A nation of communities

Jess Dureza

THE thrust towards nation-building or the concept of “One Nation” is not an idle nor empty one. Prior to colonization, our country was an archipelago of independent states… barangays, as our chroniclers would call it. These barangays were scattered on every island – slowly spreading over seven thousand of them. Each had its own government, set of laws, and economic relations with their fellow barangays or even other foreign states. Chinese merchants traded with the early settlers in the north Luzon, while in the South, interaction between Muslim traders with pre-colonial communities in Sulu and Borneo paved the way for the inevitable entry of Islam.

While these barangays thrived independently from one another, their distinct cultural heritage and economic and political identity also flourished. The concept of a single nation might had entered our ancestors’ minds, but never fully came to the fore. There were federates and sultanates, resembling modern-day United Nations or Asean, but it was only meant for the strategic advancement of the economic and military interests of a particular alliance. In some cases, these were product of marital unions.

Rightly or wrongly, the “one nation” we now call the “Philippines” started out as a tool for subjugating all separate barangays under the common rule of one invader. We could not even name ourselves, instead answering to the name of a faraway monarch, “Philip.” Though it still banked on the pre-colonial barangays as basic political entities, the Spanish invasion decimated whatever peaceful autonomy these entities previously enjoyed and transferred it to a central authority. Is it any wonder, then, that this young nation named after Philipp of Spain still dreams of crafting its own national identity?

Under the one-nation concept, diversity became a double-edged sword in that it hindered the once-free states from uniting against a common enemy. This was proven by several regional rebellions. Even though a national revolution was inevitable, parochial mentality still persisted – proof of which were several independent republics declared separately from the Philippine Republic of Emilio Aguinaldo, such as the Independent Republic of Negros and the Republic of Tagalog in Batangas.

The concept of nationhood, what it means to truly be a Filipino, was thrust upon us. Not for a second will I resent my identity as a Filipino – but I also will not tolerate erasing our diverse heritage and culture. Undoubtedly, we have a triumphant narrative as Filipinos of the Philippines, but we must afford each other the democratic space and freedom to also be Tagalogs, Ilonggos, Bisayas, Tausugs – all the beautiful, separate-but-equal composites of this archipelago.

The way forward is to be honest. And this is our truth: we are a nation of communities. Yes, we are Filipinos – but we are also Ilocanos, Dabawenos, Bikolanos, Cebuanos, Bangsamoro and so forth. When discussing good governance, local culture is often the culprit. When speaking of nation-building, seven thousand one hundred islands of separation are to be blamed. Why don’t we make this diversity work for us instead – in a way that is just and effective?

In search of a political set-up suited for the Philippines, our national hero Jose Rizal, in one of his writings, said that we should adopt a federal republic. He described it as the “freest” government, akin to a boy happily leaving school after class, or a pendulum swinging freely, unbound for a split second, from the laws of gravity. Federal republic, in Rizal’s words, will free us from this mad ambition to be dominant and tyrannical over other regional ethnicities. Better yet, it expands our imagination beyond traditional concepts of governance or public administration towards a set-up that has been indigenized to our own reality.

For decades, we compete with one another in taking the helm of a central power. Our quest for dominance leaves certain groups powerless, dispossessed, and disenfranchised. In our past, we were forcibly subdued to follow the interests of the dominant culture at the expense of several “minority” groups. Yet right here, right now, an imperial government centered only on the Metro can wreak the very same damage on other regions.

This centralized government cannot address the grassroot demands of these minorities. Their traditions and customs were sidelined, in order that the dominant culture alone may bloom. Their ancestral economic potentials were either neglected or exploited based on the caprices of a national economic framework designed by an imperialist central government. The government’s immediate basic services were hardly felt because these are directly controlled by the central authority – due to the country’s archipelagic nature, even relief goods needed to be transferred from one island to another. The question in people’s minds cannot thus be discounted: “how can some communities live so large, while the rest of us have so little?”

The Bangsamoro movement, for instance, initially aspired to create a separate, independent government. Their struggle is deeply rooted in their enforced submission to a nation and culture they were not originally part of, nor identified with. Two Moro fronts led the fight on this Bangsamoro aspiration, the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). Soon thereafter, the paradigm of this Bangsamoro aspiration shifted from secession to self-determination through political autonomy. This is attested by the three signed major agreements between the government and the Moro fronts – the 1976 Tripoli Agreement and 1996 Final Peace Agreement with the MNLF and the 2014 Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro with the MILF.

In Northern Luzon, our Cordillera brethren shared the same ideals with the Bangsamoro. They are pushing for self-determination and an end to the marginalization of the Cordillera people. Leading the fight are their elders in the Cordillera Bodong Administration and the Cordillera People’s Liberation Army (CPLA) that’s now transformed into a socio-economic organization. Initially, they were part of a communist movement seeking to overthrow the government and install significant political, social, and economic reforms. In 1986, Fr. ConradoBalweg led the split with the communist forces and founded CPLA. CPLA in turn, instigated the Cordillera struggle on self-determination and the preservation of their traditional lifeways. Though their bid for self-determination lost twice in referendum, the Cordillera aspiration to lead themselves is still very much alive today.

Our 1987 Philippine Constitution afforded these groups the creation of two autonomous regions – one in Cordillera and another in Muslim Mindanao. The bid for autonomy finally broke into the wall of indifference the dominant culture had built, allowing these minorities to take part in the process of governance. Despite criticism and despite the shortcomings of these autonomous or regional governments, they paved the way for a true discernment and dialogue on federalism, such as the one we have right now. As our friend Steven Rood, the Country Director of The Asia Foundation expressed, “autonomy has been a useful tool to resolve political divisions.” (to be concluded on Monday)

(Jesus Dureza is former chairman of the Philippine Press Institute. He is now presidential peace adviser.)