Chapter Eight – Report in Manila

“On to Manila then,” I remarked as we passed the bridge leading to the Halsema Highway to wait for our jeepney. We had decided to take the jeepney from Bontoc to Lagawe so we could cut travelling time. Our friend had advised us to go early so we could take the first jeepney which hopefully connected with the one leaving for Ifugao province. On the bridge we hugged and thanked the young man who had been so kind and helpful to us, before we walked up to the road to wait while enjoying the early morning views. We did not have to wait long and as nothing happened related to our journey into the Cordillera mountain range only the bumpy rides are worth mentioning. Still, from Bugnai to Bontoc was easy. We had a good breakfast with our laughing lady in the market, the jeepney and bus station were nearby, so we were equipped for a long day ahead. The ride to Lagawe was bone-cracking but we came through and on top of that were in luck that, already afternoon, an overnight bus to Manila would leave at seven o’clock sharp, but would stop for everyone on the way we were warned.

The long ride was uneventful but for the people who were on board and who were coming off and off all the time, even up to 2 in the morning.

Finally back in Manila we directly went to the office in Quezon City to share our experiences with Julia and the director of the NGO. On the way over from the bus station we were, again, flabbergasted about the horrendous traffic and the implications it had for people and economy. Before entering the office we talked about our experiences first, something we had done on the bus from Lagawe as we had ample time to review what had transpired. We decided to touch down at that coffee shop near the office where Jerry had started:

“Two things have become quite obvious to me,” Jerry began, “the first thing on how widespread the resistance movement among the tribes is, how convinced and united the people are in their quest from freedom of oppression. The other thing however is that, apart from Balweg and Pedro, it is the lowlander NPA which calls the shots and applies the rules they are familiar with, but is that good for the highlanders?” he asked and wondered.

“Good point,” I agreed, “yes if only the commoners, the poor, the deprived of land, the factory laborers would join the movement in great numbers, I would think the elite, the ones with their private armies, the clique of cronies, would lose control in no time and a new, more based on justice for all society, a democratic society, would be born, one with equal opportunity, one without guns. However, divide and rule has taken flight and hovers above them and infects people who have nothing. The election alone speaks volumes. But, to come back to your point, since lowlanders are more experienced and better equipped and have a common vision, they naturally press that vision on all who are part of the NDF movement.”

“So?” Jerry asked.

“It is understandable perhaps, I did not say it is to be justified,” I reacted defensively.

“In a pure form I have nothing against communism,” Jerry continued, “I have nothing against discipline either if for a good and humane cause, but you tell me where has communism had any success in relation to how actually benefitted the underprivileged, or did it the opposite and formed oligarchies which powers went out of control: China, Burma? What guarantees does this communist movement provide that it actually is defending the deliberately kept poor people of the Philippines?” he asked rhetorically and sighed.

“You think they cannot be trusted?” I asked.

“Look, we know a lot about the Philippines; from the poor of Samar, the made landless in Mindanao, the sugar workers of the Visayas, notably….. to the Indigenous of the island of Palawan and the mountains of the Cordillera, not to mention the workers in the processing zones. So, we also know a lot about the history of the Philippines and how it became to what it is now. This means it is no surprise that the workers, the farmers and all those affected rise against their oppressors, but tell me the leaders of the movement where do they come from?”

“You mean the upper class, the people who studied at the universities of the Philippines, the people who took it up for their fellow men but are part of the elite whose attitude is to oppress for profit, those people?”

“Right,” he smiled, “those people are running the NPA and make the rules our Bontoc and Kalinga peoples are held to abide.”

“And these rules are to be criticized?”

“Don’t you think so?” he asked with irony in his voice.

“If you refer to that rule that husband and wife cannot operate in the same unit, I tend agree,” I said.

“That is precisely one of the things I meant, but perhaps more importantly is threat that the lowland NPA does not take the Indigenous Peoples into account; they seem to think that what is decided by them should be the way, the only way. You know how they talk, you have seen and heard. The Bontoc follow them only because they think the lowlanders stand by them!”

“And this is not so then?”

I am sure it is their intention, but I am not sure that they are doing them for them but for the nation they have in mind. Do they acknowledge the right to self determination, do they acknowledge their ancestral lands. Are they willing to return the stolen lands to them?”

“I am not sure we can talk about this when we are at the office for a debriefing,” I commented.

“ And that alone gives rise to the idea that the NPA, New Peoples Army and the CPP, Communist Party of the Philippines at best stand by the Cordillera peoples and at worst are using them for their end to create a nation on their terms. I think we should study the principles of the CPP Frans,” Jerry suggested as finished our coffee with pan de sal and began to make our way to the office.

We arrived at the office which was near the Magnolia Ice cream factory. The guard of the office building remembered our faces, said hello and mentioned the floor we should go to like we were strangers to him; this apparently was to avoid complications should informers or snitches be active we heard later. Still, the sudden change in the man, from friendly in gestures to distantly was remarkable.

Once in the office we were received amicably and with Julia joining us brought to the room of the director. He smiled and invited us to tell our stories. Taking serious note of what we told him when we had practically finished half an hour later, he first looked at us, sighed then asked:

“Jerry and Frans, you have been with courageous people. I think you agree with me on that, right? These are real people and we are glad you took the opportunity they provided through us so you could experience who the members of the New People’s Army are. You saw their faces here often depicted as faceless; 50 killed here, 100 there and so on. To know what motivates these people was what you were after and from your report I conclude that you found their faces, the faces of real people. But you found more, you found an organization which is not without flaws and so we will duly take note of your observations too. However, bear in mind we are living in a state of war, lives are lost and so discipline must be high all the time. The enemy is ruthless; the AFP thinks nothing of killing its own people. So, your remarks, recommendations, suggestions are welcome, but I must remind you that these come from outsiders, you! And, you come from a different culture, from a more or less democratic society which cannot be compared to our still feudal society. This is our struggle and there are a lot of things for us to learn. As much as we can, under the circumstances permitting or obstructing us we consider your suggestions and recommendations!” he said with fire in his eyes.

“Oh,” I reacted and felt I had been taken off guard. Surely I had not expected this but realized that, most probably, he was right. We were outsiders, we came from a colonizing nation, we did not know poverty as much as a sizable part of the population did and so on. I looked at Jerry who was impressed with the words of the director too, if not more, and felt I had to continue, “oh,” I said again to gain time. This second oh came with a different intonation, more like approving rather than showing surprise, “but of course. I thought you liked to know more about what we experienced, how we felt and yes of course we are outsiders looking in and we are the descendants of colonialists, but it still means that what we saw we indeed saw and that not all we saw was what we liked to see, or what we thought was justified.”

“True, true,” the director now smiled, “I wanted to show you that your perspective is one and that ours here may overlap or it may not!”

“You were testing us?” Jerry now asked.

“In a way,” he smiled a smile which grew bolder to turn into a laugh, “let me tell you,” he continued after the laugh, “it will take time to change things because this rotten colonial system has been engraved in our minds. We are sort of forced to pay respects to those who have greatly profited from the Spanish and are now ruling us!”

“The elite, the landowners, the plantation owners?” Jerry asked.

“You have seen what you have seen and some of those in the NPA and CPP come from there. Now, most of our land once belonged to the Indigenous Peoples like the ones you have visited. Macli-ing Dulag and his men fought for their land, but I can assure you that most in the NPA look down on the Bontoc, Kalinga, the Tinggyan or Ifugao for they consider them backward; in other words not as smart as them.”

“That means that in the end there will be conflict because the natives will not accept that kind of leadership?”

“That could very well be, but for now they have strong leaders like Balweg and so the NPA leaders will not discredit people like him.”

“So, for the time being the Cordillera peoples are at par with the lowlanders, the NPA?” Jerry asked.

“In their efforts to keep the land grabbers at bay they teamed up with the NPA, so they are united. Because they are too different and there is too much more egalitarian I don’t think the highlanders will be able to sustain that relationship for long. You two rightly pointed out that the lowlanders do not take the culture of the highlanders into account. This, I agree with you, could lead to problems!” he concluded.

“Let’s go for a Manila beer in that open air roadside restaurant,” I suggested after his last words.

“You mean it,” he asked looking at me and Jerry.

“Yes, let’s have a beer, why not, time to relax for a while?” Jerry added.

“Okay then,” the relatively young (35) director succumbed with a chuckle, “if it is on you!”

“Agreed,” we answered simultaneously. A quarter of an hour later we sat outside and enjoyed the ice and I mean really ice cold beer, it was frozen solid, while to the delight of the cook our director ordered ‘pulutan’.

“Ah the famous pulutan,” Jerry cried out, “so nice to have a bit to eat while drinking, but not now. Now we cannot!”

“Now we cannot?” our director repeated as a question.

“We cannot drink ice,” Jerry stated prompting our director to jump up for other beers which were delivered in a jiffy. In triumph now our director cried out:

“Now we can have pulutan,” he exclaimed and put 6 Manila beer bottles on the table. So, we toasted, we drank, we ate, we talked, the debriefing over, in a more relaxed form. Julia who had been busy after the debriefing joined us and this time we talked as friends. We knew we would not see each other anymore and so prolonged our get together for a much longer time, for as long as the frozen beers had become drinkable again. Consuming these meant that we were going to say goodbye to Julia and the director and we realized that it was upon us to make it known who were the faces of the New People’s Army In goodbye our director, now a good friend, could not help but tell us more about the nature of this struggle which had cost so many lives:

“You know men, here are the fighters of the NPA and there is the Army. Now, the NPA consists, as you have seen, of the poorest of the poorest, the fighters I mean. They have nothing left to loose. And, there is the Army which consists of the poorest of the poorest too, the only difference being that the Army soldiers get paid a meager salary. These soldiers are the same kind of people as the ones they fight; the rebels are of the same stock. Ironic?” he asked rhetorically as he knew the answer all too well.

End of Volume One