despite persecution, seasoned missioners serve rural poor in Philippines

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By Sr. Edita C. Eslopor, OSB/RMP

I have belonged to the Congregation of the Missionary Benedictine Sisters of Tutzing for 40 years, and since I am assigned to the remotest of the rural areas — serving those on the margins of society (the lost, the least and the last living) — I also work with the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines.

I have found my niche interacting with the sisters and lay mission partners from different congregations in the Philippines, and with parishes whose visions and missions share our common commitment to helping people in poverty. It is here that I genuinely appreciated the charism of our congregation. I am indeed grateful for God’s grace to persevere in my call to be a missionary in the Philippines.

From my experience, I could compare the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines, as an organization, to a nutshell.

A nutshell is a hard covering in which the edible kernel of a nut is enclosed; it is sturdy and impenetrable and cannot be broken easily. If you strike it incorrectly, it will bounce back and be unchanged. The term in a nutshell is also used in writing or speaking to say something briefly, using a few words.

Missionary Benedictine Sr. Edita Eslopor climbs to visit an Indigenous Lumad village in the Philippines after an hourlong motorcycle ride. (Courtesy of Rural Missionaries of the Philippines)

I was reflecting on this when the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines commemorated its 54th anniversary last August 2022. It had struggled through the pandemic; relentless “red-tagging” as terrorist or communist under the Anti-Terrorism Law; ongoing vilifications; killings; and freezing the group’s funds through the government’s Anti-Money Laundering Council. These funds should have been spent to help the rural people in poverty, especially peasants, Indigenous peoples, fisherfolk, and their people’s organizations.

Founded on Aug. 15, 1969, the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines is the oldest mission partner of the Conference of the Major Superiors in the Philippines. In a nutshell — Rural Missionaries of the Philippines is resilient and can weather storm after storm, for it is well-designed to serve the poorest of the poor in the rural areas in the Philippines.

Seasoned religious women, men and lay partners who espouse the vision, mission and goals of Rural Missionaries of the Philippines are at the helm of the organization. They have accomplished much and made a name here and abroad for more than five decades now.

They are a paragon of service to the rural poor. Hence, the group is closely watched and vilified by the powers that be, and red-tagged by the military because the missionaries are so down-to-earth. They remind me of what Pope Francis said when he instructed priests: “Be shepherds with the smell of the sheep.”

And how relevant is what Bishop Dom Hélder Câmara said: “When I give food to the poor they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.”

As the military unjustly attacked the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines by red-tagging them and freezing the funds intended for the peasants’ organizations, the missioners bounced back and continued to perform their missionary undertakings according to the saying: The mission is not ours; the mission is God’s.

The Rural Missionaries of the Philippines is home to different sisters, priests and lay mission partners from different congregations. They took to heart their mission and seriously looked at the signs of the times — not as an ordinary event but as a call and a challenge that needed a response.

What made these followers of Christ read the signs of the times with the eyes and ears of their hearts? The sisters who have led the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines through the years are visionary and extraordinary women at the forefront of contextualizing their faith. Their feat is amazing and worth emulating.

To celebrate how the group has enfleshed its God-given mission, I tried to itemize it:

  • Five decades — of grateful and consistent journeying with the rural poor, partner organizations and funding agencies, to give birth to an organization of missionary doctors and health professionals (the Council for Health and Development);
  • 600 months — of meeting, assessing, planning to research, and attending rallies in solidarity with the people and other cause-oriented groups;
  • 2,607 weeks — of breathing in the “smell of their sheep,” working with farmers, fisherfolk and Indigenous people, stressing the need to ally with the people’s organizations;
  • 18,263 days — of talking the talk, facilitating fact-finding missions, medical missions, scholarship, and the like; of walking the walk with back-breaking responsibilities to help the people help themselves through their projects, thus empowering them;
  • 18,438,312 hours — of home visiting, contact building, providing/facilitating task reflections/assemblies/exposure, sharing and praying the Bible in the context of the lived experiences of the poor people they serve;
  • 26,298,720 minutes — of parrying the impact of the red-tagging and vilifying attacks from the military, of defending their God-given mission and congregational mandates, and of praying most earnestly for God’s guidance and protection.

As I lived my missionary life and when I looked to the lifelong members with their lean figures and malformed bodies, and dearly beloved departed missionaries, they always energized me beyond words. They mirrored the long years of great service and unwavering belief in the God of the poor and the giftedness of the people they served; their sacrifices for a cause they believed in; and their efforts without counting the cost that made their lives relevant and meaningful.

Missionary Benedictine Sr. Edita Eslopor and an African fellow sister distribute school supplies in a village in the rural Philippines. (Courtesy of Rural Missionaries of the Philippines)

Francis reminded those who serve, “We must not forget that true power, at whatever level, is service.” Their whole worthwhile life is their humble offering back to God for the grace and care that God has bestowed on them through the years.

These people are awash with good memories of their experiences with the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines. Such a treasure — more precious than gold — is cherished in their hearts through the years.

Quo vadis, Rural Missionaries of the Philippines, in the next 50 years? This is a question often asked, given the worsening situation in the country and a lackluster Philippine president. But the missioners have the hope and a cast-iron certainty that God is always on the side of the poor, as he loved them and made so many of them!

As for those who served the people living in poverty, God will always bless them with peace and grace. The missionaries endured and will continue to persevere, for in the words of an African proverb, they stand tall on the shoulders of many ancestors.

The rural missionaries will move on with grit and determination. God’s grace transformed them into extraordinary missioners. And they take heart from St. Oscar Romero’s testimonial: “Even when they call us mad, when they call us subversives and communists and all the epithets they put on us, we know we only preach the subversive witness of the Beatitudes, which have turned everything upside down.” #

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Editor’s note: Sr. Edita Eslopor was red-tagged herself and her community has missioned her to another location.

This article was originally published by the globalsistersreport.org.

I was Luis Teodoro’s student, and I took it for granted

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By JC Gotinga

I was a broadcasting student at UP Diliman, and Journalism 101 was part of the syllabus. But I had no plans of becoming a journalist, and I didn’t really concern myself with current affairs.

I thought I was going to be a hotshot TV-and-film director. This was before there were smartphones. We shot our projects with MiniDV handycams. The iPod, a music player that didn’t require CDs or tapes, was just a rumor.

I remember next to nothing from my Journ 101 classes. What I do remember in vivid detail was the time I made Professor Teodoro so fuming mad, I worried he was going to have a heart attack.

My friend Naomi and I sat on the back row of his class – very telling of how much interest we had in the subject. That day, a new issue of a university paper that was a parody of The Collegian was going around. In the middle of class, Naomi nudged me and showed me something funny – inappropriate – on the back page. I don’t remember what it was, but I blurted out in laughter.

It was a scene out of a jackass movie where the whole class turns to look at you, tutting their disapproval.

I had never offended a teacher before that. I was a teacher’s pet all through elementary and high school, and I’d generally been cool with my college profs. It’s just that journ class bored me to death, and I didn’t think I’d have anything to do with journalism.

Even I was in shock and disbelief at the creature I had, at that moment, become.

“Who laughed?” Professor Teodoro demanded to know.

I raised my hand.

I forget what he had been discussing, but it was, like all of his lectures, serious. In so many words, he told me how dare I laugh in the face of such profundities. How dare I make light of a subject, of a practice, of a tradition for which he and his contemporaries had been incarcerated and tortured, even murdered.

He was so angry he was trembling. I half-expected him to faint. His eyes behind his thick glasses watered.

He walked away from the whiteboard and towards the window. He held on to the sill, and I thought he was being dramatic. The light from outside cut him a sharp profile from where I sat.

He then started talking about the mortal dangers he and his contemporaries lived through while fighting the Marcos dictatorship. He mentioned Amando Doronila who I gathered was his friend and an equally battle-scarred journo.

I think back on this now and I realize it might not have been anger that riled him up but frustration. Frustration at how, no matter how sharp, eloquent, beautiful, profound his lectures were, the message was still lost on the likes of me – heathen children of a younger generation privileged to not have known mortal crisis.

The heat of his rage dissipated and his tone mellowed. Still by the window where the light outlined his sharp nose and tall forehead, he talked about the struggles of the era we were lucky to have missed. He talked about jail. I couldn’t imagine him, the most dignified man I had ever met, a prisoner.

I imagined myself as a prisoner. I asked my self, fleetingly, if I would ever let myself be so given to a cause like patriotism or free speech that I’d end up a prisoner.

No, thanks, Professor. Thank you for your sacrifices. But I am a soft child of my fortunate generation. I am sorry you lived through a terrible time, but now is a different time. A more enlightened time. People and the world have evolved, and we don’t need to inherit your hard-skinned virtues.

My thoughts at the time. And then life and current events happened. Here I am, a journalist.

I understand now how events can turn so that a good, dignified man can end up in prison. That powerful people with much to lose are capable of torture and other nasty things because, like every other person, they’re selfish, but the stakes for them are much higher, and they’d probably long sold their soul to get to that level of wealth and influence anyway.

I’ve now seen for myself the [many forms of] oppression the Professor battled. I now try to battle them myself as another wielder of a pen. I now ride the nag I inherited from him and his contemporaries to confront dragons disguised as windmills. I, like him, now even make references to literary classics.

Time has a way of teaching you the lessons you missed when they were first taught to you, right? I’ve found myself staring out of windows a few times, wondering what went wrong and what I could have done differently and how else I could communicate what I think people need to understand. In the few years since our democracy started to decline, I’ve been in a constant rage, wanting to both embrace and destroy this heathen generation that can’t seem to recognize its own good.

I don’t think Professor Teodoro would have remembered me. I did hope to find myself again in the same room as him and introduce myself as that student who laughed during his class two decades ago, and say that I am sorry. Not just for disrespecting him, but for taking his message for granted.

That message found another way to reach me, and I still cannot really claim to be his student in the real sense of the word. But at least I think he would have enjoyed the irony and savored the poetic justice time has served him.

I could wish his heart wasn’t broken by our country’s recent history, but I am certain it was. I, the heathen who only recently came to the light, am heartbroken. How could he, who had wagered far more for the cause than anyone, not be?

His sun set under the rule of the same family that terrorized his generation. If we are headed for darker times, then his passing is a mercy to one who has fought battles long enough.

Because what I did pick up as the man averted his gaze from me that day I disrespected him was that he would never, ever, have stopped fighting. Even then, he seemed frail of body, but I saw his spirit, and it made me tremble. Only his body could fail him.

Rest in peace, Professor Teodoro. Please forgive me. #

A YEAR OF HEROES: A 2022 Yearender

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By Renato Reyes Jr., Bagong Alyansang Makabayan secretary general

I will remember 2022 for the heroic sacrifices of comrades and friends who fought for a just, free and democratic society. While there are those are no longer with us, there are also those who continue on the path of resistance. I offer this year-ender as a tribute to all those who have departed while serving the people to their very last breath. I likewise give recognition to the tireless work done by the different sectors, groups and organizations who remain steadfast amid great difficulties. The propaganda machinery of the state will try their best to vilify them and tarnish their memory, but the people know better and these lies will ultimately be exposed.

The start of the year saw the passing of Rita T. Baua, our longest serving official in Bayan, after a battle with cancer. A week before her passing, she struggled to sit on the hospital bed, to raise her fist, for a picture that would be sent to comrades and friends, as if to challenge them to keep fighting.

Not long after Rita’s passing, we mourned the death of Chad Booc who was killed together with Lumad volunteer teacher Jojarain Alce Nguho III, health worker Elgyn Balonga, and drivers Roberto Aragon and Tirso Añar. The military claimed there was an encounter but witnesses deny this. Their deaths were again part of a “fake encounter” used to justify the extrajudicial killings. We also bade goodbye this year to Nelia Sancho, a stalwart of the feminist movement in the Philippines and former Gabriela founder and Bayan chair. This year, we also lost Marie Hilao Enriquez, the former chair of Karapatan, due to illness.

Towards the end of the year, we grieved the death of our dear friend Ericson Acosta, who was killed by the military in another “fake encounter” in Kabankalan, Negros . His death weighed heavily on us, coming a little over a year after the death of his wife Kerima Tariman. The outpouring of love and support however from various sectors and from the cultural community assures us that his memory will live on. The fight for justice will continue in 2024.

And then there was the death of the revolutionary trailblazer and thinker Prof. Jose Ma. Sison, 83, which was mourned all over the world, most especially by activists and revolutionaries in the Philippines. Tributes came in from different groups and personalities amid the relentless attacks by the enemies of the people and absurd restrictions and repeated take-downs by social media giant Facebook. His memory lives on in the people’s struggles for national and social liberation.

The electoral campaign

The year 2022 was marked by intense struggles, from the electoral campaign, to the resistance to a Marcos restoration, continuing human rights violations and the worsening economic crisis.

The first half of the year saw an upsurge in mass mobilizations during the electoral campaign in support of the Opposition forces against the Marcos-Duterte tandem. Hundreds of thousands of people joined the Leni-Kiko rallies across the country. Issues such as the Marcos ill-gotten wealth, human rights violations and abuse of power were discussed on a daily basis during the campaign. After two years of pandemic restrictions, it was time for the people to turn out in large numbers to let their voices be heard. Thousands of volunteers went house to house, and undertook a massive campaign to counter the well-funded machinery of the Marcoses.

The Marcos-Duterte tandem employed a combination of vote-buying, massive disinformation, red-tagging and fascist repression, together with a non-transparent automated election system, to be able to claim victory. It was apparent that despite the clam of 31 million votes, there were no spontaneous celebrations of so-called Marcos supporters in the aftermath of the counting. There were however protest marches in front of the Comelec, near the PICC, the CHR and in Plaza Miranda in the days after the election results were announced.

While Leni Robredo may have conceded the elections, many refused to simply accept the outcome and vowed to continue fighting. Ika nga, kapag namulat, kasalanan na ang pumikit. We welcome the many concerned individuals and activists who have taken the extra step beyond the electoral arena, and into the much wider arena of struggle for systemic change.

Political prisoners fight back

This year saw the release of several political prisoners including labor leader Dennise Velasco, and the Tondo 3 of Reina Mae Nasino, Alma Moran and Ram Carlo Bautista, Bayan Panay chair Elmer Forro, Bayan CL chair Pol Viuya, Karapatan human rights worker Nimfa Lanzanas from Laguna, and several others from Bicol and Cagayan. They are all victims either of questionable search warrants or plain trumped-up charges. The State, especially under Duterte, has resorted to the perversion of the legal system and gross violations of due process just so they could put activists behind bars. Many remain incarcerated on false charges, including several peace consultants of the NDFP. The political prisoners who continue to struggle even when behind bars, are among this year’s heroes.

ML@50

The Filipino people observed the 50th anniversary of the imposition of Marcos’ martial law with a firm commitment to never forget and to fight historical distortions aimed at whitewashing the crimes of the dictator. During this period, there were lectures, historical tours, film screenings, and a huge gathering in UP, all with the same message of “never again” and “never forget”. Katips the Movie served as a timely counterpoint to Maid in Malacanang. The Bantayog ng mga Bayani became a classroom for lessons on history.

Revolutionaries are not terrorists

On the same day the Filipino people were commemorating the 50th anniversary of Martial Law, news broke that a Manila RTC judge dismissed the proscription case filed against the Communist Party of the Philippines – New People’s Army. Overnight, Judge Marlo Malagar became the number one target of the mouthpieces of the NTF-ELCAC, which even earned one a show cause order from no less than the Supreme Court. The decision of Judge Malagar provides an interesting legal insight on why revolutionaries, and those who take up arms for clear political objectives and programs, are not necessarily terrorists. It also exposed the folly of the Philippine government’s attacks against the revolutionary forces, instead of addressing the roots of the armed conflict.

PH human rights record under scrutiny

The Philippine government’s human rights record came under heavy scrutiny by United Nations member-states during the regular Universal Periodic review. Several states called for accountability in the drug war killings under Duterte, an end to red-tagging of activists and journalists, and for the Philippines to rejoin the ICC. The Philippine government was put on the defensive over the lack of meaningful changes in the human rights situation in the Philippines after the Marcos regime took power. During the year, we witnessed intense militarization of the cities and countryside, including the bombings and artillery shelling of communities and forrest areas suspected of being NPA encampments. The practice of forcing civilians to “surrender” as members of the NPA, to be paraded in public as part of the so-called “localized peace talks” aka “surrender talks”, continues.

Another victory for justice was achieved when a Bacolod court convicted two military personnel over the killing of labor organizer and Bayan Muna coordinator Benjamin Bayles 12 years ago in Himamaylan, Negros Occidental.

Protests against Kamala, US military aid

During the second half of the year, US Vice President Kamala Harris visited the Philippines to promote the lopsided US-PH relations. The US continues to maintain its strategic interest in the Philippines and Asia, with Marcos Jr providing unqualified support for his imperialist masters. Marcos Jr, during his recent trip to the US, which was met with daily protests, Marcos said he could not imagine a future without the US. The US State Department meanwhile has pledged to provide $100 million in military aid to the Philippines, which will likely be used for state terrorism against revolutionary groups and the people. Marcos is seen moving closer to the US than his predecessor.

The economic crisis and the people’s response

The start of the Marcos II regime was marked by public debt at a historic high, soaring inflation, a weakening peso, and a clamor for higher wages and lower prices. Inflation and low wages were consistently the top two concerns of the people, according to surveys. This year brought us record high prices for gasoline and onions, bringing tears to the eyes of consumers.

Amid the economic crisis, the Marcoses were seen partying in Singapore for the F1 Grand Prix, an incident which drew widespread criticism of the ostentatious lifestyle of the President.

Before the year ended, labor groups and consumers were clamoring for a substantial wage hike and for government intervention to lower prices. Various labor groups joined forces for a huge march on November 30, the birth anniversary of the revolutionary Andres Bonifacio, to call for the implementation of the family living wage.

Mass transport crisis remains

As COVID restrictions were eased and the movement of people increased, the issue of the mass transport crisis again came to the fore. Free rides at the EDSA Carousel are about to end, and the Marcos regime is now thinking of privatizing the carousel. The NAIA is also slated for privatization. Instead of investing in mass transport and basic transportation facilities, the Marcos regime has chosen the discredited path of privatization which will inevitably lead to price increases and profit guarantees shouldered by tax payers. Just take a look at the water services which are set to increase again over the next five years, or the rising cost of privatized electricity which are a source of non-stop burden for consumers. Privatizing mass transport shows a lack of effort and long-term solutions on the part of the government.

SIM card registration

Before the year ended, mobile phone users were forced to register their SIM cards starting December 27. On its first few days, there were already problems that threatened the privacy of consumers. Selfies were required from people registering their prepaid SIM cards even if such was not part of the law. Some telcos made their subscribers sign waivers on the use of their data by the telcos, which proved the criticism of various groups that user’s privacy will be compromised as telcos attempt to profit from these. The collection of user’s personal information in a data base by telcos poses many problems which we are seeing unfold right now. It will only be a matter of time before this law is again challenged in the courts and in the streets.

Mandatory ROTC and Maharlika Fund

Before session ended, two measures were rushed by the allies of the President in the Lower House, These were the Maharlika Investment Fund, whose name was a deliberate throwback to the dictator Marcos, and the two-year mandatory National Citizens Service Training (NCST) program. The Maharlika Investment Fund was initially met with strong opposition when it proposed to utilize the pension funds of the SSS and GSIS. The proposal comes in the wake of massive public debt and a looming global recession in 2023. It has been branded as a vehicle for crony capitalism, wherein state funds are funneled into companies with suspected links to the families in power. The NCST meanwhile has been criticized as “mandatory ROTC in disguise” and as another means of extending the reach of the military inside educational institutions.

For the year 2023, we draw inspiration from our heroes who have passed on, and from the heroes who continue to fight on despite tremendous challenges. We have an unshakeable faith in the people, in their capacity to understand, act and triumph. Ang masa, ang siyang tunay na bayani, as the song goes. We remain ever optimistic and steadfast in the struggle. #

‘We will never forget the atrocities! We will continue our fight for justice!’

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Reaction to Senator Robin Padilla’s statement re Martial Law@50

By Amirah Lidasan

Assalamo Alaikum, brother Robin.

Your Bangsamoro brothers and sisters cannot accept your talk asking us to forget the dark years of Martial Law, and “move on” so that we can “grow.”

To forget the decade-long dictatorship is to perpetuate impunity and injustice for the victims of human rights abuses during Martial Law.

As survivors and families of victims of Martial Law, we can never forget the brutal military operations launched to force the Bangsamoro people out of our communities in Mindanao and to subdue the Bangsamoro resistance that defended our communities and fought for our right to self-determination.

The author (left) during the protest actions marking the 50th anniversary of the declaration of martial law by former president Ferdinand Marcos Sr.

How can we forget the killings or “salvaging,” the massacres, the mass arrests and detention, the torture, the burning and destruction of our communities?

Many Bangsamoro children were not only orphaned but became victims themselves as the military, police, and vigilantes committed the worst forms of human rights violations against our people.

On September 24, we will be reminded again of the Palembang Massacre, the death of more than 1,500 Bangsamoro people in the town of Sultan Kudarat in 1972.

To this day, the perpetrators are still not held accountable for these crimes. Worse, they returned to power with the help of a systematized campaign of historical distortion, massive disinformation, electoral fraud, and six-year years of former President Duterte’s fascist rule.

Most of the Bangsamoro victims were not recognized and some were left out of the compensation program. We were again subjected to the same atrocities as former President Duterte unleashed a five-month campaign of military airstrikes and ground operations in Marawi City.

It is disappointing and downright insulting to ask us to forget. We had hoped that your place in the Senate would help amplify our voice for justice, rather than be part of the apologists of the worst human rights violators. #

(The author is an officer of Bayan Muna Party and the Moro-Christian Peoples’ Alliance)

‘Uncle Eddie’

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That’s me slumped at the edge of the EDSA Shrine platform, wearing a white t-shirt and looking at the programme print out that has just been totally disordered by the arrival of wearing a white undershirt and addressing the crowd. I was co-emceeing and we just introduced him, his first appearance at the historic event. He walked from the airport to the EDSA Shrine because traffic was at a standstill and, when he arrived, immediately re-enacted his iconic “People Power Jump.” That’s FVR of course, the guy who has had a huge impact in our country’s recent history and who has died three days ago at 94 years old.

FVR addressing the crowd at EDSA People Power II. (Photo by Ramon Ramirez [+]/Arkibong Bayan)

My paternal grandfather Leon was reportedly a childhood friend and constant playmate of FVR’s dad, the diplomat and politician Narciso. There was also a claim by Pangasinan relatives that our respective families are kin. How, no one among the living on our side could now substantiate. So, far removed at best, if at all. A second degree aunt was a long-time caretaker of the Ramos family’s ancestral house in Asingan, now a museum. I once told this story to his nephew, veteran peace negotiator and former mayor-congressman-cabinet secretary Nani Braganza, and he and I have since taken to calling each other “manong”.

In my younger and hungrier times, I was a struggling business reporter when given an assignment to write a piece on former First Lady Ming Ramos’ Clean & Green Foundation-Piso Para sa Pasig. Someone must’ve have liked what I came out with because I was pirated on the day it was published. Then began nine years of me ghostwriting for the then FL. The most memorable pieces I churned out were her speeches. Inevitably, I had been tasked to do one for FVR himself when we launched the Pasig River International Marathon with him as special guest. That’s just a one off however, FVR having a dedicated team of highly-regarded wordsmiths as speechwriters when he was President, including my UP professor Butch Dalisay.

After his photo ops run with the runners, FVR was relaxing under a tent with his trademark unlit cigar (never saw him smoke them) when the Foundation executive director grabbed my arm to drag and introduce me : “Mr. President, meet the guy who wrote your speech, Raymund,” she said. Before I could greet him good morning, the old man had by then grabbed my hand for a shake and squeezed so hard I began to tear up. “I liked the speech,” he said. He said more kind words but I could not recall them now, remembering only that I was struggling not to yelp while trying hard to squeeze hard back to save some dignity.

He asked me to have a sit with him and, prolly noticing my skin, asked, “Ilokano ka met, balong?” “Ybanag, Mr. President. But my father is Ilokano from San Manuel.” I then told him about my father’s family’s claim of once being close to his family. He then fished out a cigar from his breast pocket and offered it to me, saying “For that speech, kaanakan,” he said.

The author [right, in white t-shirt] during the violent dispersal of protesters during FVR’s 1994 SONA. (Photo by now unknown photographer)

Of course I did not tell him I was an activist and became one when he was president.  I did not like that he privatized many government assets and I disagreed with his liberalization of the economy. One time, when he was no longer president, we met him at his Peace and Development Foundation office in Makati to ask him to remind the water concessionaires to make good with their commitment to treat wastewater per their privatization contracts. We told him the Pasig River will never be fully rehabilitated if untreated wastewater is still dumped on the country’s most famous waterway. He rebuffed us, but in a nice enough way.

I rejoined journalism years later and started reporting on the peace process between the Government of the Republic of the Philippines (GRP) and the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP). I learned that the most number and most significant peace agreements were forged with the former general as president. Among these were The Hague Joint Declaration, the Joint Agreement on Safety and Immunity Guarantees and the Comprehensive Agreement on Respect for Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law (which was affirmed by the Joseph Estrada administration a few months after its crafting). These are the documents that—surprise! surprise!—the NDFP insists should be respected and used as framework in the talks, unlike the militarists and the social democrats who always try to have them dismissed as “documents of perpetual division.”

Peace talks between the GRP and the NDFP were most successful with Ramos as GRP President, both parties agree. Veteran negotiators like to narrate that once the GRP panel declared an end to the talks and went home because of a very contentious issue, FVR ordered them go back and resume the negotiations with the words: “Who told you to stop negotiating?”

We know how the talks went with the Erap, GMA, PNoy and Duterte administrations. Based on pronouncements of the new administration, it is looking like there will not a resumption in the near future either.

If only for how FVR pushed forward the peace process, let me say, “Agyaman, Uncle.” # (Raymund B. Villanueva)

The former president’s wake shall be at the Heritage Park in Taguig City starting tomorrow, August 4 until August 8. He will be interred at the Libingan ng mga Bayani on August 9.

Titus as Journalist: Titus Brandsma and the Freedom of the Press

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By Raymund B Villanueva

(Lecture delivered last April 26 to an Institute of Spirituality in Asia webinar as part of Titus Brandsma Canonization 2022 Committee celebrations of the Order of Carmelites in the Philippines. Pope Francis is set to canonize Blessed Titus Brandsma, OCarm with nine others at the Vatican today, March 15.)

Thank you once more for inviting me to yet another Institute of Spirituality in Asia webinar. This time, I won’t be talking about something I am very familiar with. In fact, it is a bit presumptuous of me to accept the invitation to talk about the Blessed Titus Brandsma as a journalist because I am quite sure he is more familiar to you than he is to me. I accepted because I believe I can make comparisons, parallelisms and juxtapositions to what he endured to defend freedom of the press and of expression and what we as practicing journalists of today have to contend with as well. Also, it is quite an honor to be made part of the Philippine celebrations in anticipation of his canonization next month, one that should not be declined lightly.

Aside from being a philosophy teacher, a Carmelite religious, mystic, reformer and many other things, Titus took on the role of a journalist and was chief editor of De Stad Oss, which he gave a new identity to. He wrote an impressive number of articles for the Carmelrozen Magazine that focused on spirituality. Sources said journalism occupied a special place in Titus’ heart, considering it an excellent opportunity to give the spiritual life a place in what was then an increasingly secularizing Dutch society. He also wrote articles on Dutch piety in De Gerderlander and served as an adviser to the Roman Catholic Journalists’ Association.

Here is where I will attempt to draw parallelisms and juxtapositions.

I consider those who enter the world of journalism lucky because it was not only their dream but also because they have spent their young lives preparing to become one. They are blessed with not only clear dreams and definite goals and so have studied and trained to become one from school. Many were fortunate to be hired and to work as one, and more blessed are they if they have spent the best years of their lives being, serving and living as journalists.

They must have seen and still see journalism as a life worth living, a force of good not just for themselves but for others. To devote oneself to such a lifelong undertaking, they must consider the calling as beyond just trade, skill, a way to earn a living, or, for personal glory by way of the byline. Sure, these are reasons by themselves, but journalism, good or bad, is beyond all these.

Blessed Titus’ journey into journalism started, I believe, like most lifelong journalists did and do, at least in the Philippines. He was not a child who dreamt of being a journalist and formally studied to become one. He studied and trained to become a religious and, when he was already one, became a journalist as well, among many other concerns and personal projects.

I have heard it said repeatedly that becoming a good journalist is not necessarily premised on having studied journalism formally. In fact, one should study and master other disciplines in order to become a knowledgeable journalist, one who is not just a master in stringing words together but someone who may also know a thing or two about what s/he reports about. For example, one who has studied economics has a better chance of becoming a good business reporter or a political science graduate is more likely to become a good correspondent reporting on government.

But what about news writing and reportorial skills? Shouldn’t prospective journalists study that as their main training? Well, yes. But what I am trying to say is, becoming anything is not solely dependent on one’s academic training. One can become good at anything if s/he puts his/her mind and body into it which, in Blessed Titus’ case, was successful. Journalists do not just come from journalism schools. They come from everywhere, as Fr. Ritche Salgado, OCarm, who was already a licensed physical therapist before becoming a journalist and later on a religious, showed us. I am another example of sorts. I studied Philosophy and Letters at a school that had no journalism program, yet here I am fancying and styling myself as one.

But Blessed Titus was, of course, a cut above our humble examples. Because of his spirituality, he became a journalist to amplify his thoughts, beliefs and faith. His journalism became an energetic conduit to sharing, informing, educating, evangelizing and witnessing. He wrote, edited and published to give more fullness to his calling and mission. He was a force in arguing for the spiritual life in an increasingly secularizing society.

Blessed Titus’ spirituality and his journalism were not nebulous things. They were also firmly anchored in the temporal, such as denouncing and fighting evil in this world like Nazism and the assassination of freedom of the press and expression. It came to fore when the Third Reich invaded his homeland The Netherlands in May 1940. He did not only write against this evil, he also took on the very dangerous mission in January 1942 to deliver by hand a letter from the Conference of Dutch Bishops to the editors of Catholic newspapers ordering them not to print official Nazi documents, as was dictated by the German occupiers. He also urged Catholic newspapers and magazines to not accept and print advertisements from groups that supported Nazism. He had accomplished delivering this message to 14 editors before being arrested on 19 January of that year. He is now known, most of all by the Philippine Carmel, to be the Martyr of Press Freedom for refusing to let falsehood and evil see print, even at the cost of his life.

And here is another parallelism: fascism is still with us today, no less evil as when Nazi boots trampled Blessed Titus’ people. Spilled blood paint streets, lives ebb as plaintive cries rend the air. Poverty is the people’s reality while our rulers flaunt wealth sucked from the sinews and marrows of emaciated bodies of workers. Have you seen how our people patiently wait for the chance to catch a ride morning and night, dreaming of laying their heads for a few hours of rest before another day’s suffering? Titus would have looked at these scenes and wrote about them from and with his light. It is possible that had he been a journalist during our times, he would have railed against the social injustices and be persecuted.

Many journalists today die because because of such stories. Marlene Esperat exposed the fertilizer scam and died for it when armed men stormed into her house one night and shot her in front of her children. Broadcaster Gerry Ortega railed against the rape and plunder of the environment and was shot to death in full view of many people in Puerto Princesa, Palawan. Under the Rodrigo Duterte regime, at least 22 journalists have been killed. We have documented hundreds and hundreds of attacks on press freedom including cyber-attacks, vilification, arrests, trumped-up charges, red-tagging and many others.

Because as in the time of Hitler, so it is today with Duterte. In the face of social injustices, many journalists try to be as Titus, refusing to be dictated upon, muzzled, and ordered to be the purveyor of falsehood and evil. They may not have heard about Titus Brandsma, but one thing with goodness and light is that they manifest in other humans and through acts that may be described as spiritual for one.

In a few weeks’ time, the Church will elevate Blessed Titus to its pantheon of saints. He shall be another intercession for our collective dream for fullness of humanity. And this blessing could not come at a better time for journalists and the Filipino people. When the religious, the journalists, human rights defenders, public interest lawyers, land reform advocates, militant labor, are being killed, St. Titus would implore us to be with them as witnesses. When falsehoods are misrepresented as facts, when the media are subverted and corrupted, when trolls try to be the definers of truth, St. Titus, by his witness, would implore us to counter with real truth. #

(The author is the 2015 Titus Brandsma Philippines awardee for Emerging Leadership in Journalism.)

ANXIETY, FEAR, HOPE: A first time voter’s journal

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By Justine Nicole Malonzo

I was nervous when I stepped inside our voters’ precinct last Monday. I held my ballot and pen gently, afraid I might accidentally put an unwanted mark or shade the wrong circle that would invalidate my vote.

I was worried when the machine didn’t read my ballot the first time. And the second time. And the third time. I gave out a nervous laugh and the election inspector, in an effort to relax me a bit, said, “The machine is just tired.” I do not know if it was in their manual of operations but the machine finally read my ballot on my fourth try after the inspector suggested I feed it bottom first. Relief washed over me when my voters’ receipt reflected my votes correctly.

It was 10 AM in the morning when I cast my first-ever ballot.

Except for my ballot-feeding difficulties, my entire family had an easy time of it, unlike many other voters. As a first time voter, I was curious at the long lines I saw in other precincts. We were lucky, it turned out.

We left for home soon after, except for my father who is a media worker and had to do his job. As a Kontra Daya volunteer, I later on proceeded to its Quezon City headquarters, excited to be contributing my time verifying reports of election anomalies. Kontra Daya is a poll watchdog that documents and reports poll fraud. I was oriented on what I would be doing, verifying reported anomalies in precincts listed in a Google Sheet I was given. To verify said reports, I would call and ask sources for further details.

My elation at having successfully cast my first ever ballot was again replaced with anxiety when reports of broken vote counting machines (VCM) came flooding in. There were also reports of illegal campaigning and other issues, such as VCMs refusing to print ballot receipts. Hundreds of precincts had to resort to asking voters to sign waivers agreeing to let the poll watchers feed the ballots to replacement VCMS when and if they arrive.

The issue of broken VCMS persisted until nighttime. I was still talking to people who failed to cast their votes even when the precincts have supposedly closed by 7 PM. By then, the unofficial count was already being projected at the headquarters, and the one leading in the presidential race was the son of the dictator.

And my anxiety turned to foreboding. I was scared for myself, for my family, for every Filipino’s future.

As a journalism student I’ve studied in several courses about what Marcos supporters now tout as the “golden era of the Philippines.” I heard from a professor her experiences under Martial Law that prompted me to read up on our recent history. I also met people who survived imprisonment and torture under Marcos Sr.’s regime. With the election results scrolling before my eyes, I felt so bad and devastated for all those who either died or survived the dictatorship.

Nearly a week after the polls, I still cringe whenever I see someone celebrating Marcos Jr.’s impending victory. I cried when my best friend told me how her family ridicules student activists protesting on the streets — I was one of them. My friend’s family also mocks her, a Robredo supporter, telling her to give up because the margin of Marcos’ victory was insurmountable. I cry every time I hear “Rosas”, that aspirational song I sang lustfully with the Pink crowds during the campaign period. It’s now a song that reminds me of what could have been had my candidate won.

I am sad at how the first election I directly participated in turned out. But it’s not over because I am not losing hope. I will oppose the next six year if it turns out to be the same horror story that I heard and read about. I believe there are enough number of Filipinos who will not let it happen again.  I am hopeful that the Filipino youth are discovering their worth and would be the generation that will stand up for truth. They will not let the people be silenced and oppressed again. #

[FIRST PERSON] EDSA, kaarawan at Oishi 2022

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Ni Amy V. Padilla

Ipinanganak ako sa panahon ng Martial Law. Ang diktador na si Ferdinand Marcos, Sr. na ang kinagisnan kong presidente hanggang sa mapatalsik ito ng mamamayang Pilipino noong 1986 Edsa People Power. Isang event at petsa na minemorya lang ang Martial Law. Sa madaling salita, buong formative at elementary years ko ay lansakang mga kasinungalingan na ng ‘golden years’, ‘peace and order’ at maayos na pamumuhay ang tinuro sa paaralan.

Kung dati si Maricel Soriano lang alam kong ka-birthday ko, mula nang 1986 ay lagi nang may tambal na Edsa at komemorasyon.

May mga kalat-kalat akong alaala bilang bata bago mag People Power. Tumatak sa akin ang matinding kagutuman ng mga sacada ng Negros, at dahil ito sa makapangyarihang larawan ng batang malnourished na kalaunan ay namatay. Naririnig ko ang usapan ng mga matatanda sa bahay – mataas na presyo ng langis, bilihin, maraming gutom – na hindi ko pa intindi. Ang naging intindi ko lang ay ganito rin ang sasapitin namin kaya inipon ko ilang natirang barya mula sa baon, pumunta sa sari-sari store at bumili ng mga tsitsiriang Oishi at Kirei prawn crackers para may pagkain kami. Nilagay ko pa ito sa cabinet at sinabi sa Nanay ko. Natawa sya.

Noong 1983 ng pinapatay ng diktador na si Marcos ang dating Senador Benigno Aquino, naiyak ang aking Nanay. Hindi ko unawa bakit.

Bago mapatalsik ang mga Marcos at patapos na ko ng elementarya, ang isa kong Tita naman ay nagpakilala sa akin ng akda ni Renato Constantino na “The Miseducation of the Filipino”. Nagsikap akong unti-unting basahin at unawain sa abot ng makakaya – na napakasalat. Ngunit dito ang simula ng unawa ko ng kolonyalismo at paggamit ng edukasyon para isulong ang interes ng mananakop. [Sa pagtanda na ang unawa sa papel ng ruling elite sa pananatili nito at ng imperyalismong US.]

Noong Edsa 1986, nakisali lang ako sa mga matatanda sa bahay sa pagmonitor ng balita; hindi nagtagumpay makalabas ng bahay ang Nanay ko dahil sa higpit ng lolo ko. Pero ng sumunod na taon, sinama ako ng Nanay ko sa Edsa para gunitain ito. Masaya ang atmosphere.

Kung kaya malaki ang pagpapasalamat ko sa aking Nanay at aking Tita na hindi pulos boladas ng rehimeng US-Marcos ang natanim sa akin bilang bata. Ang mga magulang ko ay kapwa mga kabataang aktibista noong dekada sitenta. Turing kong badge of honor na luwal ako ng mga kabataang mulat at kumilos sa partikular na sirkumstansya nila noon.

Pinatalsik ang mga baseng militar ng US sa huling taon ko high school – marginal lang sya sa akin habang nagkukumahog pumasa sa NCEE (eto pa dati) at college entrance exams. Ngunit sa Catholic high school nasimulang mabuo ang diwa ng paglilingkod sa kapwa, bagaman wala pa sa lente ng makauring pagsusuri.

Sa pagpasok ko ng kolehiyo, unti-unting mas nasistematisa ang unawa sa lipunang Pilipino lalo sa ilalim ng diktadurya – ang pangangayupapa sa US sa neoliberal na mga patakaran (para manatiling bansot, atrasadong agraryo, pre-industrial ang ekonomiya) at mga malalaki nitong base militar, burukrata kapitalismo na crony capitalism ni Marcos, pandarambong, at talamak na human rights violations.

At ano ang partikuar na kalagayan noong 1983 na nag-Oishi panic buying ako? Kasagsagan ng foreign debt borrowing binge ni Marcos na may kaakibat na austerity measures na lalong nagpahirap sa ordinaryong mamamayan. Sa tindi ng pangungutang ng diktador, Pilipinas lang ang tanging bansang bansa sa Asya na kumaharap ng debt crisis.

Sa tuwirang pakikisalamuha at pakikisangkot sa isyung masa mas luminaw ang lagim ng diktadurya –  lalo na ng makilala at makasamang kumilos ang mga biktima nito gaya nila Ka Satur Ocampo, Crispin Beltran at napakarami pang iba.

Hindi hugot sa hangin ang tala ng Amnesty International na mula 1971 hanggang 1981, nasa 72,00 ang nakulong; 34,000 ang tinortyur at 3,240 ang pinatay. Ang mga pangalan ng martir ng Martial Law, kabilang ang nagsulong ng armadong pakikibaka para labanan ang diktaduryang US-Marcos, ay nasa Bantayog ng mga Bayani.

Isang ‘shining moment’ sa ating kasaysayan ang Edsa People Power na nagsilbing inspirasyon sa buong mundo. Akumulasyon ito ng mahabang panahong paglaban ng mga mamamayan sa matinding pahirap ng rehimen, bunsod pangunahin ng napakalalang krisis pangekonomiya.

Subalit hindi nito binago ang pundamental na karakter ng lipunang Pilipino na malakolonyal at malapyudal; ang paghahari at pagsasamantala ng iilan sa mayoryang naghihirap na mamamayan; at ang kontrol ng imperyalismong US. Wala namang ilusyon na sa isang iglap ay maisasakatuparan ang pambansang demokratikong interes at kahilingan ng batayang masa na hindi nababago sa saligan ang moda ng produksyon.

Ngunit maraming aral ang Edsa na mahalaga. Ang sama-samang pagkilos ng mamamayan laban sa tiraniya at diktadurya para sa demokrasya. Ang maninidigan para sa interes ng mga mahirap at api, na ubod ng Kristiyanong panananampalataya na ‘love thy neighbor’ o ‘serve the people’ sa aktibistang turan. Lalo ngayon, ang labanan sa abot ng ating kayanin na huwag manumbalik ang mga Marcos sa Malacanang at manatili ang copycat Duterte sa poder sa pamamagitan ng anak. Ang pabulaanan ang malawakang historical revisionism at distortion na aktibong ginagawa ng mga Marcos.

Sinuka, pinatalsik na ng bayan ang pamilyang Marcos. Nasa kasaysayan maging ng buong mundo ang pandarambong, pagpatay at pagpapasasa sa nakaw na yaman. Hindi na sila dapat manumbalik pa at bagkus, dapat papanagutin sa mga krimen at kasalanan sa mamamayang Pilipino.

Tatlumpung-anim na taon matapos ang Edsa People Power, malayo na inabot ng unawa mula sa petiburges, musmos Oishi panic-buying ng dekada otsenta. Dapat namang may pagkatandaan. Ngunit mas marami pang aral na hahalawin sa praktika at teorya – kabilang ang mula sa mga nakakatandang naghahawan ng landas, gumagabay sa susunod na mga henerasyon. Lalo sa pagdiin ng ating abang mortalidad sa panahon ng pandemya, mahalaga ang legacy na iiwan.

Sa aking sariling salinlahi na lumaking mulat at may pagmamahal sa bayan, at mga nakababatang naging kasama na naimpluwensiyahan kahit papaano sa iba’t-ibang kapasidad at paraan, gaano man kamunti – may assurance na may magpapatuloy ng laban. The kids are alright, ika nga. Maligaya sa pagtanda, still.

Never Again. Never Forget.

No to Another Marcos in Malacanang!

= = = =

Ang may akda ay nagdiwang ng kanyang kaarawan sa EDSA People Power Monument kahapon, Pebrero 25. Hindi alam ng Kodao kung ilang taon na siya.

[EXPLAINER] Who is Doc Naty and why is her arrest unjust?

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She may well be the poster girl of service and selflessness. But the State thinks she is a top criminal deserving of the heavy-handed arrest she was subjected to by the police last Friday.

Dr. Ma. Natividad Marian Castro was arrested commando style in their San Juan City home in the heart of the metropolis, the police disregarding her Constitutionally-guaranteed rights to apprehend who they allege is a top Communist Party of the Philippines leader.

But as her arrest quickly spread on social media, institutions she was associated with described her and her life’s work with nothing but acclaim and immediately condemned what she is being made to endure.

Who is Doc Naty? What made her a target of State heavy-handedness? Why do many people demand her freedom?

Honor student

One of the first institutions that immediately condemned Doc Naty’s arrest was her alma mater St. Scholastica’s College-Manila (SSC-M) where she graduated High School Batch ’84 valedictorian. The community doctor, the school said, was one of the 100 outstanding alumnae who was awarded the St. Scholastica’s Alumnae Foundation Inc. Centennial Award in 2006 because of her outstanding humanitarian work setting up community-based health programs and services in Mindanao.

“She exemplifies the Scholastican and Benedictine spirit, in her life of ora et labora (prayer and work) and service especially to the poor and the marginalized sectors of our society. She embraced the lives of the most impoverished of farmers, fisher folk and indigenous people on the mountains and plains in the Caraga Region of Mindanao. Dr. Naty even brought to Geneva some of the Lumad people to seek help as victims of militarization,” SSC-M said in a statement a day after her arrest.

In their own statement of support, Doc Naty’s fellow Isko/Iska (people’s scholars) said she was outstanding in academics “[i]n UP Diliman where she graduated cum laude in BS Zoology, and onto UP College of Medicine where she graduated with [them] in 1995.”

“Naty is not an ordinary doctor. She is a servant leader actively involved in health and human rights and working towards providing health care for all by serving in rural and geographically isolated areas,” members of the UP College of Medicine (UPCM) Class of 1995 said.

UPCM’s Department of Family and Community Medicine said Doc Naty did nothing but live up to the ideals of a doctor that the country invested in. “Her 26-year career is not of wrongdoing but that of selfless service to the poor and the marginalized,” it said.

Many other health and human rights organizations immediately came out with their acclamation of Doc Naty’s life’s work and condemnation of the brutish manner in which she was arrested, including the Health Action for Human Rights, Karapatan, the Commission on Human Rights (CHR), the Free Legal Assistance Group (FLAG), Gabriela, Pangkalusugang Lingkod Bayan-UP Manila, Community Medicine Development Foundation (COMMED), Community-Based Health Program (CBHP)-Butuan, and even former United Nations Special Rapporteur on Human Rights Defenders Michel Forst who twitted said he was “more than worried” over her arrest. Even senatorial candidates Dr. Minguita Padilla and Dr. Carl Balita condemned the arrest.

SSC-M said it is ridiculous to accuse its alumna of kidnapping and illegal detention of those she is helping and whose human rights she is defending.

“It is unjust that one who has chosen to live in places that are not reached by the services that every human being is entitled to receive; one who has committed her life to give life to others, is now deprived of her right to life, a life that she has lived witnessing to Christ’s love and compassion,” the school said.

In her own words

What was Doc Naty, a top graduate of the country’s top schools, doing in the hinterlands, dispensing health care to people who obviously could not afford to pay for even the most basic of health care?

In her own words, Doc Naty said she had been working as a community doctor, public health practitioner and human rights activist in the Agusan Provinces since she started practicing medicine professionally in 1996.  

“I worked with marginalized sectors in rural and urban communities, mainly with families of farmers, agricultural and mining workers, informal sectors in the urban poor and national minorities, helping peoples’ organizations build their capacity to respond to their immediate and long term health needs within the context of mutual cooperation and empowerment,” she wrote in September 11, 2021, explaining what she does to her batch mates in the UPCM Class of 1995.

She listed the organizations that she worked in all these years, including CBHP-Butuan, COMMED, Karapatan, the Missionary Sisters of Mary, the Religious of the Good Shepherd, SSC-M’s ENFIDE Institute, and even the government’s own Department of Health-Region 10 in its European Union-sponsored Women’s Health and Safe Motherhood Project.

“I started in Agusan at a time when epidemics of cholera and measles were yearly cycles and malaria, schistosomiasis and tuberculosis were so rampant that our health services were vital in remote Lumad and peasant communities or else people died for lack of medical care,” she revealed.

Dr. Ma. Natividad Marian Castro being comforted by her sister when she was surfaced at Bayugan City Jail last Saturday. (Photo from Dr. Darby Santiago’s FB wall.)

Like most other community doctors, Doc Naty was witness to the other injustices their patients suffer. These include the killings of farmers, workers and Lumad for the sake of mining in the region she chose to serve. She described the violence as a widespread displacement of Lumad communities to clear the path for the foreign exploitation of non-renewable resources such as metals and coal, the declaration of large tracts of land with peasant and Lumad communities as special economic zones, rendering the people powerless to assert their right to land, livelihood and resources.

“[T]hese issues have become central to my work in the past 10 years, I find myself working more and more with church people, people in the academe, media, the educated youth and other professionals to explain issues of environment justice and human rights, how the basic sectors of farmers and workers should have a voice in the path to sustainable and just development, how the rights of the Lumad as historical and cultural stewards of their ancestral domain must take precedence over its destruction in the name of development,” she explained.

It was with this conviction that Doc Naty traveled to Geneva, Switzerland in 2016 to plead the case of the Lumad before the international community. This may be one of the reasons why posters were put all over Caraga on November 20, 2020 by suspected state agents alleging Doc Naty and other known human rights defenders of the region are “communist NPAs (New People’s Army).”

But Doc Naty said that all the medical missions she was part of, all the trainings she conducted to tutor thousands of new community health workers from among the peasant and the Lumad, all the workshops she held to produce effective herbal medicines, all the encouragements she dispensed to encourage “walking blood banks”, all the minor surgery and dental extractions she performed, and all the births she assisted, were worth it.  As a result of their work in communities and through cooperation and collaboration with government and non-government programs and projects, disease control programs for malaria, schistosomiasis and tuberculosis have effectively reached the grassroots level while epidemics of cholera and measles have become scarce in the past 10 years.

“I have seen death sown and life being rebuilt. I take comfort in the sure knowledge that the struggle for people’s development will continue as surely as I helped develop leaders and workers with integrity and fire in their hearts for the poor and marginalized,” she wrote.

Doc Naty was aware of how her work is viewed by the government. “In my field of work, the money is scarce, job/personal security is poor (hahaha) but the rewards are immeasurable when I see the babies that I have delivered thrive and become leaders themselves, dedicating their lives to continuing the development work that I helped start in their communities,” she wrote.

It is in the midst of a global pandemic and while Doc Naty was taking care of family members that she was repaid by a contemptuous State in ways it is most accustomed to.

Raid on an ancestral home

Doc Naty’s younger sister Menchi graphically described in a Rappler interview how Friday’s arrest went. Menchi said that she just came from hearing Mass and was opening their gate when plains-clothed men approached, pushed her aside and caused her bruises. They did not identify themselves and forced their way in. Menchi said that other men in civilian clothes scaled their walls. The raiders destroyed their front door and arrested Doc Naty.

Menchi added that it was only when the raiders were already inside the house that they were able to talk to them. They were showed a photocopy of an arrest warrant issued by the Bayugan City Regional Trial Court that contained hundreds of names that did not include Doc Naty’s. The doctor was then whisked away without being allowed to put on shoes.

The FLAG, retained as counsels by Doc Naty’s relatives after the raid, immediately sought access to her at the Intelligence Group, Camp Crame, where she was reportedly brought and detained. Before this, her sister, who was also at Crame, was denied access, as was another lawyer-friend.

“Upon inquiry, police officers from the Intelligence Group informed FLAG that Dr. Castro was no longer at Camp Crame as she was supposedly ‘brought to the airport’ to be ‘delivered to the court’ in Butuan City. Family members proceeded to the airport but were not able to see her there. The scheduled flight to Butuan took off without any confirmation of Dr. Castro being on board. Requests for copies of the warrant of arrest, reports and documents relative to Dr. Castro’s arrests and transportation likewise went unheeded,” FLAG revealed.

Throughout the whole afternoon and continuing to the present, none of her relatives or lawyers has been able to gain access to Doc Naty and no official confirmation from her captors, the PNP, has been made as to her whereabouts,” the group of human rights lawyers narrated.

“Dr. Castro has been denied access to her counsel and to her family, in violation of her rights under the Constitution and the law. She was also denied her medication for her hypertension and diabetes because the police refused to allow her sister who wanted to bring her medicines and test kits to have access to Dr. Castro,” it continued.

Dr. Ma. Natividad Marian Castro at Bayugan City last Saturday. (Photo from Dr. Darby Santiago’s FB page)

On Saturday, Doc Naty was surfaced at the Bayugan City Jail where her family was finally allowed to see and talk to her. The CHR, who was also present, was informed that the doctor would be presented to the public prosecutor’s office when it opens tomorrow, Monday.

As the charges against Doc Naty are non-bailable, chances of her immediately regaining freedom are slim. But her lawyers are sure to question the manner of her arrest as well as her name’s absence in the photocopied arrest warrant shown her family. It will surely take months or years before the community doctor would again be free to dispense health care to the peasant and Lumad communities dear to her. But as in the case of vice principal and ACT Teachers Union secretary general Rosanilla “Lai” Consad in Butuan who was released after less than a year in jail, Doc Naty’s family and friends hope it shall be sooner than later. # (Raymund B. Villanueva)

Tungkong Mangga: From farmers’ paradise to stove of violence

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By Raymund B. Villanueva

A fact-finding mission on the demolition of four farmers’ houses last Wednesday in Barangay Tungkong Mangga, San Jose del Monte City (SJDM), Bulacan was underway at 11 AM yesterday when guards armed with high-powered guns arrived and fired indiscriminately. The firing lasted for 10 minutes and forced the victims and members of the mission to run for their lives. When it finally stopped after what seemed an eternity to the mission participants, two were injured. Several had their bags, wallets, mobile phones and other equipment seized by the guards. The armed men are under the employ of Gregorio Maria “Greggy” Araneta III, husband of the late dictator Ferdinand Marcos’s daughter Irene and brother-in-law to presidential aspirant Marcos Jr.

Friday’s shooting had been the third of a series of harassment against farmers of the community in a year, mission co-organizer Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (KMP) reported. Last year, more cases of harassment were also reported, causing the residents to fear for their lives and livelihood.

READ: Araneta guards fire guns at farmers in SJDM

Where and what is Tungkong Mangga? Why are its farmers being harassed and evicted? Who is Greggy and what is his company Araneta Properties, Inc. (API) doing there? Who rightfully owns the land disputed by poor farmers and a powerful interest that tries to impose its will with guns and threats of death?

Land of sweet bananas

Tungkong Mangga is not a remote and wild place that yesterday’s incident may suggest. It is a community located just north of Quezon and Caloocan cities where Metro Manila’s sprawl is seen atop its rolling hills. It boasts of a huge shopping mall, many restaurants and other establishments, even high-end residential subdivisions developed by the Ayala, Villar, Sta. Lucia and Araneta business groups. Its undulating roads are favorites to weekend bikers who catch their breaths in the area’s many summits, drinking coffee and other refreshments from guerilla cafes put up by enterprising residents. The barangay is called such because of the many mango trees dotting the stove-shaped area.

The view from one of the bikers’ stops near where Friday’s shooting happened. On the background are farms that produce many produce supplied to Metro Manila residents. (R. Villanueva/Kodao)

A large portion of Tungkong Mangga remains agricultural however. From many vantage points, one sees many hectares of farms planted with bananas and other fruit and vegetable crops. It is a major supplier of food to several major markets of Quezon City such as those located in Novaliches and along Commonwealth Avenue. Of particular pride to its farmers is a variety of saba banana that are smaller yet much sweeter than the more common ones we have as turon and banana Qs.

Increasing violence and terror are happening where these farms and the houses of the farmers who till them are located however. The once idyllic place is increasingly ringed by barbed wire fences and guarded by armed personnel of SECURICOR Security and Investigation Services, Inc. While residents freely moved about in the past, they now have to seek permission from the guards for ingress and egress to their communities and farms. They often could not take and sell their produce to the markets anymore.

Terror against food producers

News of Friday’s shooting first reached Kodao through a Facebook Live video of farmer and Alyansa ng Magbubukid ng Bulacan (AMB) member Lea Jordan. She was screaming for help as she was running away from the API guards who shot at them at a clearing where the mission gathered.

LISTEN: Will the UN Decade of Family Farming solve lack of land among poor Filipino farmers?

Lea’s family was from Samar who migrated to SJDM more than three decades back when she was but a child in the early 1990s. In an interview with Kodao last November, Lea said Tungkong Mangga was still forested and known as public land when they arrived. Many families have already settled in the area before them and, like her family, poor and landless from other parts of the country. Over time, more than a hundred families developed about the same number of hectares in the area into productive farms.

Lea was actually on her way to an AMB meeting to have themselves registered with the Department of Agriculture (DA) to be officially recognized by the government as farmers when interviewed by Kodao. She said that, if successful, they will be qualified for support and grants from the DA and it will be helpful for their struggle against the exemption of their land from the government’s agrarian reform program.

On the first month of this year, however, a crying, fleeing and terrorized Lea is what we hear of her first.

WATCH LEA’S FB LIVE VIDEO HERE: https://www.facebook.com/lea.jordan.9/videos/284527883591106/

Farmlands to financial center

Lea and her neighbors’ troubles began when the DAR has exempted their farms from the government’s Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP) in 1997. Government said parts of the area have over 18-degree slopes that supposedly render these “non-viable for agricultural use.” The land’s regular yield of produce, however, proves the reasoning faulty. The farmers of Tungkong Mangga have in fact regularly participated in agricultural fairs in Metro Manila over the years that showcase their organically-raised fruit and vegetables.

Since CARP’s exemption of the productive farms, Greggy had started claiming ownership of the area. There is no online source proving the Araneta clan’s previous ownership of the land it says it owns. They clan were descendants of a Basque family who participated and obviously benefited from Spanish conquest of the archipelago.

The earliest citation available of the family’s presence in the area was the establishment of the Araneta Institute of Agriculture in 1946 that has since transferred to Malabon City and is now known as the De La Salle Araneta University (also formerly known as the Gregorio Araneta University Foundation before its integration into the De La Salle system in 1987). In 2017 newspaper interviews, Greggy claimed that about 2,000 hectares in the area were owned by his grandfather and Malolos Convention participant Gregorio. “Most of the land is owned by my family,” Greggy told the Inquirer, adding that this was where his grandfather used to enjoy horseback riding.

There were stories of a certain Hacienda Araneta near the area but was known to be mainly located in adjacent Rodriguez (Montalban), Rizal. Incidentally, long-time residents of Barangay Mascap in Rodriguez also complain of similar violent eviction tactics by the Aranetas.

With the government approval of the MRT-7 project in 2012 (when Greggy’s cousin Manuel “Mar” Araneta Roxas was transportation and communications and, immediately after, interior and local government secretary) Greggy was reported to have intensified his claims over 140 hectares in the area. The place happens to be where the ongoing MRT-7 rail project shall have its first station and train depot. This is where Greggy said he will build “the best township” beside the La Mesa Dam Reservoir, much bigger and potentially much more lucrative for his clan than their famed Araneta Center in Cubao, Quezon City.

But the Unyon ng mga Manggagawa sa Agrikultura (UMA) pointed out that Greggy’s API was only incorporated as a legal entity, long after many of the farmers have settled and developed the area. The peasant group also accused the DAR of exempting Tungkong Mangga from CARP coverage to accommodate Greggy’s takeover.

“The peasant families of San Jose Del Monte had been tilling the farmlands of Tungkong Mangga even before [API] would be incorporated in 1988,” explained UMA chairperson Antonio Flores. “DAR’s facilitation of Araneta’s landgrab is unconscionable, and nothing short of criminal,” he added.

UMA said that since August last year, Greggy and API have been sending personnel from SECURICOR to threaten and intimidate the residents. Security personnel had even set up control gates along farm-to-market roads in the area to make the passage of agricultural produce difficult. In 2020, a unit of the Philippine Army has even encamped right in the midst of a residential area to intimidate the farmers. A month prior to the latest onset of the latest round of harassment, UMA reported than an API legal representative told residents of Tungkong Mangga’s Sitio Dalandanan to vacate their farms and let Greggy take over the disputed land.

Who should own the land?

UMA said yesterday’s incident was to prevent the fact-finding mission from looking into the ongoing demolition of houses in the area to make way for another private subdivision that would be part of Greggy’s future township. The group opposes the conversion of productive farm lands into more commercial projects.

“It is one thing for a company to grab land from the farmers who have been making it productive for decades,” said Flores. “But to steal land with the intention of converting its use to non-agricultural purposes? This is the height of criminality. On top of displacing peasants, this landgrab curtails the country ability to produce food,” Flores added.

Some of the armed security guards employed by Greggy Araneta who fired their guns and terrorized the participants of yesterday’s fact-finding mission. (UMA photo)

In Kodao’s November interview with Lea, she made clear that they settled and tilled the land in the full belief it was public. She also said that they are willing to pay for the land they now occupy at just prices and friendly schemes. “Dito na kami lumaki. Dito na ako nagka-asawa at nagka-anak. Ito ang aming buhay. Ito ang pinili naming buhay,” she added. (This is where we grew up, married and had children. This is our life. This is the life we choose.)

UMA urges electoral candidates to look into the ongoing violence in Tungkong Mangga and consider it a symptom of the larger problem of peasant landlessness. “Until a program for genuine agrarian reform could be put in place, companies like API would continue to grab land, seize sovereignty over food production away from peasants, and endanger not only peasant lives but the entire country’s food security,” the group said. #