Reading 4: In Defense of ancestral land. Carino, J., Regpala, M.E. & de Chavez, R. (Eds.). (2010).

Asserting
land rights. Baguio City: Tebteba Foundation

The Cordilleras in northern Philippines is one region in the country which has a strong
indigenous peoples' movement. One key organization that has helped advance indigenous
peoples' rights in the region is the Cordillera People's Alliance, which now federates more than
100 grassroots people's organizations. The alliance was born out of the upland indigenous
peoples' defense of their ancestral lands from intrusive and destructive development projects of
the Marcos regime in the late 1970s and early 1980s.
In the late 1970s, people of the Cordilleras - particularly in Bontoc, Mountain Province
and Kalinga - rose up in arms against a planned series of big dam projects along the Chico
River, the cradle of agriculture in both provinces. The World Bank-funded projects would have
inundated centuries-old rice fields, some residences, rotational farms and burial and sacred
grounds. Some Cordillera leaders who were in the frontlines of defense against these threats to
their homeland lost their lives. One of them was Kalinga chieftain Macliing Dulag, who was
assassinated by Marcos' soldiers on April 24,1980.
Alongside the River Chico conflict, the Tinggians of neighboring Abra province also had
to keep vigil over their forest lands and rivers being threatened by another Marcos project. A
Marcos crony had embarked on a paper mill project, requiring volumes of timber from Tinggian
forests. Chemicals used in milling paper also contaminated river and other water systems. The
Tinggians tried all legal means to stop Cellophil Resources Corporation but to no avail.
The Chico River and the Cellophil debacle prompted indigenous peoples from these
affected areas and neighboring provinces to organize themselves. It was only in organizing
themselves that they could face a military regime.
The protest actions in various parts of the Cordillera interior soon spread to the town
centers and Baguio City. The indigenous peoples of the Cordillera learned the value of
concerted and unified action. The 1980's ferment led to increased coordination among the
growing number of organizations and their experiences contributed in defining the substance
and features of a program for self-determination.
So, in 1984 the Cordillera People's Alliance was established. Indigenous socio-political
systems such as the bodong (peace pact) and pagta (agreement) and the role of elders helped
unify and strengthen the Alliance in devising concerted action. The Alliance's main goal was to
advance a people's movement for the defense of ancestral lands and for self-determination. It
still maintains this goal up to now.
Upon its inception, the Alliance launched some major campaigns. The Chico and
Cellophil issue inspired public educational forums on ancestral land, self-determination and
collective rights of indigenous peoples. Through these forums, the Alliance was able to build
broader unities with other Igorot (the collective term for the various indigenous groups of the
Cordilleras) advocates and other members of society from the academe, church, non-
government organizations, solidarity groups and the media.
Leaders of the Alliance have since articulated that the problems in the Cordillera are not
isolated from wider Philippine and global realities. They also have sought to shatter the"
indigenist" and romanticized view of tribal society as a static society that should be preserved in
its pure form.
After the Marcoses were ousted in 1986, the Cordillera People's Alliance was among
indigenous peoples' organizations that helped lobby for the inclusion of respect and recognition
of indigenous peoples' rights in the 1987 Philippine Constitution. That Constitutional provision
needed an enabling law and that led to the enactment of the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act in
1997.
With Marcos gone and a new Philippine Constitution in place, the Cordillera peoples'
struggle to defend their ancestral land continued. Since the mid-1980s, in the mining town of
Itogon, Benguet, upland folk sought the help of the Cordillera People's Alliance in resisting
open-pit mining operation of Benguet Corporation, a big mining company. The Alliance helped
them in employing various means and forms of defending their lands. It helped them file
petitions to concerned authorities, arrange dialogues and community meetings, and mobilize
them for marches and human barricades.
In the 1990s, particularly during the term of former President Fidel Ramos, the Ibaloi
people of Dalupirip and other adjoining villages in Itogon town in Benguet province also sought
the help of the Alliance. At that time the Ibaloi were protesting against the planned construction
of the giant San Roque Dam along the River Agno in the Itogon-Pangasinan border.
Despite the Ibaloi's resistance, the Ramos government pursued the dam project. But the
Alliance could still count some gains. These included the organization of the people, and, as
Abigail Anongos of the Alliance articulated, "raising their political awareness on the nature of the
State and the need for a wider struggle for national democracy and self-determination."
Today, there are various efforts, including those in government, to pursue autonomy for
the Cordillera, which still remains an administrative region. But the Alliance maintains that "there
can be no genuine regional autonomy when indigenous peoples' rights are violated, and
ancestral lands are treated as a resource base for plunder, exploitation and profit."
With its rich experience in ancestral land defense, the Alliance has been sought by other
indigenous communities to help them devise ways by which to defend and protect their lands
and resources. Just recently, the Tinggians of Baay-Licuan in Abra province sought the help of
the Alliance after a mining company wanted to explore there. To appease and convince the
people to allow its activity, the company had said that it was "just exploring" the area if it had
minerals or not. So the field staff of the Alliance had to alert the Tinggians, warning them that
exploration was actually the first phase of mining operations.

4.1 Macliing Dulag

To the Marcos dictatorship, the indigenous communities of the Cordillera mountain
range in the north of Luzon could easily be dealt with as it proceeded with its plan to build a
huge dam on the Chico River.
But the Kalinga and Bontok peoples knew that the project would flood their ricefields and
their homes, communal forests and sacred burial grounds. It would destroy their lives by
changing their environment forever.
Macliing Dulag was a respected elder of the Butbut tribe in the tiny mountain village of
Bugnay in the 1960s. He was a pangat, one of those listened to by the community because of
their wisdom and courage. He was also the elected barrio captain of Bugnay, serving out three
terms since 1966.
Ordinarily, he tended his ricefields and worked as a laborer on road maintenance
projects (earning P405 a month).
In 1974, the regime tried to implement a 1,000-megawatt hydroelectric power project, to
be funded by the World Bank, along the Chico River. The plan called for the construction of four
dams that would have put many villages under water, covering an area of around 1,400 square
kilometers of rice terraces (payew), orchards, and graveyards. As many as 100,000 people
living along the river, including Macliing’s Bugnay village, would have lost their homes.
Macliing became a strong and articulate figure in this struggle which pitted small nearly
powerless communities in the Cordilleras against the full powers of the martial law regime.
Kalinga and Bontok leaders were offered bribes, harassed by soldiers and government
mercenaries, even imprisoned. But the anti-dam leaders, including Macliing, stayed firm in their
opposition to the project. They argued that development should not be achieved at such
extreme sacrifice.
 “If you destroy life in your search for what you say is the good life, we question it,”
Macliing said. ”Those who need electric lights are not thinking of us who are bound to be
destroyed. Should the need for electric power be a reason for our death?”
Macliing expressed the people’s reverence for the land, affirming their right to stay:
“Such arrogance to say that you own the land, when you are owned by it! How can you own that
which outlives you? Only the people own the land because only the people live forever. To claim
a place is the birthright of everyone. Even the lowly animals have their own place…how much
more when we talk of human beings?”
Resistance to the dam project unified the Cordillera region. Macliing and other Cordillera
leaders initiated a series of tribal pacts (bodong or vochong), which helped cement this unity
and create a very broad alliance of the communities and their supporters. They recognized the
leader of the Butbut as their spokesperson, for although Macliing had had no formal education,
he always found the right words for what they needed to say.
Macliing was murdered by government soldiers on April 24, 1980. They surrounded his
house one night and sprayed it with bullets. His assassination merely solidified opposition to the
dam and won it sympathizers from all over the country and even abroad. Even the World Bank,
which would have funded the dam construction, withdrew from the project, finally forcing the
martial law government to cancel its plans.
Four of Macliing’s killers were charged and in 1983 tried before a military tribunal. An
army lieutenant and a sergeant were subsequently found guilty of murder and frustrated murder.
The lieutenant was later reinstated in the army, rose to become a major, and then himself was
killed in 2000 by the New People’s Army.
(Raluto, R.D. (2015). Poverty and ecology at the crossroads. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University. F 201.77599 R1399). 4.2
THE CONTEMPORARY OPPRESSIONS OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLES IN MINDANAO. The
postcolonial government of the Philippines that uncritically adopts many of the agrarian policies
of the colonizers systematically perpetuates the agrarian oppression of the poor peasants. The
most affected among them are the indigenous peoples (IPs) who are mostly found in Mindanao.
Technically, the IPs include not only the native occupants of the place but
also those who had settled there long before the arrival of the Spanish colonizers in the second
decade of the 17th century. In this sense, the Muslim Filipinos who had been in Mindanao since
pre- Hispanic colonization may also be considered IPs. As a whole, IPs comprise around 14
million of the Philippines' population, of whom 61 percent reside in Mindanao. Since the
colonial period, they and their forebears have suffered various forms of oppression. Let us turn
our narrative to their agrarian and religious struggles.
Land-Grabbing. In the Mindanao context, the non-Islamized and non-Christianized IPs
are commonly called Lumads - a generic term derived from the Cebuano language, which
literally means "native" of the place or one who is "born of the earth." The term suggests an
identity that is intimately connected to the native land. Many tribal communities name
themselves after the river where they reside. They consist of at least 18 local ethnolinguistic
groups that are rightly recognized as original inhabitants of the mainland of Mindanao outside
the Moro provinces. According to Mindanao historian Rudy Rodil, the Lumad "could claim, circa
1900, legitimate control over a vast area of territory now encompassed in 17 out of a total 20
provinces, Sulu and Tawi-Tawi excluded. Today, however, many Lumad communities are
marginalized by the government resettlement policy, which promotes internal colonization of
their ancestral lands and territories.
The dream to reclaim their ancestral domain is at the heart of the Lumad struggle for
self-deterrnination. They struggle to regain the ancestral land where their forefathers grew up,
raised their families, and were buried. Ancestral land, for them, is very sacred because" it is
where the spirits of their ancestors roam." Thus they spontaneously nurture a certain spiritual
relationship with their ancestral land as part of relating with their ancestors. For them, the
ancestral domain does not only refer to the piece of land but also includes the "spirit guides"
that dwell in the trees, rivers, and lands. They consider as sacred all the resources on, above,
and beneath the ancestral lands. As Bukidnon Datu Saway puts it, "the earth is our flesh, the
water is our blood, the trees are our bones, the vines are our veins, the sun is our torch and
sight, the air is our breath and strength, the sound is our language, the cosmic energy and the
spirits are our soul."?" Since their lives are deeply interwoven in the very fabric of their ancestral
domain, the Lumad consider its ecological destruction as outright self-destruction.
On the other hand, the indigenous Muslim Filipinos were also displaced with the coming
of the Christian settlers in Mindanao. Their main agrarian problem started with "the
forcible/illegal annexation of Moroland to the Philippines under the Treaty of Paris in 1898,"
which led to the "imposition of confiscatory land laws."68 They felt that the central Philippine
government, dominated by Christian politicians, was blind and deaf to their grievances for
national recognition, justice, and equality." They perceived that the central government was
unjustly treating them as "socially lower" than Christian Filipinos. “Consequently, many Muslim
provinces are among the poorest in the country" and remain socially neglected, especially in
terms of government development programs.
For some Muslim Filipinos, it is not enough to reclaim a piece of their ancestral domain.
They want the Mindanao-Sulu islands to be separated politically from the Philippine Republic."
This was the case of Datu Udtog Matalam's Mindanao Independence Movement (MIM) in 1968.
For the proponents of this separatist movement, the Muslim struggle for self-determination
would not be possible in a government that systematically promotes integration and assimilation
of the Muslim culture into the national mainstream culture. For them, such an approach would
simply eradicate their Islamic identity and religion. They keenly perceive this as a strategy to
perpetuate the colonial approach to Christianization." As we know, the secessionist movement
did not succeed, largely due to lack of international support among Muslim countries and to the
Philippine government's explicit rejection. Nevertheless, the petition for the Autonomous Region
in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM) was strategically granted, allegedly, to soften the worsening
decades of Mindanao conflicts.
The struggles of the indigenous peoples in Mindanao continue. Until now, many Lumad
and Muslim Filipino communities are still victims of many government-sponsored development
projects that have become instruments of "cultural invasion" and systematic eradication of their
indigenous identity. They feel excluded from government development plans, as they are still
the most affected victims of other people's development projects, such as logging operations,
establishment of ranches, mining concessions, agribusiness plantations, industrial tree
plantations, government reservation areas, and power-generating projects. The IPs unjustly
bear the costs of mass displacement-the price of someone else's "development." They
continue to desperately cry out for justice, as they hold on to a dream that someday their human
rights will be duly recognized and that they will be given the right to fully govern their
communities according to their own customary laws.
Religious Prejudices. As in the past, religious oppression continues to exist today in
the frontiers of the country, especially in Mindanao, where the believers of tribal, Islamic, and
Christian religions coexist. Historically, the present tripeople composition (i.e., Lumad, Muslim,
and Christian) in Mindanao was made possible by the phenomenon of migration owing to the
government resettlement program in the early 20th century. Numerically, the Lumad and Muslim
Filipinos are the minority communities as they comprise only about 20 percent of the total
Mindanao-Sulu population. Accordingly, the IPs are not only the least in terms of demographic
quantity but also the last in matters of development priorities.
The existing conflict in Mindanao has been commonly framed from the perspective of
religious differences between Muslim and Christian communities. Oftentimes, the religious
conflict between Christians and Muslims has been exaggerated at the expense of neglecting
and marginalizing the religious interests of the Lumad. Nevertheless, the perception of religious
conflict between armed Muslim groups and Christian settlers in Mindanao is not without basis. It
can be confirmed by the existence of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), which allegedly
forged a tactical alliance with the NPA-NDF against the government. As Eliseo Mercado has
argued, "The Moro struggle that is, rightly or wrongly, associated with the MILF has a religious
face. The conflict in Southern Mindanao has something to do with religion.” For Mercado, the
religious nature of the Mindanao conflict is evident in the killings and kidnappings of many
Christian personnel, including bishops, nuns, priests, pastors, and foreign missionaries by the
alleged Muslim fundamentalist groups. In fact, the reality of threats and violence against church
workers still continues today. All these would seem to indicate that there is a religious factor in
the Filipino Muslim's struggle in Mindanao.
There is no need to insist that the Muslim struggle for peace is inseparable from the
dream for liberation and a sustainable future. Too much attention has already been given to
insurgency problems to the neglect of the equally important environmental issues that today are
indiscriminately plaguing the people-both rich and poor. It is high time to include the urgent
ecological issues among the top priority agenda for Mindanao!
Reading 5: Protecting the forest: Learning from the Agawa women of Besao, Mt.
Province. Alangui, W.V. & Caguioa, C.C. , in de Chavez, R. (2013). Indigenous peoples, forests & REDD Plus, sustaining
and enhancing forests through traditional resource management. Volume 2. Baguio City: Tebtebba Foundation.
https://www.academia.edu/29454044/Protecting_the_Forest_Learning_from_the_Agawa_Women_of_Besao

Agawa Women’s History of Resistance

The history of the Cordillera people fighting against programs and projects resulting to
environmental degradation would always include the militant participation of women. The Agawa
women have their own stories to tell on how they were able to oppose projects that threatened
their forests and the environment. The first involved an attempt to put up a sawmill operation in
the 1940s, and the other, around 30 years later, revolved around an illegal resin-tapping activity.
The stories below were gathered from the FGDs as well as from the key informants.
The Sawmill Operation and the Agawa Women: Employing a Time-Honored Form
of Protest. Around the 1940s, an American miner named Odon started a sawmill operation in
the forest. The people believed that the operation was just in preparation for a bigger activity,
which they believed was mining. The Agawa people back then did not want any mining
operation in the area, and so they opposed the sawmill operation. The elderly women
drove Odon and his team away by burning his house, and destroying tools and equipment.
Another method of resistance employed by the elderly women saw them exposing their breasts
while chasing Odon and his team with spears and bolos (a long, single-edge machete).
Disrobing is not an uncommon sign of protest among Cordillera women, especially by the
elderly. According to the women respondents, this form of protest is employed to shame those
on the other side who are mostly men (in this case, Odon and his sawmill workers) with the
belief that these men should not dishonor their mothers, wives, sisters and grandmothers. In
fact, the women deserve full respect from their sons and grandsons, and must not go against
their will. The respondents also said that the active involvement of the women in protesting
against the sawmill operation also possibly avoided violence and bloodshed that could have
ensued had the Agawa men been involved.
According to an official from the local government unit (LGU), this story of women
protesting against the sawmill operation by employing the time-honored form of disrobing
is embedded in the memory not of only of the Agawa adults, but also among many adults in the
whole municipality.
Resin-Tapping in Agawa: Women Employ Guerilla Tactics. In the 1970s, the women
noticed that clusters of pine trees in the forest were drying up. The firewood too that they
gathered from the forest were very brittle and had lost the pine scent. They decided to
investigate and found something sinister was being done to the pine trees without the
community’s knowledge: they found plastic bags that were tied around the pine trees. The trees
had incisions in the barks spiraling downward, allowing the sap to pass through to the plastic
bags which collected them—whoever was doing it was harvesting the resin from the pine trees.
Further investigation revealed who were doing the tapping: to their dismay, it involved some
local people from Agawa as well as people from nearby villages. The collected resins were then
sold at PhP50.00 per bag to a middle man from Manila.
Secretly the women formed a team who went into the forest in the dead of night to
remove the plastic bags, which they buried away from the site where the resin-tapping
operations were being done. Because the site was usually unmanned at night, the women
continually did their clandestine operation until all resin-tapping activities stopped. They were
never caught, and they never saw who the tappers were. What was important to them at that
time was to stop the activity since they believed that it was destroying their forest. Later, the
Agawa people heard about the activities of Cellophil Resources Corporation (CRC), a logging
concessionaire, in the nearby municipality of Tubo in Abra province.
 The CRC and its sister company, the Cellulose Processing Corporation (CPC), were
awarded a Timber and Pulpwood License Agreement (TPLA) by then Philippine President
Ferdinand Marcos. The TPLA covered some 99,565 hectares of pine forests in Abra and
Kalinga-Apayao. In addition, Cellophil (both CRC and CPC) had quietly acquired almost
200,000 ha of mostly pine forests in Abra, Kalinga-Apayao, Mountain Province, Ilocos Norte,
and Ilocos Sur. The project affected an estimated 145,000 inhabitants of the area (mostly
indigenous peoples). The mill was to produce the basic material for cellophane to be exported to
Japan and Europe. Both companies were owned by Henry Disini, a known Marcos crony
(Verzola 2008). The Agawa people speculated that the resin-tapping activities in their forest
must have been part of the CRC multi-million project.
Continuing Campaign Against Logging and Mining Operations. Aside from timber
and other forest products, the mountain range where the Agawa village is situated is also rich in
minerals, one of which is a most precious mineral, gold. This is the reason why the area has
always been a target of mining companies for exploration and other mining activities.
The women respondents said that they continue to oppose the entry of big logging and
mining activities in their community. They express their opposition by actively participating in
community meetings, signing petitions against logging and mining operations. Some of them
have joined protest rallies and other mass actions at the regional and national levels against
destructive projects such as logging and mining.
Not surprisingly, the women respondents are aware of the continuing threat of mining in
their community. They said they are watchful of the activities of the Malibato Mining Company,
which started checking their area since June 2011. And while they lament the seeming
indifference of the youth toward their traditional practices, our women respondents continue to
believe that the future generation will not allow the destruction of their environment. Speaking in
Ilocano, one elderly key informant had this say about the threat of mining to her community:
Haan mi ipalubos ti minas wenno uray ania nga proyekto ditoy Besao nga mangdadael ti
daga ken pagpag. Nataengannak ngem ammok nga aniaman nga proyekto nga
makadunor ti aglawlaw lalo ti pagpag ket supiaten ti uubing, lallalo dagiti babbae ti
Agawa. (We will never allow any mining operation or any project in Besao that will destroy
our land and our forest. I am old but I am confident that any project that will destroy the
environment and the forest will surely be opposed by the next generation, especially by
the women of Agawa.

Her story. One of the key informants of this research was Endena Cogasi, a
womanleader who has once been tagged by the military as “Mother Cordillera” and
“Commander.” At a time when Agawa women were pursuing a guerilla-style operation against
the resin-tapping activities in their forests, Philippine society was a social volcano waiting to
explode under the dictatorial rule of former President Ferdinand Marcos. In the remote village of
Agawa, Endena blossomed into a human rights activist during the Martial Law years, and her
house in the village became a ‘halfway place’ for people with different political leanings. Both
the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) and the communist New Peoples’ Army (NPA)
benefitted from her hospitality. But those were dangerous times. Her hospitality was later
misconstrued by the military and she was put under the watchful eyes of the soldiers by setting
up a military checkpoint at the foot of the hill where her house was located. She was eventually
detained by the military for suspicions of being an NPA commander, but released the following
day, not by the good graces of the unit commander, but because of her endless chatter that
continued until sunrise, scolding the soldiers, and irritating them to no end. Her detention gave
her more resolve in actively campaigning for the pull out of the military troops from Besao during
the worst years of military operations in the province (from the 1980s through to the 1990s). She
joined rallies in front of military barracks in Bontoc, the capital of Mt. Province, denouncing
human rights violations and demanding a stop to militarization.
 On 9 December 2010, Endena was awarded the Gawad Tanggol Karapatan (or award
for human rights defenders) by the Cordillera Human Rights Alliance in observance of the
International Human Rights Day in recognition for her “intense passion and unwavering
commitment” in protecting the land, life, and resources of the Igorot since the Martial Law period
(Caguioa, 2010). The award was a fitting tribute to a woman who led the resistance against the
resin-tapping activities in Agawa in the 1970s. This initial involvement in protecting the
environment and the forests of her community eventually grew into an awareness that went
beyond the confines of her village. She was then in her forties. Endena, now 86 years old,
continues to fight for the rights of indigenous peoples.
Women at the Forefront of Forest Protection and Restoration. Recent events in
Agawa saw community women continuing the tradition started by their women elders by actively
participating and contributing in efforts to protect one of their important resources: the forest.
During forest fires, women do not sit idly by. On the contrary, they can be seen actively clearing
areas and perimeters to help stop the spread of fire. This was again evident in 2009 when the
village experienced widespread forest fires. While the men took charge of putting out the fire,
the women were not far behind as they joined the various community fire brigades that were
organized. Recently, the community women were again called upon to help in a reforestation
drive of the municipality, an idea proposed by the Vice Mayor. The men got seeds and
seedlings of native trees and medicinal plants from the pine and mossy forests, and the women
were the ones who planted them around the vicinity of the village. While this project had them
cooperating with the local government unit, another project saw them at odds with the elected
officials who supported a road construction project that would have passed through their rice
paddies and necessitated the diversion of the flow of the river. The women said they were
suspicious of the true intent of the project since the proposed road would lead directly to the foot
of the pine forest. Again, the Agawa women voiced their opposition to this road construction
project, which as of this writing, has not progressed.

Reading 3.1: Women who dare. Bagayaua, G.B. (2004). In Torres, W.M. (2014) Rido: Clan
feuding and conflict management in Mindanao. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University
Press)

“Kati-i ako! Si Babu iyo!” (I am here, your aunty!) These words, spoken by Tarhata Lucman, a
slightly built woman of royal blood, could barely be heard amid the sound of gunfire that morning
in Tugaya, a remote town in the neighboring province of Lanao del Sur.
This was sometime in 1987, and the scene was not a shootout between soldiers and
rebels. It was a fight between young men belonging to two distantly related families, which had
been in conflict with each other for decades. Princess Tarhata, in her 50s and governor of
Lanao del Sur at the time, was herself related to both families.
Bad blood between the two families-known in these parts as rido - started in the ’50s,
the result of rivalry between two suitors over a girl. This turned into a full-scale war when one of
the suitors murdered the other after they attended a local gathering. Their families were soon
locked in a war that lasted three decades and killed many of the town’s promising young
leaders.
Earlier that morning in 1987, another member of one of the families had been killed by
members of the rival family. The victim’s relatives were bent on getting back at his killers. Blood
could have flowed once again had Princess Tarhata not positioned herself physically in between
the warring camps. 
Regarded highly among her people, she managed to calm down the combatants enough
to enable the victim’s killers to seek refuge in her Marawi City home. She then prevailed upon
the other family not to retaliate anymore, stressing that the cycle of violence had to end.
 To this day, Princess Tarhata remains a regal and commanding presence. When
NEWSBREAK interviewed her in September, she was still involved in resolving at least 10
ongoing rido cases in Lanao even if she had long retired from politics.
Why Women? Princess Tarhata is not the only woman here who is known for
intervening in conflicts between families. Paradoxically, in a society where females often take
the backseat, women, particularly those who are regarded highly in the community, are often
called upon to help resolve rido cases. 
In Matanog town, this province, 54-year-old Hadji Sitti Imam is known to have helped
settle at least 10 rido cases. She once settled a case involving the family of her uncle (her
father’s brother) who was killed by her uncle-in-law (her husband’s uncle). 
By tradition, the family of the murdered man would have considered it their duty to
retaliate. It is all part of defending the family’s maratabat, loosely defined as family pride.
To prevent more killings, Imam decided to intervene. 
“I did not want any more trouble because they are neighbors,” she said. She asked her
husband’s family to have the culprit jailed and give the family of the dead man blood money.
After the victim’s family received the blood money, a ritual gathering of the two clans - called
kanduli - was held in Marantao, the village in Matanog where the families live. During the
ceremony, the heads of the two families were made to swear upon the Koran that no further
hostilities would ensue. 
At the moment, Imam is mediating a conflict between her uncle, the former mayor of
Matanog, and the incumbent mayor who is the nephew of her husband. 
As in other aspects of governance and politics here, women are often given the
backseat when it comes to official conflict mediation. But they play crucial roles in settling
conflicts between families because, as locals point out, families here are often matriarchal in
nature.
“On the surface, the men make the decisions. But at home, they always consult their
wives,” says Tarhata Maglangit, head of the Regional Commission on Bangsamoro Women.
Losing Manly Pride. Women are both protected and highly regarded in local Muslim
society, explains Zenaida Tawagon, leader of a nongovernment organization in Marawi City and
herself involved in settling rido cases. A woman’s murder during a rido, she says, commands a
higher price in terms of blood money. Thus, unless the rido started with the murder of a woman,
a man is considered a coward if he retaliates by killing a woman. 
Perhaps for this reason, women are able to penetrate places where nobody would go
because there is an existing rido, says Tawagon. In one case, she recalls, women were sent by
the family of ii man killed during a rido to get his body. 
Aminah Paglas of the Alliance of Concerned Women for Development in Buldon,
Maguindanao, says that women are sent as emissaries in conflict resolution because they are
often more patient and less hotheaded than men. Paglas recalls that her mother had played
peacemaker in conflicts between their own relatives.
What makes women crucial in peacemaking is the concept of maratabat, says Koko
Lucman, a son of Princess Tarhata. “It is an insult for the family of a man if he is the one to
initiate peace talks,” Lucman says. “It’s like losing your manly pride.” It is a lot easier if a woman
initiates the talks, he explains.
Qualifications. Not everybody can play peacemaker, though. One has to be highly
esteemed in society to be able to intervene in a rido, says Maglangit. 
For instance, people in her town listen to Imam because not only is she the daughter of
a datu; she has been selected as the local bai alibi – a rank equal to princess in the Christian
world. Keeping the peace is one of the traditional responsibilities of a bai alabi, says Princess
Tarhata - who has been asked but refused to serve as bai alabi. Her father, the late Senator
Alauya Alonto, was a Maranao sultan. Tawagon, on the other hand, is the wife of a sultan in
Marawi. 
 The mediator must be able to show the parties involved that she is impartial, Imam says.
“She must be fair. Not the sort who betrays.” 
Education, particularly knowledge of the Koran, is also important because Koranic
teachings are often cited by mediators in persuading combatants to reconcile with their rivals,
says Linda Burton, a professor at the Xavier University who is studying rido cases. “Islam is
peace,” explains Princess Tarhata. “This is because our prophet is a trader. You can’t trade if
there is war.” 
Princess Tarhata, whose family owns the Jamaitul Philippine Al Islamiyah - the first
Islamic school in Marawi where both English and Arabic subjects are taught - is considered very
highly educated, Burton says. On the other hand, while Imam may not have been schooled in
the national education system, she is considered highly learned in Islamic teachings. As a
young maiden, her daughter recalls, Imam was champion of a Koran Reading Contest in the
former town of Bugasan (now divided into the towns of Parang, Buldon, Matanog, and Barira).
No Easy Task. Playing the mediator is not for the weak of heart if one fails to handle
matters well, one can invite trouble or unwittingly get caught in the crossfire. Yet these women
dare to break through the barriers between combating parties in order to wage peace. 
It has not been easy. Young men nowadays are much more hotheaded, says Imam.
And, she adds, guns are much easier to acquire now, unlike before when men fought using only
their bolos. Which is why Princess Tarhata, who shares Imam’s views on the matter, is
campaigning for a general disarmament.
To be an effective mediator, one also has to be a person of means because sometimes
the mediator is called upon to chip in for the blood money required to appease an aggrieved
party. 
Tawagon recalls having to spend for the hospitalization of somebody injured in an
automobile accident to prevent hostilities between the family of the injured and the family of the
other party in the accident. She also hosted the kanduli between the two parties at her own
house. Tawagon was a relative of one of the parties in the case. 
Another case that Tawagon resolved involved a land dispute. To settle matters, she had
to buy the property in order to give it to the other family. That family later paid her in installment
but at a much-reduced price. But Tawagon considers it money well spent. “This is how we help
each other.”
Reading 7: Indigenous women's role in resource utilization and management: The
Cordillera experience. Fiagoy, G.L. (1996). In Bennagen, P.L. & Lucas-Fernan, M.L., (1996). Consulting the spirits,
working with nature, sharing with others: Indigenous resource management in the Philippines. Quezon City: Sentro Para sa Ganap
na Pamayanan

Introduction. Indigenous peoples of the Cordillera have been able to conserve and
utilize their resources through sustainable practices. At the base of this is the indigenous
peoples' concept of land: that land and its resources are necessary to the people's survival. As
custodians of the land, indigenous peoples take care of the productive and reproductive power
of the earth and its resources. This harmonious relationship and rational management of the
ecosystem define a people's ethnic identity and also ensure the cultural continuity of the group.
To Indigenous Peoples, land and the environment are valued since these are the sources of
sustenance. The relationship between humans and the environment is also symbiotic and
spiritual. While humans get sustenance from the land, they take the responsibility of caring for it
by extracting only what is needed.
As communities who have resisted colonization and assimilation, indigenous peoples
remain repositories of a broad range of indigenous knowledge which today is recognized as
sustainable and viable. Also the adaptability of these indigenous knowledge systems make
them relevant and useful despite the increasing threats from proponents of profit-oriented
economic growth. Indeed, the influx of the cash economy, state policies that disregard
indigenous peoples' rights and the ensuing development projects have affected the viable way
of life which indigenous peoples have pursued through generations.
Moreover, the relationship between indigenous peoples and the environment is breaking
down as a result of overexploitation of nature's resources as unsustainable practices are
introduced in large-scale economic production. For example, state encouragement of
commercial agriculture brought about massive deforestation and erosion as people converted
forestlands into vegetable gardens. In the same manner, large scale mining operations polluted
the river systems, greatly affecting agricultural lands in the highlands as well as in the lowland
areas.
A major problem confronting indigenous peoples is the state's non-recognition of their
rights to ancestral land. In the Cordillera, 'state laws and policies which require paper titles as
proof of ownership have resulted in the disenfranchisement of the indigenous peoples from their
lands. The laws have also allowed outsiders to own land and exploit the natural resources in
indigenous peoples' territories. Thus, the transfer of control from the indigenous peoples to state
and corporate interests have resulted in irreversible ecological destruction which has severely
undermined the integrity of the indigenous peoples' lives.
In addition, the development framework of the government, which is usually tied to
foreign development policy, calls for massive resource extraction and input-intensive export-
oriented agriculture. This development framework has also helped in destroying not only the
environment but also in undermining tried and tested knowledge and practices. Ecological
degradation and the marginalization of indigenous communities will intensify with the ratification
of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) and the implementation of the Ramos
government's Medium-Term Development Plan.
In subsistence communities, women as producers and carers are wholly dependent
upon the renewability of natural systems to provide food, fuel, water, and shelter. Thus, they
have collected knowledge on the utilization and conservation of these resources. Women are
responsible for survival tasks which are essential for daily life. They grow most of the food crops
and perform most of the work which sustains the family. The task of the women does not end in
the fields. Among the Kankana-ey and Bontok, when they go home in the afternoon, they bring
vegetables from the swidden and a bundle of camote (sweet potato) leaves for the pigs. Then
they feed the domestic animals (e.g., pigs and chickens), cook for the family and look after the
children.
Among the Kalinga, fetching water is traditionally the women's responsibility. In
communities where water is not piped to the village, the women must walk to the spring to wash
the pots to be filled with water for cooking and drinking. They perform this chore in the morning
and evening. Also, in places where traditional rice varieties are used, the women pound palay
(unhusked rice) at least once a day or just before cooking. Since women spend most of their
time in the swiddens and rice paddies, they have gained considerable knowledge about the
rational use of land and resources. This knowledge ensures continuous supply of food and
materials needed for survival. The methods used adapt to the environment and are
sustainable without long-term damage to the land.
The shift to commercial agriculture has eroded the importance of women's role as food
producers and relegated them to a position where they are no longer in control of production.
Many women, especially those who do not have enough land, become part of the labor force in
commercial agriculture. In the vegetable industry, for instance, they not only get exposed to
dangerous pesticides which affect their health, but they are also given lower wages.
In the struggle for survival, the women suffer multiple burdens. Aside from biological
reproduction, they have to ensure that their families have enough food. The women have to
spend so much time in the fields and pregnancy does not deter them from working daily. Among
the Kankana-ey of Besao and Sagada, Mountain Province, women who are about to give
birth bring extra clothes to the fields in case they will deliver before reaching home.
Indigenous women are further marginalized by gender-blind development which fails to
recognize their role in production. Training programs are usually participated in by men because
the call is for heads of families. This prevents the women from contributing their expertise and
knowledge gained from years of working the fields. The non-participation of women in
development programs has undermined ecologically sound indigenous agricultural practices.
As active participants in economic survival, the women also become repositories of
knowledge on sustainable practices. Their exclusion from the economic sphere as a result of
corporate and state development programs has led to the decline of women's role in resource
use and management and in the erosion of indigenous knowledge which the women have
developed through time. Women have become invisible in the western, male-dominated
economic framework which considers cash and profits as measures of productivity.
Statistically, women are not considered active participants in food production and the
economic development of the nation. The problem lies in the fact that only women who
participate in wage labor are counted. Those who engage in subsistence agriculture and other
food production activities which do not entail wages are not recognized.
In recent years, however, development agencies have rectified this error by integrating
the women issue in their programs. However, the danger lies in women's involvement in
projects which train them to become a cheap source of labor or which endanger their health in
activities requiring the use of hazardous chemicals.
In addition, this recognition of and support for women does not guarantee that
development projects will result in social transformation. The interests of the poor women will
not be carried by the elite who usually dominate projects. Moreover, some development projects
require that a beneficiary must have a sizable land area. This immediately disqualifies the
majority in the community who have small or no landholdings at all.
Resource Management Practices. Agriculture is the major industry in the Cordillera
where most of the communities engage in subsistence food production. When the cash
vegetable farming was introduced, some communities, especially in Benguet, completely shifted
to this industry. In the other Cordillera provinces, many areas still have rice paddies and
swiddens although they also engage in cash vegetable gardening.
 Food production in subsistence agriculture directly depends on the environment and the
management of its resources. For instance, among the Kankana-ey of Besao, Mountain
Province, paddy field preparation is mainly the women's task. After loosening the soil with a
wooden hoe, they gather cut grass and leaves of the wild sunflower growing around the
paddies. They spread these in the fields and, with their feet, push these under the loose soil.
In some communities, the women also add to the paddy recycled old thatched roofs as organic
fertilizer.
Another type of organic fertilizer used is the lamud or tadug. Women dig in certain
places in the mountains for this rock-like soil to be pulverized. The powder is then scattered in
the paddy. An analysis of this soil shows that it contains nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium
which further enrich the paddy soil.
Seedbed preparation is also done by women who plant selected seeds in a small plot.
This ensures that the seedlings to be transplanted are of good quality. The women, while caring
for the paddy field through weeding and keeping rodents away, continue to gather food. One
type of weed which they remove from the paddy is the saksakong. It is an edible plant which
serves as food for the family and at the same time is also used as animal feed.
In the past, women used to gather small fish and snails in the paddies. The introduction
of the golden apple snail in the seventies by the government resulted in the disappearance of
many native aquatic food sources. Originally intended as an additional source of protein, the
golden apple snail caused havoc in the fields. It multiplied rapidly, competing with the smaller
native snails, and also led to the decrease in rice harvest since it thrived on the young rice
stalks.
The proliferation of the golden apple snail in the rice fields forced the farmers to use
molluscides, further depleting the native aquatic food sources. In the commercial rice producing
area of Tabuk, Kalinga-Apayao in 1989, the Department of Agriculture recommended that the
farmers use Aquatin to get rid of the snails: The women and draft animals suffered as the strong

chemical corroded the carabaos' hooves and the women's toenails.

In addition to taking care of paddy fields, the women also work in the swiddens (uma).
Though men usually do swidden preparation, regular care is still the women's task. While
waiting for the paddy rice to mature, the women spend time in the swidden, the source of root
crops, beans, and fruits. In the early morning, the women go to the swidden which can be a long

distance from the village. They then plant camote and other cultigens, and remove weeds and
vines to allow the plants to grow. By the late afternoon, they go home to the village, carrying on
their heads baskets of vegetables and fruits harvested from the swiddens.
In some communities, camote plots are located near the house. These are mainly used
as livestock feed while those planted in the swiddens or in the paddies drained after harvest are
for human consumption. Communities with pigsties near the house are supplied with a regular
flow of organic fertilizer. The pigsty, usually a wide hole lined with smooth river stones, is ,a
veritable factory for organic fertilizer. Traditionally, among the Bontok and Kankana-ey, this
serves as a toilet. Dried rice stalks are thrown into the area where pig and human waste are
collected to hasten drying. When the waste matter and rice stalks have mixed well and dried
up, these are collected by the women and used as fertilizer in the adjacent camote plots.
Seed selection is also done by women during the harvest season. The seeds are kept
for the next planting season.
Water is a resource necessary for domestic and agricultural use. Among the Kalinga,
water fetching is taboo for men. Therefore, in communities where water still has to be taken
from the springs or communal pipes, the women are burdened with the said task. In
communities where there are rice paddies, irrigation water is allocated to the paddy owners.
Women and children sometimes sleep in the ricefields to prevent other paddy owners from
diverting the water supply to their fields even when it is not their turn to get the water.
During the American regime, the colonial government established agricultural schools to
ensure that the highlands will be able to produce sufficient temperate vegetables for the
colonizers. Demand for these vegetables increased in the 1960s when the Chinese took over
the industry. Subsistence farmers in Benguet shifted to cash vegetable cropping. Communities
in Mountain Province and lfugao also followed suit. Those in the vegetable industry became
wage-earners but women are paid lower wages than the men although they have the same
workload. While both are subjected to health hazards due to intensive use of chemical inputs,
the women expose not only themselves, but also the children that they bear.
Responses and Political Actions. Early anthropological literature shows the Cordillera
male as the warrior and the female as the food producer. Recent studies show, however, that
the women are also active in territorial defense because, without land, the women will not be
able to perform their task as food producer. Examples would be the opposition of Kalinga
women to the construction of the Chico River Dam and the Bontok women to corporate mining
intrusion into their villages.
Also in the Cordillera, the warrior societies persisted because the women were the major
food producers while the men guarded the villages from marauders. Among the Kalinga, an
inter-village war can be postponed if the women refuse to collect or produce the food needed by
the men during the conflict.
Women recognize that the survival of the community depends on the people's ability to
have control over their resources. Food sufficiency is ensured if these resources are managed
by the people whose indigenous knowledge and socio-political systems lead to equitable
distribution and conservation of the resources.
In traditional Cordillera communities, the women do not have a direct role in the
community decision-making process. The council of elders is composed of male members.
Also, a female peace pact holder has no participation in discussions and decision-making, her
position being hereditary. Only the male members of her family possess an active role.
However, the women have shown that non-inclusion in the formal decision making process
does not deter them from defending land and resources. It follows that those with the most
immediate interest in natural resources should be the ones to control their development and
protection, ensuring that their needs are met in the process.
In the early seventies Benguet Consolidated, Inc. attempted to build tunnels in Mainit,
Bontok. The people knew that this activity would affect the water system which was the lifeline
of the paddies. The Mainit women drove the firm's employees away by baring their breasts and
challenging them. In the local culture, this meant that the women had no respect for the
outsiders whom they could also harm physically.
The resistance to the construction of the Chico River Dam was a resistance to the state's
attempt to disenfranchise the Bontok and Kalinga of their ancestral lands. Not wanting to turn
over their lands and resources to destruction by the state, the women dismantled the tents of
the National Power Corporation (NPC) employees in Tomiangan, Kalinga and brought
these to the NPC office in Tabuk. The attempts of NPC to survey along the Chico River were
thwarted by people patrolling the area. Surveyors were driven away.
During the American colonial regime, the women in Talubin, Bontok stopped the
cadastral survey of their community which would have led to the parcelling and privatization of
ancestral lands, beneficiaries of whom would have been outsiders.
In response to ecological degradation caused by deforestation, the Ngibat women in
Kalinga initiated agri-forestry activities such as planting of fruit trees in woodlots and other
arable areas designated by them. They also helped enforce traditional rules on the gathering of
fuel such as cutting only tree branches.
 These cases show how Cordillera women mobilize themselves to assert their right to
land and resources in order that the community can survive. In the face of ecological
degradation, some women can also group themselves and come up with a plan to reverse the
situation.
External factors like cash economy, development projects and state laws impinging on
indigenous peoples' land rights have gradually eroded traditional resource sharing practices and
also reinforced the concept of private property. This has led to marginalization of the people by
way of disenfranchisement and differential access to resources. However, the persistence of
indigenous practices can still be perceived despite changes brought about by these external
factors which have attempted to transform communities to cash-based activities. The idea that
those who depend on the environment and its resources should control their development
and conservation is a focal point in indigenous ideology. It has been a basis for the defense of
ancestral land. For the women, this is a rallying point of resistance against domination, whether
of gender, class or ethnicity, to enable them to continue their role in production and
reproduction.
Reading 1: Sacred Sites [Prill-Brett, J. (2015). Tradition and transformation: studies on Cordillera indigenous culture.
Mari-it and its Impact on Ecosystem Protection and
UP Baguio: Cordillera Studies Center];
Conservation (Panay Island). Magos, A.P. (1996). In Bennagen, P.L. & Lucas-Fernan, M.L., (1996). Consulting
the spirits, working with nature, sharing with others: Indigenous resource management in the Philippines. Quezon City: Sentro Para
sa Ganap na Pamayanan

Sacred Sites
Bontok villagers view their land as a gift from "the one in the highest" (entutong-cho). To
them land is the source of all life; "it belongs to no one or to everyone." They have reverence for
the land. All of their ancestors who lived and died before them were buried in the soil, where
their bodies merged with the earth and became part of it. They believe that the spirits of the
departed (leng-ag) still remain in the soil. The soil (luta) is invoked during oath-swearing rituals
(sapata) whenever a person is accused of a crime where there are no witnesses and the spirits
of the dead are invoked to witness and punish the wrongdoer.
Specific localities within the village territory are considered sacred. One is the papatayan
("where sacrifices are offered"), a group of pine trees above the village where rice cultivation
rituals are performed on village rest days. The guardian spirits of the village who reside here
communicate a prognosis on village welfare through the butchering of sacrificial animals and the
reading of their bile sacs and gall bladders. Cutting trees or branches from this site is
punishable by fines and supernatural sanction, the latter usually invoked.
Also located above the village is a sacred grove for weather ceremonies (peray).
Whenever storms hit the village with winds strong enough to damage the rice crop, a ceremony
is performed at this site by the village hereditary priest (pumapatay). This ceremony is believed
to stop the strong winds and calm the storm. A third sacred grove is located above the entrance
to the village. This is for the feast of merit and fertility (chuno), provided to the village by upper-
ranking families.
There are other sites with sacred associations such as springs, used in bathing rituals
for births and deaths. Some sections of the river are ritual sites related to head-hunting, while
other sections are fishing sites that belong to corporate groups. A cliff close to the settlement is
believed to be the spirit abode of babies who died in infancy or before they were born. Some
localities are considered the abode of spirits of the upper rank who occupy a different space
from those of the lower rank. The spirits of the dead are believed to occupy a horizontal world
that is neither "underworld" nor "skyworld." People who die of natural causes (old age or illness)
are buried in individual burial places or corporate-owned tombs (par-yung) built on corporate-
owned land within the village. Those who die of violent deaths (e.g., murder, drowning, or falling
accidents) and those who die during childbirth are considered "polluting" and are not buried
within the settlement.
They are buried at the edge of the village facing the direction where they met their death.
Women who die in childbirth are buried below the settlement where drainage passing through
the grave will not pollute house lots or gardens. Shrines related to warfare are situated on the
outskirts of the village territory, each shrine facing a neighboring village or one of the traditional
four directions: upstream, downstream, where the sun rises, and where the sun sets. Ward
(ator) sites, which usually occupy an area 4.5-6 m wide by 6-9 m long, are generally
concentrated at the center of the village. They are considered permanent occupation sites (Prill-
Brett 1975, 1987) that may not be removed-even abandoned ward sites are included in rituals-since
they have acquired sacred rights to the site. A ward site contains a ceremonial open-court
platform and, behind this, a sleeping hut for boys, bachelors, and widowers; this place is taboo
to women. The open space is paved with flat river rocks, has upright backrests polished by
generations of body contact, and serves as a daytime lounging place for men during compulsory
agriculture rest days. The yard surrounding the ward is planted with sweet potatoes for pig feed.
The sweet potatoes are harvested immediately before the ward feasts are held because they
might get trampled during the feast.
There are other sites, such as village entrances and exits that are associated with
community welfare ceremonies (e.g., ceremonies to ward off epidemics, evil, or bad luck).
Scattered in small localities around the settlement are sacred sites where sacrificial food and
drink are offered to ancestor spirits or "unseen guardians" of the village. There are designated
times of the day, from 11 a.m. to noon and from 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., that are believed to be
dangerous when walking on mountain trails. These designated times are during dusk
and the hottest part of the day, times when malevolent spirits that push people over
mountainsides are believed to be roaming around.
Beliefs like these are based on the assumption that for all activities, there is a proper
time and place to be observed and respected in order to be in harmony with the supernatural
beings in the area. This is the Bontok's way of structuring their relationships with the
environment, since they perceive themselves to be sharing the land with these supernatural
beings that hold them responsible for their stewardship of the land.

Mari-it and its Impact on Ecosystem Protection and Conservation (Panay Island).
xxx the key to development is people. It need not be that a country should be very rich
in natural resources in order to progress for we know that there are countries much less
endowed than the Philippines, but they have progressed because of their people – for
people are not only the object for progress; rather, they are the prime movers of
progress. They cause progress to happen when they know how and what to utilize in
their environment. They know how to care for the needs of the generations to come.
And here, we come close to the concept of sustainable development, the most recently
articulated and widely acclaimed social objective defined as “the ability to meet present
needs without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their needs as
well.” xxx
I would like to put forward here the idea that folklore can contribute to sustainbale
development by making use of certain folk beliefs that can help preserve the balance of the
ecosystem. Where many of our laws on fishing and logging are difficult to implement, we can
identify and utilize certain folk beliefs and their associated taboos to help impose laws which are
difficult to enforce, especially those affecting our marine resources. Under article 8, Sec. 161
No. 4-g of the Local Government Code, it states that “the Municipal Planning and Development
Coordinator shall promote citizen participation through development planning at the barangay
level.” One way of encouraging the citizenry to contribute to development is to start where they
are. This way, whether such participation in development is to start where they are. This way,
whether such participation in development is conscious or not, there isa free flow of effort which
need not be a heavy burden to perform in contrast to some of the laws which are difficult to
adhere to because they do not have a cultural base.
xxx sustainable development can be realized through folk participation by knowing their
concept of mari-it (supernaturally dangerous places). xxx the concept of a sacred or spiritual
environment includes an unwritten obligation between mortals and supernaturals, which is
stronger than the written law because it has transcended time. Before a land, pond or water is to
be exploited, certain ritual practices like the bugay (a rite to buy the land from the environmental
spirit beings residing in that place) is performed. xxx
we have also a rite called buruhisan. This is performed yearly to pay taxes to the
environmental spirits. Padul-ong (“to send off”) also is a ritual performed for the spirits of the sea
when the catch has been especially poor. Another is the samba (comes from the Visayan word,
amba – “to sing”) which is held yearly in the sea coast and in the hills as a peace offering to
ancestral and environmental spirits.
 All these rites have to be observed to ensure safety at sea/land, a bountiful harvest, or to
prevent calamities, sickness, and pestilence.
One can view the relationship which formed not only between humans and the spiritual
beings but man with the physical and social environment as something that is bonded with
respect. Since the Makaako owns the earth and everything in it and has apportioned some
areas to be inhabited by the environmental spirits, humans are just a part of it and, therefore,
have no right to do as they please. They just cannot wantonly overfish, cut down trees or
exhaust marine life, because they know the consequence of such an act. xxx
The data on Panay coastal areas as well as those from the interior showed spirit beings
form a part of the people. Specifically, it showed the prevalence of the concept of mari-it which
refers to dangerous places inhabited by spirits. xxx
Since caution, if not fear, is engendered by places believed to be mari-it, people avoid
these places. If one destroys, misuses, or greedily appropriates for oneself the resources in the
mari-it places, it is strongly believed that danger will befall him/her. I suggest, therefore, that we
make use of this folk belief to generate ecological consciousness by including them in songs or
ballads, in slogans, in radio dramas, in films, in comics, in stories for children xxx
If most of our mountains are bald because of indiscriminate logging, if some of our
reforestation efforts fail because people keep on cutting trees, replanting them with trees
believed to be spirit-inhabited (e.g., bubog, akasya, Talisay) could make people think a dozen
times before these are cut.
Laws on fishing, particularly involving the use of dynamite, are difficult to impose but we
can highlight the Filipino concept of gaba (curse caused by the ire of supernatural beings) to
warn fisherfolk and capitalists of an impending disaster in the future when marine resources get
depleted. Harm could also befall their physical bodies and their social prestige could be
tarnished when they get too greedy and exploitative.
Conclusion. Today unregulated fishing, logging, and related activities have led to the
rapid depletion of our natural resources. These activities have affected the physical, the social
and even the spiritual dimensions of traditional life and culture. If the biodiversity in our
immediate environment is destroyed, the cultural diversity is also destroyed. There is a battle
between so-called scientific technologies and those based on beliefs and practices. Folk beliefs
and practices may appear mysteriously unexplainable to many but these have been proven to
be very powerful and effective in combating over-exploitation of our marine and forest
resources. They can be properly identified and utilized.
Since mass media serves as a major and powerful toll to reach out to the greater
populace, we can make use of the same tool to disseminate enduring values inherent in folk
beliefs and practices that can combat the destructive effects of modern fishing, mining, and
logging technologies. We need to be more creative in dealing with people.
Reading 4.1: Notions of justice in the Cordillera Ciencia Jr., A. (2001). In Towards understanding
peoples of the Cordillera: A review of research on history, governance, resources, institutions and living traditions. Volume 1. UP
College Baguio: Cordillera Studies Center. (pp. 121-128) Sc-Cor 959.917 N213 2001

xxx
Similarities in Dispute-Settlement Practices.
The key-informants in the four provincial research sites report that all cases are always
brought first to the barangay captain. This practice is obviously encouraged by the national
government. This does not necessarily mean, however, that all cases are settled by the
barangay captain or at the barangay level. In fact, the barangay captain may refer the matter to
various bodies - the elders, the barangay council, to the courts, etc. Nonetheless, the barangay
captain must always be notified regarding complaints or disputes.
Interestingly, the lupon and the barangay council are separate bodies in the Cordillera.
The elders are often times referred to as the lupon or at least members of it alongside former
barangay captains and officials. Still, in almost all the communities in the four provincial sites,
the lupon and barangay captain handle dispute cases in joint meetings. The barangay officials
however do not always participate in dispute-settlement in the Cordillera.
Significantly, in the provincial sites cited, the lallakay or elders are referred to as the
traditional decision-makers. Decision-making is always collective. In most provincial sites, an
individual elder cannot by himself make decisions in behalf of the whole community. It is only
in Tingguian Abra where it is reported that an elder can make decisions in behalf of the whole
community. It is qualified however that the other elders must be aware of his action.
Apparently, the practice of using go-betweens has become infrequent in the Cordillera
since most settlements take place in face-to-face meetings between disputing parties with the
elders and barangay captain as witnesses. In addition, these encounters are generally non-
confrontational. On the other hand, the assessment of fines as punishment for offenses seems
to have become widespread even as variations exist as to how these are determined and who
receives them.
There is general agreement in the four provincial sites as to how particular types of
offenses are understood. Encroachments on the boundary of the community, injuries involving
outsiders, and the destruction of private property are considered public offenses in the
Cordillera including Ifugao. Theft of small items and offenses resulting from drunkenness are
regarded in all the sites as petty offenses. There are public offenses which are also petty
offenses. Public disturbance resulting from drunkenness is considered as both public and petty
offense. Marital disputes, meanwhile, are considered private matters, thus wife-battery in some
communities is a private offense and is not the concern of the rest of the community.
Almost all the key informants in the four sites say that the individual is the aggrieved
party in cases of injury. Some would add that apart from the individual, property can also be
harmed. When it comes to who has the right to seek redress, almost all informants aver
that, apart from the individual, the family of the aggrieved has this right. It is only in Tingguian
Abra where it is reported that friends of the aggrieved can also seek redress.

Differences in Dispute-Settlement Practices

Communities in Tingguian Abra, Ifugao, Kalinga and Kankana-ey Mountain Province
differ in the way they deal with dual citizenship, ordeals and oaths, fines, vengeance, and
questions regarding choice of law and venue.
As to the sapata and other ordeals, most Tingguian communities practice them while
very few Mountain Province Kankana-eys resort to them. Only some case handlers in Ifugao
and Kalinga resort to the sapata or ordeals when settling disputes. Ironically, while only some
practice the sapata in Kalinga, most people actually believe in it. The reason for this paradox is
simple. The sapata is rarely resorted to because people fear its consequences.
 Fines in Kalinga and Kankana-ey Mountain Province are standard. It cannot be
ascertained, however, if the standard is a traditional one or based on the barangay ordinance.
Nonetheless, in Kalinga the offender pays cash fines which go to the aggrieved. He also
furnishes animals to be butchered for a feast. In Kankana-ey Mountain Province, fines, whether
in cash or in kind, go to the aggrieved. In Tingguian Abra, there is no standard for determining
fines. Fines, whether cash or in kind, are shared by the aggrieved and the elders. In Ifugao,
fines are negotiated by disputants. Still, cash fines go to the aggrieved while animal payments
are butchered for feasts.
Vengeance is generally not allowed in most of the communities in the provincial sites.
Apparently, vengeance does not usually happen in Kankana-ey Mountain Province. Almost half
of the key informants in Kalinga say that vengeance is allowed. The rest say that vengeance is
not allowed but is unpreventable. Vengeance thus happens. Kalinga informants say that
vengeance is done by the family members of the - aggrieved. The Ifugaos say that vengeance
is not allowed but it still occurs and is carried out by family members. In Tingguian Abra,
vengeance is either allowed or is unpreventable in places where it is not allowed. Apart from
family members in Tingguian Abra, friends can avenge the aggrieved. Among the four, the
Tingguians are apparently most traditional with regard to their view on vengeance while the
Mountain Province Kankana-eys are least traditional.
There is greater variation when it comes to the law preferred by disputants when their
cases are being processed. Among the Ifugaos, the disputing parties have a choice with respect
to the type of law to be used in their cases. Among the Kankana-eys of Mountain Province,
most prefer customary law for cases of theft and land dispute and national law for cases of
murder and physical injury. In Kalinga, most prefer customary law for grave cases especially
murder. National law is preferred in all other cases especially the petty ones. In Tingguian Abra,
customary law is preferred for the handling of all cases especially the grave ones while national
law is used for petty offenses. The last observation concerning the Tingguians strengthens
the claim that among the four they are most traditional in terms of their attitudes toward dispute-
settlement.
As to which venue, e.g. barangay council, elders, or a combination of both, is deemed
effective, the Kalingas and the Kankana-eys of Mountain Province say that the combination of
the barangay council and the elders is effective. The Ifugaos say that the barangay council is
effective whether it handles disputes with or without the elders. In contrast, the Tingguians say
that the elders are effective with or without the help of barangay officials. Again it must be
pointed out that in Tingguian Abra, more people prefer customary law in the settling of disputes.

Conclusion
An examination of the ethnographic data and secondary data obtained from the Social
Weather Stations - Cordillera Studies Center Project: "Ethnic Variations in Citizen Attitudes to
Government, Dispute Settlement, and Mechanical Solidarity" suggests that while dispute-
settlement practices in the Cordillera vary from one ethnic group to another, from village to
village, and have evolved through the years, some commonality may be gleaned with regard to
the key elements that constitute "justice." Arguably, the ethnographic information is, to a large
extent, consistent with the survey results. The results of the survey can be explained by the
ethnographic data.
The ethnographic data have shown that offenses are almost always viewed as injuries
directed against a collectivity. The data also show that the individual is not the primary subject of
custom law. A collectivity assumes responsibility for individual actions that are injurious to
others. Kinsmen or village mates aid an offending member fix disputes with other kinship groups
or villages. The kindred or village mates of the offender may also assist in the payment of the
fines. At times, kinsmen or village mates are punished for the wrongs of an offender.
Conversely, the kinship group or the village benefits from indemnities paid to the aggrieved
individual.
This however should not be taken to mean that the individual has no place under custom
law. It has been noted that individuals are allowed to exact personal vengeance or to seek
private settlement with the offender. (Still, in these instances, the kinsmen or village mates are
expected to offer assistance.) While the individual is recognized, he is understood in relation to
the larger collectivity. The reason is basic - without the kinship group or the village, the
individual would not survive. To a large extent, rights and obligations are bestowed on the
individual by virtue of his membership in a kinship group or a village. Rights enjoyed by an
individual are exactly the same rights possessed by kinsmen or village mates.
With regard to the family or kinship group, their importance in Cordillera society is
manifested by the fact that these primarily serve as economic units tasked with providing for the
basic needs of the individual. Apart from being the individual's source of subsistence, the family
and kinship group offer the individual security from rival groups, and are expected to seek
vindication when the individual is harmed or murdered.
As to the exact value injured or threatened by the commission of an offense, the values
of life, property and honor cannot be totally separated from each other. This is most evident in
cases of theft. In most instances, theft cannot be viewed as injurious to the value of property
alone. When the object stolen is essential to the subsistence or well-being of the individual (e.g.
food), apart from property, the value of life is threatened. Moreover, inasmuch as failure to seek
vindication puts into question the honor of the aggrieved person and his kinship group or village,
theft also threatens the value of honor.
Data on the contemporary practices and attitudes of contemporary Cordillera groups
show that offenses are still, in varying degrees, viewed as offenses directed against a
collectivity. This is more apparent in situations where offenses are committed by outsiders. On
the level of the individual, however, the mere fact that family members assist a victim in bringing
a complaint to the authorities and in seeking redress demonstrates that the injury of one is felt
by other family members.
There is growing consensus as to what constitute various types of offenses. A public
offense involves any threat or damage to the security, interests and honor of the community.
The concept of public offense has also appeared in Ifugao. Petty offenses entail the presence
of mitigating circumstances, e.g. first offense, offense by a child, destruction or theft of
insignificant objects, drunkenness, etc. Interestingly, drunkenness is an alleviating condition.
Private offenses, meanwhile, refer to offenses resulting from marital quarrels. Wife-
battery is thus generally regarded as a private matter and not primarily the concern of the
community. A crucial point that must be stressed with the notion of offense is that offenses are
seen as injuring persons and not as transgressing an impersonal law.
Remedies, on the other hand, must be aimed at healing the injuries suffered by the
aggrieved. Since injury is shared by the collectivity, the same collectivity must experience the
healing. The ethnographic data has shown that vengeance was more prevalent in earlier times.
Vengeance then was the principal remedy for injuries suffered, especially when these result in
death. It has been noted nonetheless that even in earlier times, fines were accepted as
substitutes for vengeance especially in less grave cases. The way fines were determined varied
from group to group. The notion of who should be the proper recipient of particular types of fines
also differed.
Data on contemporary Cordillera communities reveal that fines are still collected, and
they usually come in the form of cash and animal payments. Animal payments usually result in
feasts for the whole community while cash payments generally accrue to the aggrieved party.
There is nonetheless a growing tendency in some areas for case handlers, specifically the
barangay captain, to use barangay ordinances in determining fines.
 Whereas offenses are viewed as directed against persons, remedies must essentially
address persons and not technical requirements of an impersonal law. Survey results reveal
that remedies must primarily reconcile disputing persons, or to be more precise, groups of
persons. Remedies must be personal. These are either issued by persons, i.e. a state authority,
or result in appeasing, reconciling or punishing persons or groups of persons. It is therefore
no surprise that no particular law is used exclusively as the legal basis of decisions. In the first
place, it is not the law which is regarded as the aggrieved, thus upholding the law is not the
primary consideration. In addition, remedies to injuries must somehow result in some benefits
for the aggrieved party.
While remedies should initially appease the offended individual, once the community
acts on a complaint, punishment sets in as a major consideration in its settlement. The offender
must be punished and, if possible, reformed and deterred from committing violations in the
future.
It must be reiterated that imprisonment as punishment was not indigenous to the
Cordillera peoples. In fact, in earlier accounts there were instances when imprisonment was
hardly regarded as punishment. Detentions took place but not as punishments per se. The
ethnographic data reveal two types of procedures widely used in the Cordillera for the
settlement of disputes: (1) face-to-face hearings conducted by elders, and (2) mediated
negotiations using go-betweens. The concept of procedure is related to the concept of
authority or handler of a case. In face-to-face hearings, the case handlers were most likely
elders who were recognized by the community as its leaders. Arbitration was generally
employed by the case handlers considering the authority they wielded. In mediated private
negotiations, the case handler is a go-between in the service of disputing parties and bears no
real authority. Mediation is thus the normal method employed. There were of course
combinations of the two basic procedures.
Nonetheless, whether settlements are reached in face-to-face hearings or mediated
private talks, the final decision had to be the result of a consensus and is negotiated. In
mediated negotiations, the decision had to be agreeable to all. If a decision did not prove
acceptable to both disputing parties, the case remained unsettled. In arbitrated hearings, the
final decision must be made by a collective body - the council of elders and/or the community.
The survey and community data reveal that most cases are now handled by the
barangay captain. Moreover, mediated private negotiations have become infrequent.
Apparently, the barangay captain can settle disputes by his lonesome although most barangay
captains prefer to consult elders or to chair hearings attended by elders and other barangay
officials.
Interestingly, the survey data show that a decision given by the barangay captain is
"just." It must be asked however if the barangay is perceived as issuing a decision, an individual
decision, or an individual decision bearing the sanction of the community. Moreover, it must
also be asked if the barangay captain is perceived as a representative of the national
government or a local notable or influential. The survey and the key-informant interviews failed
to capture such information. Given the relative dominant position of the kinship group in the
Cordillera, it would also be important to know whether the incumbent barangay captains are
somehow related to the traditional community leaders. Again, the survey and interviews failed to
obtain this information. As to the use of ordeals in settling disputes, the data show that reliance
on such practices is waning.
On the question of law and notions of justice, as already stated, justice is rarely
understood in terms of the exclusive use of a particular law. As long as reconciliation results
from a settlement and fairness is practiced in the processing of disputes, a decision is
just regardless of the law used.
In sum, offenses in the CordilIera are generally viewed as directed against a coIlectivity.
A collectivity is ultimately the aggrieved party. In the same token, responsibility for individual
offenses are attributed to a coIlectivity. Remedies must somehow heal the injury, and since the
aggrieved is always a coIlectivity, that collectivity must experience the healing. While dispute-
settlement may either be conducted by go-betweens or in face-to-face hearings between
litigants, the necessary consequence of such procedures must be the reconciliation of the
disputing coIlectivities. Given the tradition of vengeful killing in the CordilIera and its ill effects on
society, the resolution of a conflict must be acceptable to the disputants. A collectivity - the
family, kinship group or village, has great interest in the peaceful resolution of a conflict and in
reconciliation since the failure to arrive at reconciliation endangers members of that
collectivity.
Inasmuch as it has been argued that Cordillera culture is representative of pre-colonial
culture in the Philippines, this study affirms the dominant role of a person's identification with a
collectivity like the kinship group in Philippine society. Comparison with the Ilocanos in lowland
Abra shows that the Ilocano's notion of justice is qualitatively not significantly different from
those of the Cordillera groups. This suggests, that despite the acculturation, the importance of
collectivities in social relations has not yet been erased. This also suggests that the
dissatisfaction with the national legal system may in part be attributed to the incompatibility
between a folk culture that is dominated by considerations of kinship and _ other affiliations and
a western-style legal system that treats the individual, and not a collectivity, as the principal
subject of law.
Reading 2: Mangyan’s traditional economy
Gibson, T. (2015). Sacrifice and sharing in the Philippine highlands: Religion and society among the Buid of Mindoro. Quezon City:
Ateneo de Manila University Press

xxx Much of the maize now grown by the Buid is used to purchase rice from the
lowlands, so that they have in fact been able to maintain their rice consumption at or even
above traditional levels.
Rice is eaten largely during the planting season in April, when it forms an obligatory part
of the meal served to agricultural helpers, and in September, after the maize harvest, when
money with which to buy it is abundant. During the rest of the year, the Buid rely on the produce
of their lamay, non-grain swiddens, eating sweet potatoes, yams, taro, maniac and bananas in
roughly equal proportions. Maize is only eaten in its soft, immature form, either roasted or
steamed as a snack, and is not dried and stored as grain except for seed. The Buid regard the
Visayan staple of cracked maize with contempt. There is no question that the Buid are better
nourished than the Christians due to the wider range of dependable food sources at their
disposal.
Once a swidden has reverted to talun, it must be left fallow for a period ranging from
seven to twenty-five years (Conklin 1957, 138). Because grain crops can be planted in a swidden for
only one, or, at most, two years, new swiddens must be cleared continually to replace the old
ones. In general, Philippine integral shifting cultivators prefer to build their houses near their
fields, producing a pattern of dispersed settlement (Conklin 1957,13-15; Schlegel1979, 6; Frake 1980, 86;
Jocano 1968, 37). The Ayufay Buid still maintain houses in their swiddens in addition to the ones
they have built in Ugun Liguma. During the periods of the annual agricultural cycle which require
the most intensive labor, the central settlement becomes almost deserted (cf. Freeman 1970, 164).
While two households may farm adjacent swiddens, most swiddens lie about half a kilometer
apart, or just within calling distance. The population is thus evenly dispersed across the
landscape.
xxx. Not all of this is arable land, some of it being unavailable for ritual or ecological
reasons, making the effective population density some 25 or 30 people per square kilometer.
Under traditional conditions, this would be well under the "carrying capacity" of the locality, but
due to the logging operation xxx and to the destructive methods of the Christian settlers, the
forest cover is rapidly receding. The land immediately adjacent to the settlement of Ugun
Liguma is already suffering from severe erosion.
The Christian migrants who have taken up shifting cultivation in Buid territory tend to
plant only a single cash crop: maize. Because of this, the lands they farm are subject to erosion
which is exacerbated by the insufficient fallow period they allow before recultivating the same
slope. The Christians are well aware of declining returns after two or three years, but because of
their fragile tenure on the land, they hold the view that they ought to get as much out of it as
they can and be prepared to move on when the land is exhausted. Their survival depends
almost completely on the success of their maize crop, which is highly vulnerable to typhoons.
When a series of typhoons struck the area in 1978/79, the Christians were forced to rely on
government relief and emergency aid, while the Buid simply continued eating their root crops
(Lopez 1981, 170).
Land tenure. The Buid subscribe to what may be called a labor theory of property. As
Buid agriculture involves no permanent investment on the land, land in itself was not thought of
in the past as being subject to private ownership. It "belonged" to the spirits of the earth, and so
long as these spirits were not offended, land was freely available to whoever wanted to farm it.
A person owned only what he or she planted, and when the last productive cultigen in a
swidden was harvested, all further claim to the plot lapsed. xxx, among the Buid, swiddens are
owned by individuals, every adult man and woman asserting an independent claim to the
cultigens in clearly differentiated plots.
 xxx In 1986, PAFID obtained new funds from Australian, German and Canadian
Foundations that enabled the organization to greatly expand its operations in Mindoro and
elsewhere in the Philippines. In 1989, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources
(DENR) began discussions with the Sadik Habanan Buhid for a Community Forest Stewardship
Lease Agreement covering 19,600 hectares of land. In the same year, the DENR began work
with the provincial government of Mindoro to initiate a Low- Income Upland Community Project
(LIUCP) funded by $32 million in loans from the Asian Development Bank (ADB) and $8 million
from the Philippine government. The ADB's project guidelines authorized the release of funds
directly to indigenous peoples’ organizations like the SHB instead of channelling them through
the DENR.
In response to this planning process, the Mangyan Mission under Father Dinter, SVD,
convened a meeting in 1990 with 39 Mangyan representatives from all the tribes in which they
agreed to participate in the LIUCP. In 1990, the DENR contracted with a group of six NGOs,
organized as the United NGOs of Mindoro (UNOM), to implement the project. By 1992, PAFID
had helped 7,866 families secure indigenous land claims to 66,525 hectares, mostly through
Community Forest Stewardship Agreements (CSFA) signed with the DENR (Asian Development Bank,
2003).
Problems developed when the DENR was slow to disburse money that they had
promised to the indigenous people for livelihood support and did little to secure their land tenure
(Ocampo 2001; Bryant 2005, 144). Divisions also developed within the NGOs implementing the project.
The NGO based in Bongabong was controlled by activists sympathetic to the National
Democratic Front, which had always opposed the pursuit of indigenous land rights within the
existing political and legal system. They interfered with the land surveys and document
preparation required for applying for a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Claim. Faced with
growing dysfunction within the LIUCP, the Sadik Habanan Buhid organized the collective
withdrawal of the three local NGOs from the LIUCP in December 1993 (Bryant 2005, 144). At the
end of 1993, PAFID helped to set up an umbrella organization, the Kapulungan Para
sa Lupaing Ninuno (KPLN; Assembly for Ancestral Lands), to represent all seven recognized Mangyan
Indigenous Peoples Organizations in Oriental Mindoro.
In early 1993, the DENR established a process for indigenous communities to apply for
Certificates of Ancestral Domain Claims (CADC). By February 1995 PAFID had helped prepare
six applications for CADCs covering 170,000 hectares of land in Mindoro (ibid., 184). On 5 June
1998, the DENR finally issued a CADC to the Buhid that covered 120 communities occupying
over 94,000 hectares of land, the second largest CADC issued in the entire country at that time
(Erni 2008, 330).
Further progress on the Buhid CADC was frozen until 2004, however, by litigation over
the constitutionality of the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act of 1997, by the fall of the Estrada
administration in January 2001, and by a renewed counter-insurgency campaign in Mindoro
conducted by the Arroyo administration beginning in August 2001. In September 2004, the
National Commission on Indigenous People (NCIP) was placed under the Department of Agrarian
Reform (DAR). This created a clear conflict of interest within the same government bureaucracy
and had implications for Buhid land claims. In 2004, the DAR conducted a survey of 1,000
hectares of Buhid land and announced that it would distribute 600 hectares of it to 200 migrant
families from the lowlands. After protests were lodged by the NCIP, the Governor, and the SHB,
the DAR backed off and did not issue the Certificate of Land Ownership Awards (CLOA). But
neither did it resolve the issue of whether these lands belonged within the CADT of the Buhid.
On 24 July 2009, the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) finally
approved a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT) covering 99,133 hectares of Buhid and
Bangon land. But because the claims by lowland migrants living on Buhid lands remain
unresolved, the final CADT has still not been issued. As of this writing, Buhid control of their
ancestral domain is still in doubt.
Reading 3: Ibaloy’s concept of land. Prill-Brett, J. (1992). Ibaloy customary law on land resources. CSC
Working Paper 19. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines College of Baguio; also in Prill-Brett (2015).
SC-Cor 306.0959917 B7566)

During the pre-Spanish and American periods, land was originally used to produce the
needs of the Ibaloy as self-sufficient politically autonomous communities. Except rice fields
which clearly indicated individual ownership, the land tenure rule was usufruct rights. Such
included forestland, pastureland, and the conversion of these into swidden gardens. These were
commonly owned by the communities wherein these resources were found and community had
access to these land resources for subsistence needs. The development of rules in the use of
these lands resulted in the customary law that governed the interaction of community members
in relation to the use of land.
With the introduction of Spanish laws on land management, such as the Spanish Royal
Decree of September 21, 1797, a number of baknang families were able to obtain land grants.
There are some baknang families in Benguet who currently trace their landholdings back to
early Spanish grants. Some of the elders may have received such land grants because of their
loyal service to the Spanish military administration in Benguet xxx.
While the Spanish administration of Benguet began in 1846, there was hardly any
substantial effect of this administration by way of policy implementation in the Cordillera, even in
as late as 1898. In comparison with the Spanish period, the Americans, within a period of 41
years (1900-1941), instituted far-ranging and permanently effective control over the mountain
region, especially in the use and disposition of natural resources xxx. For example, the
Commonwealth Act 141 (Public Land Act), governed the definition, classification, administration,
disposition, and control of the ‘lands of the public domain,’ excluding timber and mineral land
that were governed by special laws. These were Commonwealth Act 137 covering mineral lands
and Sections 1914-1942 of the Revised Administrative Code as the “Forest Code.”
All lands were classified as either alienable or disposable, timber or mineral. Those open
to disposition in turn were classified as agricultural, commercial, industrial, educational-
charitable or reservations for townsites and for public or quasi-public use. Proclamation No. 14,
1922, for instance, ‘reserved’ the Busol forest of La Trinidad, obviously ignoring prior rights of
the indigenous occupants in favour of watershed conservation. This proclamation was followed
by the establishment of communal forests in all municipal districts in implementation of the
American concept of conservation through controlled logging. The assumption was that
domestic timber requirements, i.e. for house construction or fuelwood, were to be logged only in
communal forests subject to existing rules and regulations. xxx.
The beginning of land use and management changes can be traced to the 1900s, where
the attempt to register these lands for titling under the Torrens title concept began to shake the
foundations of Ibaloy indigenous land law.
An introduced non-indigenous practice which played a major role in the cementing of the
local-level political power of the Ibaloy elites was taxation. Although xxx the concept of individual
ownership (e.g. irrigated rice fields, mining tunnels) was not unknown as an indigenous practice,
taxation developed and reinforced a consciousness of individual private property, with its
accompanying rights and responsibilities. Tax declaration of land, Benson surveys, cedulas,
certificates of registration of cattle and horses xxx and other forms of taxation, bewildered the
ordinary Ibaloy citizen.
Initially it was the poorer class which was disenfranchised by the Torrens title, since it
did not recognize the traditional territorial rights of communities and the usufruct rights of the
community members. xxx the introduction of taxation and the individualization of land control
was followed by the commoditization of land. This productive resource was quickly collected in
the hands of a few xxx.
 The introduction of the ‘block titling’ system is currently experiencing the unforeseen
negative result through land dispute, three generations after. The Benson titles or ‘block titling’
system is a mother title comprising various parcels of contiguous land, individually owned but
titled under one name only. These titles were issued during the land survey and titling where
verbal agreement named one individual who represented several people’s properties in one
title. Each property was individually declared for taxation purposes and taxes were individually
collected from each owner and turned over to the representative. disputes have resulted,
especially in the subsequent generations such as the current problem where the descendants of
the original entrusted title-holder are now claiming the whole area to be exclusively theirs.
Another problem faced by the Ibaloy (especially in Baguio) as a result of land registration
and titling, is the problem of encroachment of squatters on the untitled lands. Many land holders
have been helplessly complaining to the government but the law enforcers are also helpless in
preventing this due to local political power.
Another result of state law superimposed on Ibaloy customary law is the law on
expropriation. Ibaloy lands have suffered miserably from this system. The history of
expropriation appears to have begun with the development of the city of Baguio when Ibaloy
families residing in the Kafagway area (center of Baguio), such as the present Plaza/Malcolm
Square area, Abanao, and Session Road were asked by the American administrators to
relocate to the peripheral areas. Only the Cariños and Caranteses remained in the city. The rest
moved out of the Baguio area (such as the Pucays, Tadahas, Molintas, Piraso, Sungduan,
Sepic, Kedit, Camdas, and Binayan, among 25 others). The Baguio Ibaloy residents occupied
areas where their swidden gardens, rice fields and pasture lands were located such as Guisad,
Loakan, Camp 7, Badihoy, Lucban, Aurora Hill, Pacdal, Marcos Highway area in Tuba, Taloy,
and Bakakeng.
The expropriation of other areas followed: some of these were the Camp John Hay area
resulting in the celebrated landmark decision by the US Supreme Court. Cariño vs. Insular
Government xxx. Other expropriation cases include, among others, the Loakan Airport in 1933,
the Philippine Military Academy, Ambuklao and Binga Dam sites, the Baguio Export Processing
Zone, and most recently, the Marcos Park in Taloy. The Ibaloy landowners have not been
properly compensated, and some claim not to have been paid at all. The Ambuklao land owners
for example, have never been properly relocated since the 1950s up to this day.
The introduction of bureaucratic changes such as property registration and land titling
have enfranchised some, but have also disenfranchised many more. Heated verbal battles have
been fought and are still being fought in courts by family members, individuals, and clans due to
many levels of land conflicts.
The intricacy of state land laws, in addition to the prohibitive cost of litigation and
lawyers’ fees, deters many Ibaloys from pursuing legitimate claims. The results are imperfect
claims of land ownership in terms of tax declarations that encourage opportunities for land
grabbing, squatting, and the overlapping of claims. Many fortunes were made by some lawyers
and ‘intermediaries’ such as real estate agents at the expense of Ibaloy landholders. This is
most pronounced in the Baguio City area.