Act Now: Transforming Systems for a Just and Peaceful World
There is a growing consensus at the highest levels that peace cannot be achieved through the firepower of guns, but by addressing the root causes of conflict. Unless the reasons for dissent are acknowledged and resolved, all peace initiatives will remain, at best, temporary reliefs—or at worst, hollow rhetoric.
There can be no real peace while many Mindanawons continue to suffer in poverty. In an island rich in ecological resources—where two-thirds of the nation’s exports originate—there should be no reason for widespread hardship. Yet, the people of Mindanao remain the poorest in the country. All six regions of Mindanao record high poverty gap ratios compared to Luzon and Visayas. According to a study by the United Nations Development Program (UNDP), the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) has the highest poverty incidence at 70%, followed closely by the CARAGA Region at 69%. Amidst such abundance, the reality of deep poverty is an inescapable contradiction.
It must also be emphasized that there can be no peace where there is hunger. Mindanao is often referred to as the “food basket” of the Philippines, and yet it is one of the regions most plagued by hunger. It is heartbreaking to see malnourished children in the shadow of vast agricultural lands filled with high-value crops and fruits—not meant for the tables of local families, but for export, feeding already well-nourished populations in wealthy nations.
Approximately 70% of Mindanao’s most fertile lands have been converted into massive plantations by foreign corporations, generating billions in profit—while displacing Indigenous Peoples and violating their rights. This harsh reality is vividly illustrated in Butong, Quezon, Bukidnon. Here, a powerful corporation, owned and managed by the current mayor of Quezon, has taken over 1,111 hectares of the Manobo-Pulangiyon tribe’s ancestral domain and turned it into plantations. Around one thousand tribal families have been living under tattered tents along the highway for the past eight years, surviving on just one meal a day.
Parents are forced to tie their children at night to keep them from wandering, as five children have already been hit by passing vehicles. Despite the land being legally recognized as ancestral domain—with a certificate issued and signed by the Secretary of the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) and six NCIP administrators—the corporation refuses to honor it.
On April 19, 2022, after receiving the NCIP certificate, the community attempted to enter a nearby vacant 4-hectare area along the highway, pleading “MAAWA PO KAYO, GUTOM NA KAMI” (“Please have mercy, we are starving”). In response, they were fired upon for thirty minutes. I was with them at the time. Bullets rained down on us from the corporation’s private security force, who yelled “LABAS!” before opening fire. Five tribal members—mostly women and children—were wounded. We later discovered that the armed personnel were not even officially registered as a security force, but were simply private armed men hired by the corporation.
To this day, justice has not been served.
Indeed, the enrichment of powerful corporations often comes at the cost of displacement and impoverishment of Indigenous Peoples (IPs). This painful truth is starkly illustrated in Sumilao, Bukidnon, where the Ramcar Corporation, a powerful entity, fenced off 5,000 hectares of ancestral land belonging to the Manobo tribe, led by Bae Merlita Mayantao. The land was converted into a ranch.
In 2016, when the Manobo protested early one morning, the corporation’s security forces opened fire on them. Three tribe members were killed on the spot, including the son of Bae Mayantao, and three others were wounded. To this day, no justice has been served. The same injustice occurred in Valencia, Bukidnon. In 2021, I received reports from Datu Wenifredo Sumael and Datu Alim Saway that a wealthy corporation, accompanied by armed men, had harvested the crops of the IPs without consent. I advised them to take photographs as evidence to present during our scheduled national Zoom meeting with officials the following week. Tragically, the very next day, they were murdered. Upon investigation, I confirmed that the killings were ordered by a powerful political figure acting in collusion with the land-grabbing corporation. Justice remains absent. The pain is even deeper as both slain Datus were close allies in our shared advocacy for social justice and environmental protection.
What is happening now in Amai Manabilang, Lanao del Sur is even more painful. Thousands of Ilocano farmer-settlers, who have long acquired rights over 3,000 hectares of farmland, are being forcibly evicted by no less than the Southern Philippines Development Authority (SPDA), an agency under the Office of the President. The eviction is to make way for two foreign corporations aiming to convert the farmlands into vast plantations.
Already, around 400 hectares of crops have been bulldozed. Those who resist face harassment. Leaders’ homes have been demolished, and their water systems tampered with. Despite these abuses, the Commission on Human Rights and relevant government agencies remain silent. In one dialogue with local officials and representatives of the foreign corporations, a community leader questioned the forced eviction—and was physically assaulted by the mayor’s bodyguards in the presence of police and military officers.
Even worse, in the year 2000, 21 Ilocano residents, including a pregnant woman, were tied up, forced into a mosque, and massacred. Until now, not a single person has been held accountable. This horrific incident is a blatant mockery of the Constitution’s promise that “No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law.”
This kind of grave social injustice and blatant disregard for the rule of law is also happening in Sitio Kibaritan, Malinao, Kalilangan, Bukidnon. The area is being claimed by the Mindanao Army Training Group as part of a military reservation. However, this claim directly contradicts the position of the Local Government and several government agencies, which recognize Sitio Kibaritan as an established community—complete with an elementary school, a chapel, and a day-care center. How, then, can it be considered part of a military reservation?
Despite these official declarations, the military’s claim has been enforced without regard for the community. In 2016, three schoolchildren playing near the school were severely injured by an unexploded ordnance (UXO) planted by the military—without any warning signs. Now, the community has discovered that the sitio is set to be transformed into a hybrid banana plantation. Residents have learned that a contract to that effect has already been signed between military officials and a foreign corporation.
But this disturbing account is just the tip of the iceberg. Even more troubling is the Armed Forces of the Philippines’ (AFP) claim that some 42,000 hectares of land in Bukidnon fall under military reservation. This assertion baffles the Indigenous Peoples (IPs), whose ancestors have lived on and stewarded these lands for hundreds of years as part of their ancestral domain. Community leaders have gone from one government office to another, presenting legal documents and asserting their land rights as guaranteed by the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act (IPRA). Yet their rights continue to be ignored. They are being forcibly evicted, and those who resist are unjustly red-tagged.
Unless these social injustices and contradictions are addressed, true peace will remain out of reach. Unless marginalized communities are meaningfully included in development processes, no amount of development aid will bring real, lasting solutions—it will merely serve as a band-aid. And unless we dismantle a social structure dominated by bureaucratic capitalism—where a powerful few in collusion with political elites accumulate too much, while the majority have far too little—we will continue to suffer from a fragile and negative peace. This peace can shatter at any moment with even the slightest provocation, as seen in tragedies like the Maguindanao Massacre.
It is utterly outrageous that critical issues—along with the sacred effort to reclaim our lost dignity and morality—are being ignored, even trampled upon. Like vultures, politicians feast on the suffering of the poor, who have long been imprisoned by hunger and poverty. If this sacred act of reclaiming dignity and morality is being replaced by diabolical greed, then such a vile betrayal must be met with the power of our voices and the strength of our votes. We must denounce those who perpetuate bureaucratic capitalism.
During the historic “First Quarter Storm” of the 1970s, student activists condemned bureaucratic capitalism as a key mechanism by which oligarchs—colluding with those in power—tightened their economic grip on the people, pushing them deeper into poverty. “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” they said. Though once seen as radical, this warning has proven to be a grim truth in the face of the continuing and massive corruption we see today. The evidence is everywhere.
Are we truly a civilized nation when we permit the gross misuse of public funds while poverty deepens? Can the AYUDA program truly eliminate poverty? It may provide temporary relief, but it also serves as a political tool—a means to control the stomachs of the poor in-order-to control their minds. This is outrageous. Enough is enough. Down with bureaucratic capitalism! True sovereignty resides in the people. All government power must emanate from them—and be used to serve them, not the oligarchs.
As voters, we must ask: What is government for? Is it not meant to serve the people? This echoes the call of nationalist activists from decades ago: “Let not a single drop of rain fall into the sea without first serving the people.” But where are those voices now—those once overflowing with love for country, especially for the poor and oppressed? They were isolated, mocked, imprisoned, and even killed.
Yet their advocacy lives on. It now resonates even in the United States through the Occupy Movement, led by the world-renowned intellectual Dr. Noam Chomsky, with cries such as: “Down with American Imperialism! Stop Bureaucratic Capitalism!” Indeed, bureaucratic capitalism does not aim to serve the people—it serves the rich and powerful oligarchs. In this deeply skewed society, economic power gives birth to political power, leaving the rest of us behind.
To ensure that bureaucratic capitalism does not merely serve the interests of the privileged few—such as cartels, monopolies, and conglomerates—there must be people’s awakening and active participation in all aspects of national life. Without genuine involvement from the people, all government aid, including programs like AYUDA, will remain mere palliatives—temporary reliefs that fail to bring real development or true liberation from poverty.
Rise up, all of you who are imprisoned by hunger and poverty! Let it be made clear: the primary beneficiaries of development must be the Filipino people—not the oligarchs, not the foreign investors. People’s participation is the strongest guarantee of justice, sustainability, and national progress—all for the greater glory of God!
